Boxer Mohammed Ali's reputation and super-confident show-boating in the ring used to over-awe opponents before a punch was thrown. And any appearance of Orson Welles seems to have a similar effect on reviewers - a page full of his oeuvre and comparisons therein. I've always taken Orson Welles as I found him without necessarily assuming he is the worlds greatest actor and or director.
Here his acting is not especially good, not for the first time he has difficulty fitting his dramatic girth into a lesser figure, this time the Irishman - or rather Hoirishman - Mike, the well travelled drifter who knew danger when he saw it yet couldn't do a damned thing to stop himself. Yet perhaps Welles was stepping aside as an actor and giving the stage to the others. It is not the plot as such that grips, its the chemistry of the trio. It takes a certain worldliness and imagination to connect great beauty with great danger. It's the things that great beauty can make men do -the jealousy, competition to a murderous degree or to take self-annihilating risks.It is that same elemental male instinct which has animal rivals fight to the death over a female. Welles clearly knows first hand and it shows - Rita Hayworth never smouldered more. Everet Sloane, the crippled rich husband, manages to put such an edge on his term of endearment, "Love-er" for and to his wife as to constantly provoke doubts if he really is the easy cuckold or rather a cynical arch-manipulator. The oddball Grisby with his seemingly insane scheme. There is a constant pervasive discordant edginess perfectly evoked causing alarm bells to constantly ring in the audiences ears.
It's this rather than any standard film criticism judgements which deeply impresses A 7.5
Here his acting is not especially good, not for the first time he has difficulty fitting his dramatic girth into a lesser figure, this time the Irishman - or rather Hoirishman - Mike, the well travelled drifter who knew danger when he saw it yet couldn't do a damned thing to stop himself. Yet perhaps Welles was stepping aside as an actor and giving the stage to the others. It is not the plot as such that grips, its the chemistry of the trio. It takes a certain worldliness and imagination to connect great beauty with great danger. It's the things that great beauty can make men do -the jealousy, competition to a murderous degree or to take self-annihilating risks.It is that same elemental male instinct which has animal rivals fight to the death over a female. Welles clearly knows first hand and it shows - Rita Hayworth never smouldered more. Everet Sloane, the crippled rich husband, manages to put such an edge on his term of endearment, "Love-er" for and to his wife as to constantly provoke doubts if he really is the easy cuckold or rather a cynical arch-manipulator. The oddball Grisby with his seemingly insane scheme. There is a constant pervasive discordant edginess perfectly evoked causing alarm bells to constantly ring in the audiences ears.
It's this rather than any standard film criticism judgements which deeply impresses A 7.5