Review of "Bernard and Doris"

Photo Credit: Ken Regan/HBO

He’s eventually allowed to return when she suffers a stroke, and he cares for her until her death at age 81. Given that it’s the opening scene, it’s not giving anything away to say that the movie quite clearly implies he hastens her passing with a lethal injection of some sort. And it’s also not spoiling anything to spill the beans that Duke left Lafferty in control of the foundation endowed by her vast fortune.

While he did not directly inherit the bulk of her estate himself, Duke’s death did leave him a wealthy man via a yearly salary, something that fueled speculation that Lafferty had manipulated Duke in her final years. Lafferty was also accused of murdering Duke, but the charges were dismissed by the police.

What makes Doris and Bernard worth watching despite the lack of any discernible plot are performances from Fiennes and Sarandon, which demonstrate why each are among the finest actors of their generation.

As the reserved, emotionally stunted Irishman fascinated by Duke, Fiennes’ performance is one of small movements and gestures, his small, shy smile saying all we need to know about his character. As Bernard, Fiennes’ eyes are always searching, as if worried he’s about to be hurt and making sure he is blending in. His voice is soft, so soft it’s sometimes hard to hear what he’s saying. This is not a man who wishes to impose himself on the world.

It’s hard not to compare the part of Bernard to that of another reticent butler, Anthony Hopkins’ performance as James Stevens in The Remains of the Day, another quiet movie, but one with much higher stakes.

Bernard’s sexuality is not explored deeply. He does go out on one date that we don’t see (and we learn he has a thing for mechanics), but it is clear that his heart belongs – at least platonically – to Doris. But under her influence, Bernard starts to dress with more color and Fiennes’ performance also takes on a more fey quality, including limp wrists and eyeliner. There’s even one very odd scene in which he dresses up in Duke’s clothes before serving her dinner. The interesting question, left unstated, is whether he’s doing this to please himself – or her.

Sarandon also shines as the woman who was once known as the richest woman in the world. Most reportedly saw Duke as somewhat arch, brittle and even abusive when it came to her staff (she was sued at least once for assaulting a worker and fired others after sleeping with them) and Sarandon effortlessly captures that brusqueness.

Where Fiennes’ performance is understated, Sarandon perfectly invokes the aura of a woman who has the money and will to make the world bend to her every whim. She also convincingly portrays her growing dependence on and feelings for Bernard. While we never forget Doris is the one with the money, entitlement, and control, Sarandon effortlessly conveys the vulnerability at Doris’ core.