TV REVIEW : ‘Memento Mori’ a Blooming Success

In a bountiful collection of venerable British actors who are mostly octogenarians, “Masterpiece Theatre’s” two-part “Memento Mori” levels a withering attack on ageism in the least-mawkish and most-jocular portrait of dotty old characters you are likely to see together on one screen. (It airs the next two Sundays at 9 p.m. on KCET-TV Channel 28 and KPBS-TV Channel 15, and at 8 p.m. on KVCR-TV Channel 24.)

Directed by veteran British filmmaker Jack Clayton (“Room at the Top”) and adapted from a novel by Muriel Spark (“The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie”), the production is like a big basket of wilting flowers that, defying all rules of nature, bloom like lilies.

Sir Michael Hordern, Cyril Cusack, Thora Hird and Maurice Denham are among the ancient friends, widowers and doddering lovers who are nervously united by a series of mysterious telephone calls. “Memento mori,” the caller intones, which he then politely translates as “Remember, you must die.” The effect on these affluent, eccentric codgers living in London in the 1950s subtly veers their assorted grumblings, ailments, jealousies and peccadilloes into ripe, poignant comedy-drama.

“Masterpiece Theatre,” which last week featured Sir John Gielgud and Dame Wendy Hiller in “The Best of Friends,” seems to be single-handedly reaping a harvest from Britain’s 80-something acting ranks. Most riotous among the old-timers is the harrumphing, jowly Hordern, whose weakness for a flash of thigh or uplifted skirt snares him in the bait dangled by two younger women (Maggie Smith as his arch, conniving housekeeper, and--at 42 the child of the cast--the cheerful, sexy Zoe Wanamaker).

Most affecting is the way the production’s walking-stick comedy is heightened by the characters’ physical limitations. This is boisterously seen in Part 1 during the characters’ hilarious outing for afternoon tea at a police inspector’s house.

There’s bittersweetness, too, in the scenario credited to Clayton, Alan Kelley and Jeannie Simms. The lovely Renee Asherson’s portrayal of a once-famous novelist who knows it’s time to forsake her hearth and withdraw to a comfortable home for the aged is the show’s most glimmering performance. Her ex-housekeeper, on the other hand (Hird), dramatizes the poverty side of old age, encircled by senile cackling in a National Health hospital. But even these scenes are brushed with a gritty warmth.

In fact, the whole experience--refreshingly devoid of sentiment or political correctness--enforces the notion that life just may begin at 80, memento mori or not.