MAYERLING

Doomed lovers: Boyer and Darrieux

MAYERLING      (1936). Director: Anatole Litvak. French-language version with sub-titles.

Rudolph (Charles Boyer), the Crown Prince of Austria, is trapped in a loveless arranged marriage, disagrees with his father's politics and edicts, and spends most of his time carousing and womanizing. Until he espies the pretty young Marie Vetsera (Danielle Darrieux) and the two fall in love. Rudolph tries to have his marriage to the archduchess Stephanie (Yolande Laffon) annulled, but neither the Pope nor his father will allow this. The Emperor finally tells his son that this affair must end within 24 hours. The lovers spend one last fateful night together.

the real Prince Rudolph in younger days

Mayerling was a French film that turned Boyer into an international star. (I believe a dubbed version was also released). At 37 Boyer was a few years too old to play Rudolph (who was around 30), but it doesn't really matter. Boyer and Darrieux both give excellent performances in the less naturalistic style of the 1930's. The supporting cast consists of unfamiliar but well-chosen and effective French actors; I especially enjoyed Andre Dubosc as the prince's elderly and loving valet. 

Based on a novel, Mayerling -- named for the prince's retreat where the final rendezvous takes place -- is a fictionalized version of the story. There were at least three subsequent versions: The Secret of Mayerling, a French film that delves into the now-discredited theory that the lovers were murdered; a 1957 version with Audrey Hepburn and husband Mel Ferrer; and the 1968 version with Omar Sharif, which includes another lover of the prince's, an actress/possible prostitute that he apparently also tried to impress into a death pact. I have a feeling the real facts about our prince are much more interesting, and perhaps even less savory, than what happens in this movie. 

Boyer

In real life, Rudolph's marriage to Stephanie began happily enough, but frankly, Rudy was a bit of a dog; he even gave his wife a venereal disease! In the film Rudolph not only cheats on his wife but utterly humiliates her by asking Marie to dance with him instead of her at a royal ball. The couple's rather callous treatment of the wife is kind of glossed over, although the very young Marie does have the sensitivity to say of some gossiping old biddies, "It isn't easy getting old." Mayerling boasts a very arresting and interesting score by Arthur Honegger. Boyer and Darrieux reteamed 17 years later for The Earrings of Madame De.  

Verdict: If taken with a grain of salt, this is an impressive and well-made romantic picture. ***. 

ANASTASIA

Helen Hayes, Yul Brynner, Ingrid Bergman

ANASTASIA (1956). Director: Anatole Litvak. Screenplay by Arthur Laurents.

In Europe in the 1920's rumors are circulating that Anastasia (Ingrid Bergman), the youngest daughter of the Tsar Nicholas, may have survived the purge that killed the rest of her family. General Bounine (Yul Brynner) finds a woman, fresh out of mental hospitals and contemplating suicide, whom he thinks resembles Anastasia, and guides her -- like Henry Higgins -- to act more like royalty. But as she is about to meet the Dowager Empress (Helen Hayes) and seal her fate, she wonders if she could really be who everyone says she is. Anastasia is a wonderful, absorbing film that is not true to historical facts but to their spirit, and works beautifully as a kind of fairy tale. Bergman deservedly won a Best Actress Oscar for this, and she is matched in excellence by a powerful Hayes, and a rather sexy and dynamic Brynner. There is also fine work from Martita Hunt [Becket] as the Empress' peppery lady-in-waiting [to whom the Empress says "to a woman of your age, sex should mean nothing but gender"]; Ivan Desny as her nephew, Paul; Akim Tamiroff [The Vulture] as Boris Chernov, one of the co-conspirators in this matter of the "phony" Anastasia; and Natalie Schafer [The Other Love] as one of the group of Russian exiles who embraces Anastasia as their own; among others. The ending is contrived but effective, and the movie still manages to maintain an air of ambiguity. In real life, the Empress completely rejected "Anastasia's" claim, and the woman lived her life as Ana Anderson, protesting all along that she was the real daughter of the Tsar. Decades later, DNA proved conclusively that Anderson was lying. Filmed in stunning DeLuxe color and with a nice score by Alfred Newman.

Verdict: A true classic with superb performances. ****.

THE SNAKE PIT

Olivia De Havilland as the troubled Virginia

THE SNAKE PIT (1948). Director: Anatole Litvak.

Virginia (Olivia de Havilland) is a troubled woman who has been committed to a psychiatric institution. Dr. Kik (Leo Genn) interviews her confused but loving husband, Robert (Mark Stevens), and tries to figure out what is responsible for Virginia's fragile mental state. Flashbacks show her life with Robert, as well as the earlier years before she met him. It's all rather psychologically dubious, but the film is generally well-acted and entertaining. Fellow patients in the institution, some of whom are crazier than others, include Beulah Bondi as a haughty old lady with delusions, Betsy Blair as the delicate Hester, as well as Lee Patrick, Celia Lovsky, Barbara Pepper, Minerva Urecal, Marie Blake (Blossom Rock), and others, most of whom just have bits. Mary Treen, Glenn Langan, and Ann Doran are on the staff; Helen Craig gives a terribly unsubtle performance as the evil Nurse Davis. Natalie Schafer is cast as Virginia's mother and Lora Lee Michel plays her as a child; both are quite good. While The Snake Pit is an uncertain mixture of sentiment and silly moments, and is a bit on the exploitative side, it does have some undeniably effective scenes, such as the poignant climax when Laura (Jan Clayton, who was Julie Jordan in the original Broadway production of Carousel) sings "Going Home" at the dance. Alfred Newman's score and Leo Tover's cinematography are also assets. Arthur Laurents, among others, worked on the screenplay and disavowed this in his memoirs. Seven years later, The Shrike was a somewhat grittier look at life inside a mental ward. Litvak also directed This Above All and many others.

