This is likely Katharine Hepburn's greatest screen performance in a career that spanned over six decades. Tackling Eugene O'Neill's morphine-addicted Mary Tyrone must have been daunting at the time, but this 1962 film version of the playwright's autobiographical masterwork is a blazing showcase for not only her formidable talent but her male co-stars as well. Set right after the turn of the last century, it follows a summer day in the life of the Tyrones, as dysfunctional a family as one could possibly imagine. Ex-actor James Tyrone Sr. is the titular head of the family, a miserly alcoholic actor whose sanctimonious attitude has his family unable to cope with their feelings in constructive ways. His wife Mary is a faded beauty defiantly denying both her condition and that of her youngest son Edmund. Edmund has just returned from a few years on the seas but has contracted tuberculosis. Older son Jamie is a failed actor, a wastrel who has become an alcoholic and resentful of his father's stinginess in not being able to send Edmund to a good sanitarium.
The movie is really a series of confrontations and long recollections. As the story progresses, we learn that each of the family members, instead of bonding over Edmund's illness, is gradually retreating into private hellish worlds and that the inability to peacefully cohabitate stems from an inability to move on from events long passed. Even though they are all obviously intelligent people, they refuse to get past their disappointments, and we are left to witness the repercussions of how their choices have affected their relationships and most tragically, how their relationships have informed their choices. What makes spending three hours with this quartet worthwhile is the fact that O'Neill transcends the melodramatic aspects by honing in mercilessly on each one's strengths and frailties. He avoids the talkiness of a stage play by imbuing a sublimely lyrical use of language that captures a profound sense of beauty amid the overwhelming tragedy.
Director Sidney Lumet remains faithful to the text and emphasizes the play's substantial dramatic force by focusing very specifically on the four actors. Hepburn's head-shaking was beginning around this time, and it actually feeds effectively into the character's constant sense of loss and paranoia. She has several great moments, such as Mary's giggly remembrance of her first encounter with James and the demented stupor she displays near the end as she carries her old wedding dress around. A somewhat rigid Ralph Richardson plays James Sr. with appropriate stentorian fervor, though honestly I would have liked to have seen either Fredric March, who originated the role on Broadway, or ironically Spencer Tracy play this role, especially as the play deals heavily with Irish Catholic guilt. Jason Robards has been so inextricably connected with O'Neill in the intervening years that it is no surprise to see him superbly interpret the role of Jamie with alternate flashes of fury and poignancy. As Edmund, Dean Stockwell is a revelation as the O'Neill doppelganger, the emotional core of the play who takes the family's one positive step of forgiving his father and brother for their faults in the climax. Additional credit needs to be given to cinematographer Boris Kaufman whose fluid work here makes the camera an integral part of the experience by lending depth and range to the scenes that could not have been captured onstage. True, it can be an emotionally draining film for the uninitiated, but it is more importantly, a powerful realization of one of the undisputed classics of the American stage.
The movie is really a series of confrontations and long recollections. As the story progresses, we learn that each of the family members, instead of bonding over Edmund's illness, is gradually retreating into private hellish worlds and that the inability to peacefully cohabitate stems from an inability to move on from events long passed. Even though they are all obviously intelligent people, they refuse to get past their disappointments, and we are left to witness the repercussions of how their choices have affected their relationships and most tragically, how their relationships have informed their choices. What makes spending three hours with this quartet worthwhile is the fact that O'Neill transcends the melodramatic aspects by honing in mercilessly on each one's strengths and frailties. He avoids the talkiness of a stage play by imbuing a sublimely lyrical use of language that captures a profound sense of beauty amid the overwhelming tragedy.
Director Sidney Lumet remains faithful to the text and emphasizes the play's substantial dramatic force by focusing very specifically on the four actors. Hepburn's head-shaking was beginning around this time, and it actually feeds effectively into the character's constant sense of loss and paranoia. She has several great moments, such as Mary's giggly remembrance of her first encounter with James and the demented stupor she displays near the end as she carries her old wedding dress around. A somewhat rigid Ralph Richardson plays James Sr. with appropriate stentorian fervor, though honestly I would have liked to have seen either Fredric March, who originated the role on Broadway, or ironically Spencer Tracy play this role, especially as the play deals heavily with Irish Catholic guilt. Jason Robards has been so inextricably connected with O'Neill in the intervening years that it is no surprise to see him superbly interpret the role of Jamie with alternate flashes of fury and poignancy. As Edmund, Dean Stockwell is a revelation as the O'Neill doppelganger, the emotional core of the play who takes the family's one positive step of forgiving his father and brother for their faults in the climax. Additional credit needs to be given to cinematographer Boris Kaufman whose fluid work here makes the camera an integral part of the experience by lending depth and range to the scenes that could not have been captured onstage. True, it can be an emotionally draining film for the uninitiated, but it is more importantly, a powerful realization of one of the undisputed classics of the American stage.