RICHARD BURTON gets to tear the scenery to pieces as DOCTOR FAUSTUS, directing himself into a frenzy of stylized theatrical acting as though he didn't know the camera would magnify his every over-sized movement.
Fortunately, ELIZABETH TAYLOR is only allowed to parade her beauteous face before the close-up cameras without uttering a word. Only toward the end does she have to shriek like a mad woman as Faustus loses his soul to hell.
But Burton's histrionics are on display and I doubt whether Charles Laughton or Peter Ustinov ever indulged in such extravagant overacting. His performance is a spectacle in itself.
And unfortunately, the other cast members are almost mute by comparison, none of them exhibiting anything more than amateurish acting.
The sometimes imaginative staging is pretty to look at, but none of it manages to stir up more than a modicum of interest. It's all done up in garish Technicolor with sets that look as though the low budget was put to efficient use.
Summing up: In my humble opinion, a weird sort of bomb, totally lacking any sort of entertainment value.
Fortunately, ELIZABETH TAYLOR is only allowed to parade her beauteous face before the close-up cameras without uttering a word. Only toward the end does she have to shriek like a mad woman as Faustus loses his soul to hell.
But Burton's histrionics are on display and I doubt whether Charles Laughton or Peter Ustinov ever indulged in such extravagant overacting. His performance is a spectacle in itself.
And unfortunately, the other cast members are almost mute by comparison, none of them exhibiting anything more than amateurish acting.
The sometimes imaginative staging is pretty to look at, but none of it manages to stir up more than a modicum of interest. It's all done up in garish Technicolor with sets that look as though the low budget was put to efficient use.
Summing up: In my humble opinion, a weird sort of bomb, totally lacking any sort of entertainment value.