Verdict: Hardly the final word on the subject but not without its merits. ***.

SORRY, WRONG NUMBER

SORRY, WRONG NUMBER (1948). Director: Anatole Litvak. 

"Henry! There's someone at the top of the stairs!" 

Barbara Stanwyck gives an outstanding, Oscar-nominated performance as the highly neurotic Leona Stevenson, who overhears a murder plot on a crossed telephone wire and tries to save the victim's life -- only to discover the life she's trying to save is her own. Long before the end of the movie you may want to strangle the self-absorbed Leona with her air of entitlement yourself, but Stanwyck also manages to work up some sympathy for the character. Burt Lancaster is also on the money as Leona's husband, Henry. A lot of suspense is worked up in trying to figure out what kind of dark business Henry has got himself cooked up in. While some may feel there's way too many flashbacks and telephone conversations in the picture, Sorry, Wrong Number is quite absorbing and has a terrific, scary finale. Screenwriter Lucille Fletcher opened up her radio play in convoluted but entertaining fashion. Top-notch photography by Sol Polito; fine score by Franz Waxman; well-directed by Litvak. Ed Begley (as Leona's father), Harold Vermilyea, Ann Richards and others offer solid supporting portrayals. 

Verdict: Stanwyck in top form! ***1/2.

THE LONG NIGHT

THE LONG NIGHT (1947). Director: Anatole Litvak.

Ann Dvorak loves Henry Fonda who loves Barbara Bel Geddes, who is loved by Vincent Price, who is ... and all with a lot of talk, talk, talk. The film begins with a murder, and the perpetrator being cornered by police in his apartment. After what seems like an hour the flashback finally begins that tells us what led up to the murder, but there are two problems: the flashback isn't that interesting, and it keeps getting interrupted by more scenes with the fugitive and the police. Fonda is back from the war, and meets Bel Geddes, who is both fascinated and repulsed by magician Vincent Price, whom was formerly carrying on with his assistant, Dvorak. It all leads to tragedy and a lot of tedium. The Long Night is turgid, pretentious and unconvincing nearly from start to finish; the wind-up takes even longer than the opening. Fonda's performance is too controlled, Price's too phony, but Dvorak is vivid and Bel Geddes is strong and fully committed; she's excellent in a movie that doesn't deserve her. The characterizations are too thin to make any of these people really matter to us -- and all that's left is talk. And when all is said and done this is just another movie about a guy who goes nutso when he discovers his gal isn't quite as "pure" as he thought she was, giving it all a very dated air. Dimitri Tiomkin's score is interesting, but too much -- this ain't exactly Grand Opera.

Verdict: A long night indeed. *1/2.

THIS ABOVE ALL

THIS ABOVE ALL (1942). Director: Anatole Litvak.

Prudence Cathaway (Joan Fontaine) appalls her snooty uppercrust British family by enlisting in the WAF during WW 2. She meets and falls in love with a bitter, disillusioned soldier, Clive Briggs (Tyrone Power), who has come to feel he's only fighting to preserve the unfair and hypocritical class structure -- although Prudence argues that the Germans must be defeated (oddly the term Nazi is never used. The film probably started production before the U.S. entered the war). Briggs has decided that he's going to be a deserter no matter what the consequences. This Above All (to thine own self be true) has some uncompromising attitudes in its depiction of Briggs, but the first half is superior to the second half. Once Prudence learns Briggs' secret, the picture veers a bit from romance into soap opera and becomes jingoistic. The business with Briggs encountering an unctuous priest who sets him straight is tiresome. However the performances are good and Alfred Newman's sensitive musical score embellishes every sequence. Fontaine is lovely in the film, although some may feel that she's borderline cloying at times. Power's performance is not so much great as rigorously earnest. Gladys Cooper is snippy and exact as Prudence's disapproving Aunt, and Nigel Bruce is excellent -- and nearly unrecognizable -- in the character part of an inn owner that is quite different from his Watson in the Sherlock Holmes movies. Certain scenes, such as a bar scene with melancholy songs, are imbued with the brave, sad, hopeless atmosphere of London during the Blitz, and an Air Raid sequence is chilling and well-done.

Verdict: Compelling if imperfect romance. ***.

THE SISTERS

THE SISTERS (1938). Director: Anatole Litvak. NOTE: This review contains some important plot points.

Now this is pure soap opera. The movie follows three sisters – Bette Davis, Anita Louise, Jane Bryan -- and their romantic up and downs over the years, and even features (somewhat unnecessarily) the San Francisco earthquake. Louise marries an older man but falls for a much younger one. Bryan finds happiness with her sister's cast-off boyfriend, Dick Foran. Davis falls for failed writer Errol Flynn, who goes off to sea in desperation and leaves her in the lurch. Both Davis and Flynn felt the film should end with Davis rejecting Flynn when he shows up years later and marrying her devoted boss Ian Hunter, but the studio and audiences of the time preferred the “happier” ending of Davis being reunited with Flynn. The picture is well-acted (even Flynn is uplifted by Davis' obvious on and off-screen love for him) and well-produced, but it remains a minor soaper with an unrealistic and unsatisfying conclusion. Flynn's character is not developed that well, and the two other sisters are given short shrift. Another half hour added to the running time might have helped.

Verdict: For Davis fanatics primarily. **1/2.