I don't think this movie has stood the test of time. The sound track was rough, the music mellow dramatic and the scenes too composed. Maggie Smith gave a very dramatic performance but generally the acting appeared dated. I had difficulty in engaging with most of the characters and found the movie only came into its own for the last half hour.
The story feels a bit creaky—a teacher in 1930s Edinburgh who thinks she’s shaping the future while mostly meddling in the lives of her pupils. Maggie Smith stops it from sinking, and it’s obvious why she won the Oscar. Without her, the film would be hard to endure.
Her Jean Brodie is witty, bossy, and unsettling, striding about the classroom in her self-declared “prime” while openly admiring Mussolini. The performace is charismatic enough that you almost get swept along, until the reality of her politics lands with a thud. The rest of the cast orbit around her like satellites, but Smith keeps the screen alive.
The film itself struggles with weightier agents, treating politics and sex in a stiff, stagey way. Still, Smith’s presence is magnetic. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie may stumble as cinema, but as a showcase for one of the greatest screen performances, it’s unforgettable.
This loose adaptation of Muriel Spark's novel- via a stage production- is a satisfying brush with quality. There is an intelligent, witty script, evocative use of Edinburgh locations, a persuasive impression of the 1930s and its fashions, with a large, excellent cast, all stunningly photographed in sumptuous colour.
The film is primarily a vehicle for Maggie Smith's spectacular, charismatic performance in the title role, for which she won the Oscar. And the fascinating character of Miss Jean Brodie dominates the story; a naive schoolteacher in a private school who instills in the girls her own approval of the growing fascism movement in Europe.
And like Mussolini she appeals through emotion and personality rather than truth and egalitarianism. She satisfies her own needs before the wellbeing of her class. Which ultimately leads to tragedy. She is destroyed by one of her most precocious girls, formidably played by Pamela Franklin, who with chilling inevitability assumes the attributes of her mentor.
Robert Stephens is convincing as Jean Brodie's bohemian lover, a mediocre artist and teacher whose elitist sense of entitlement is as prodigious as hers. The awareness of where this authoritarianism is heading makes this an unsettling experience. While there is a compelling study of a misguided woman portrayed by a great actor, it is also a warning from history.