Reviews

This movie is like a painting by an old master that hangs in a museum--we may not be moved by it, but we can still appreciate the artistry. Its most notable feature is the director, King Vidor, master of silent film making. As you might expect, many of the important scenes have little or no dialog. In one scene between Lionel Barrymore and Lillian Gish, he rambles on about their life together, while she strains to get out of her sickbed and crosses slowly to him, the entire distance transfigured by the depth of her love for him. Gish was a great star of silent film, with a wonderful, expressive face, full of compassion and grace. In another scene that happens under quite different circumstances, Jennifer Jones crawls to Gregory Peck, the man she loves, also without words, evincing great sorrow and quiet dignity. In both cases, the women prove they are far more noble than the men who love them so badly. Jones also has a mobile face, together with a beautiful, resonant voice. No film that has these two ladies at its center should be missed. In addition, the film has two marvelous scenes that, at the time of its making, would have been just as impressive as some of today's special effects wonders: In the first, about 20 armed horsemen face a crowd of railway workers, including some chinese, clothed in authentic period dress, with a steam engine in the background. As the tensions mount, a troop of mounted cavalry, about 100 strong, ride onto the set, filmed on location (judging by the saguarros and ocatillos) in Arizona. This was a tour de force of filmmaking at a time when shooting on location was rare. In the second scene, a train under a full head of steam jumps the tracks and plows down an embankment. Filmed in early technicolor, this movie has lush exteriors and panoramas of rich desert color. Two more character actors should be mentioned, both of whom steal every scene they enter: Butterfly McQueen, the maid whose comments are both simple and profound, and Walter Huston, as the crusty sheriff who doubles as a preacher during a funeral.

I agree with the conclusions of tedg, and I find this particularly distressful, since it means there will be no more sequels in Patricia Highsmith's "Mr. Ripley" series. The events are all there, but the original novel is a thriller, not high art, and no amount of arty pans, pregnant pauses, and actor's tricks can transform it. Highsmith's idea (and a great one) was to narrate a crime from the point of view of the criminal. So the reader feels the tension of being on the run, being one step ahead of the police, and making flimsy excuses that people swallow. In the movie, that is all gone. The scenes of narrow escapes play out as uncomfortable social moments--you know, when you don't want your girlfriend to meet your ex. But the protagonist in the book suffers these moments in sheer terror of discovery. The movie suffers from miscasting and bad editing. Jude Law, whose character is supposed to be charming and likeable, is a swine. Matt Damon, whose character is supposed to be sociopathic, is a really nice guy, albeit one who makes mistakes. The scenes drag when they should race. The director confuses Highsmith with Thomas Mann, as if he intended to film Death in Venice and found himself on the wrong set. A movie justifiably overlooked by Oscar, with the exception of Jude Law, who is great, as usual.

I don't know what movie the others were watching, by this one really bugged me. Of course, I was watching it on TV, so the experience was a little different, but I found myself wondering when it was going to end. The dialog was alternately pretentious and trite. In his wonderful Disk World series of novels, Terry Pratchett has Death speak IN ALL CAPS, LIKE THIS. The script of this movie sounds as if it were written in all caps, with long pauses so we can all absorb its IMPORTANCE. Also, the adulation the author gives to the tycoon played by Anthony Hopkins irritated me. I've never met a CEO who everyone liked, although they probably pretended they did. Most of them are dreadful beasts. This is "It's a Wonderful Life" for the upper crust. Of course, it's a wonderful life, you dummy, you're rich! The choice of music in the final party sequence, which seemed to run in real time, was hokey in the extreme, though I guess most of the audience wouldn't recognize "Our Love is Here to Stay", "Top Hat, White Tie, and Tails", or even (this one is really abused) "It's a Wonderful World", all used to comment on the cheesy dialog.

This was apparently the pilot for a tv series that never got made. With all the nonsense and repetition on American tv, it's hard to see why, except that most people who are interested in early tv are not in the target demographic (under 30). The 40s fashions and makeup are great (it looks like the Mask) and the characters are attractive and interesting. The best vignettes refer to the early days of live tv, when you couldn't show cleavage and black musicians were forbidden to talk to the audience. Not great, but entertaining.