To repeat, this film has everything going for it: top-notch cast, direction, no expense spared in production. It achieved an enthusiastic audience response when it came out. Why does it leave me dissatisfied?
First, it is hard to adapt a complex novel for the stage or screen. It's not impossible. Great authors, Charles Dickens for one, adapted their work for the stage. Some Dickens novels, "Great Expectations" and "Oliver Twist," at the very same time this film was being made, reached the screen magnificently in slimmed-down versions. Not this one. Apparently, Somerset Maugham prepared a screenplay. It was not used. Perhaps that was the mistake. The screenplay that was used follows the novel. But it fails to capture the essence.
Larry, the protagonist, is disillusioned with life, a reasonable reaction to WW I. He goes on his quest for spiritual enlightenment, as in the novel. He finds it, more or less. But what is it? We never know. The novel includes a long digression on that point. The movie omits it. We are left with a rather kitschy picture of a pleasant, peaceful fellow, who tells us he is well on the road to Truth, but never gives us a sign or even a signpost, neither in his speech nor in his behavior. Yet his spiritual search is presented as the key to the whole story. He seeks meaning in the quartiers populaires of Paris and in the coal mines of Picardy. Fine. I had a high school friend who disdained bourgeois life and went off to find fulfillment as a dockworker in Milwaukee. He found egotism. He came away with a happy sense of superiority that let him look down on parasitic rich people. Our Larry goes on to see the guru in the Himalayas. What profound wisdom does he imbibe? We are given no clue. He shuts himself up in a mountaintop retreat, after which he has seen It (capital I) - whatever It is. He can now face mankind. It's an old practice, not confined to Indian gymnosophists. St. Anthony and his fellows, the Desert Fathers, isolated themselves. But the aim was not to rejoin the world. It was to transcend it. Abba Macarius (or one of his fellow desert saints - I'm not sure which) was said to be so otherworldly that his disciples had to hold him down lest his body along with his spirit soar to the realm of God. Larry keeps his feet firmly planted. He returns to society. How is he changed? I can't see it. Tyrone Power plays the very same faintly vacuous character he was before. How does he use his great enlightenment? A little hypnotism to relieve John Payne of chronic migraines. He becomes a one-man AA to cure Sophie off the sauce. (Sophie, by the way, is the only skid-row alcoholic I have ever imagined who can be tracked down because she won't settle for anything less than hugely expensive liqueur.) Now I'm not calling for the movie to add a heavy explanation of transcendental spirituality. But since this is the crux of the story, we ought to get something - instead of nothing.
Anne Baxter richly deserved an Oscar. The rest of the cast makes little impression. Tyrone Power I love as an actor. He just didn't get into this character. Clifton Webb, as usual, is supremely supercilious. No one, except maybe Gladys Cooer, did superciliousness better. But that's it. Cecil Humphreys is a perfectly manicured, made-for-Hollywood yogi. They would have done far better with Sam Jaffe as he was in "Lost Horizon," a really mysterious and effective Wise Man. Gene Tierney - I hate to say it because she was marvelous in many roles - does nothing with this role. It demands much more bite. She is presented as materialistic, self-satisfied, a contrast to the ever-searching Larry. She needs to have, a touch at least, of a hard edge. Gene Tierney is sweetness all the way through, even as she commits one of the cruelest acts put on the screen. Who can sympathize with a person who deliberately inveigles a recovering alcoholic into a room, then plants her alone with a bottle of booze and a glass? The movie cries out for Claire Trevor.
Larry goes off to be a dockworker, or something. Everyone left alive resumes life as before. And we leave the movie theater, or our DVD, with ... what? The novel demands better than that.
First, it is hard to adapt a complex novel for the stage or screen. It's not impossible. Great authors, Charles Dickens for one, adapted their work for the stage. Some Dickens novels, "Great Expectations" and "Oliver Twist," at the very same time this film was being made, reached the screen magnificently in slimmed-down versions. Not this one. Apparently, Somerset Maugham prepared a screenplay. It was not used. Perhaps that was the mistake. The screenplay that was used follows the novel. But it fails to capture the essence.
Larry, the protagonist, is disillusioned with life, a reasonable reaction to WW I. He goes on his quest for spiritual enlightenment, as in the novel. He finds it, more or less. But what is it? We never know. The novel includes a long digression on that point. The movie omits it. We are left with a rather kitschy picture of a pleasant, peaceful fellow, who tells us he is well on the road to Truth, but never gives us a sign or even a signpost, neither in his speech nor in his behavior. Yet his spiritual search is presented as the key to the whole story. He seeks meaning in the quartiers populaires of Paris and in the coal mines of Picardy. Fine. I had a high school friend who disdained bourgeois life and went off to find fulfillment as a dockworker in Milwaukee. He found egotism. He came away with a happy sense of superiority that let him look down on parasitic rich people. Our Larry goes on to see the guru in the Himalayas. What profound wisdom does he imbibe? We are given no clue. He shuts himself up in a mountaintop retreat, after which he has seen It (capital I) - whatever It is. He can now face mankind. It's an old practice, not confined to Indian gymnosophists. St. Anthony and his fellows, the Desert Fathers, isolated themselves. But the aim was not to rejoin the world. It was to transcend it. Abba Macarius (or one of his fellow desert saints - I'm not sure which) was said to be so otherworldly that his disciples had to hold him down lest his body along with his spirit soar to the realm of God. Larry keeps his feet firmly planted. He returns to society. How is he changed? I can't see it. Tyrone Power plays the very same faintly vacuous character he was before. How does he use his great enlightenment? A little hypnotism to relieve John Payne of chronic migraines. He becomes a one-man AA to cure Sophie off the sauce. (Sophie, by the way, is the only skid-row alcoholic I have ever imagined who can be tracked down because she won't settle for anything less than hugely expensive liqueur.) Now I'm not calling for the movie to add a heavy explanation of transcendental spirituality. But since this is the crux of the story, we ought to get something - instead of nothing.
Anne Baxter richly deserved an Oscar. The rest of the cast makes little impression. Tyrone Power I love as an actor. He just didn't get into this character. Clifton Webb, as usual, is supremely supercilious. No one, except maybe Gladys Cooer, did superciliousness better. But that's it. Cecil Humphreys is a perfectly manicured, made-for-Hollywood yogi. They would have done far better with Sam Jaffe as he was in "Lost Horizon," a really mysterious and effective Wise Man. Gene Tierney - I hate to say it because she was marvelous in many roles - does nothing with this role. It demands much more bite. She is presented as materialistic, self-satisfied, a contrast to the ever-searching Larry. She needs to have, a touch at least, of a hard edge. Gene Tierney is sweetness all the way through, even as she commits one of the cruelest acts put on the screen. Who can sympathize with a person who deliberately inveigles a recovering alcoholic into a room, then plants her alone with a bottle of booze and a glass? The movie cries out for Claire Trevor.
Larry goes off to be a dockworker, or something. Everyone left alive resumes life as before. And we leave the movie theater, or our DVD, with ... what? The novel demands better than that.