(Credits: Far Out / Warner Bros.)
Mon 11 August 2025 21:15, UK
When I was little, I was obsessed with the 1990s adaptation of The Secret Garden, despite the fact that I’d never read the book. I would watch it regularly, wishing to explore a secret world of my own.
Whenever I visited my grandparents’ house, I treated their garden as though it held these elusive secrets, admiring the rockery where fairy ornaments were nestled among flowers and a bird bath. Every corner of that garden, which was home to apple and plum trees, hidden ornaments, and tucked away benches, had the potential to transport me to Mary Lennox’s world.
As a teenager, I found the film to be a comfort watch if I was ever in need of some childhood nostalgia, but there came a time when I forgot just how much I loved the tale. Fast forward eight years, and I found myself spending a week at home in my childhood bedroom, where an unread copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden, first published in 1911, sat on my bookshelf. I’d never been able to put it up in the attic. I knew I would eventually get to the children’s classic one day.
Taking some time away from the routine of normal life following a break-up, I decided to pick up the book, with its yellow-stained pages, and soon I’d devoured the charming story. The Secret Garden advocates for finding the magic in the everyday, as reflected by the robin who guides Mary into the decaying old garden, which she transforms into a place of life and vitality.
She discovers her secret cousin, Colin, who has been kept away all his life, supposedly afflicted with illness, and with his daily trips to the garden with Mary, he soon comes to realise that you can’t hide away from life. It’s a beautiful sentiment full of happiness and friendship, and reading it came at the perfect time for me.
Thus, I thought it only right to revisit the movie, directed by Agnieszka Holland, and see if it was as magical as I’d remembered. With a beautiful score by Zbigniew Preisner, the film taps into the curiosities of childhood, that yearning to unravel mysteries and see everything as a work of sorcery, which is something all of us should try to carry within ourselves.
Set against a backdrop of the Yorkshire countryside, the film basks in gorgeous pastoral landscapes and the beauty of a grand house, which, when Mary’s mind is particularly active, takes on a gothic atmosphere. The scenes in the garden are the greatest, of course, with the children admiring the natural splendour of flowers and trees, animals and sunshine.
As Mary befriends Colin, her cousin, and Dickon, a neighbour, the time they spend in the garden allows them all to emerge from their shells. Mary softens from her cold and callous temper, and Colin vows to no longer be the shut-away, sickly child he has been conditioned to be. As sentimental as the film might sound, it brings the innate meaning of life to the screen; finding magic in the everyday and keeping a hopeful and grateful mindset might sound cliché, but Hodgson-Burnett’s story is a firm reminder of how easily we can get bogged down with negative emotions. Even a dead garden can grow again.
Executively produced by Francis Ford Coppola, The Secret Garden does have a certain Hollywood-ness to it that I wouldn’t usually indulge in, but when the performances are so good (Kate Maberly is the perfect Mary) and the images are so beautiful, you can’t really complain. The movie strikes the ideal balance of being as heartwarming and full of wisdom for kids as it is for adults. In fact, if you’re ever feeling a bit low or a bit lost, The Secret Garden might be the cinematic cure you need.
Related Topics
Comments are closed.