November 25, 2020

A Place for Lovers.

Review #1600: A Place for Lovers.

Cast
Faye Dunaway (Julia), Marcello Mastroianni (Valerio), Caroline Mortimer (Maggie), Enrico Simonetti (Party Host), Karin Eugh (Griselda), Esmeralda Ruspoli (Attorney's wife), and Yvonne Gilbert (Marie) Directed by Vittorio De Sica (#1436 - The Garden of the Finzi-Continis)

Review: 
As the saying goes, sometimes the ones who make the best stuff can make a mistake somewhere. If you look up classic turkey films, the usual pattern sticks with a number of those films, namely in folks with talent backed up by bad execution/budget, or others who specialized in clunkers. But Vittorio de Sica? He sticks out like a sore thumb when it comes to having a clunker in his lineup, particularly with previous classics like Shoeshine (1946) and Bicycle Thieves (1948). Of course, not every film was a grand affair of neorealism or effective somber tone, such as the case with films like The Last Judgement (1961) and After the Fox (1966) that did not sit greatly with audiences. In any case, the best way to sum it up is that directors can have highs and lows like the actors that are present to be there on screen. In this case, it is strange to see Dunaway and Mastroianni, both no strangers to being in films directed by memorable names (with this being the third collaboration between De Sica and Mastroianni).

The big problem is that this is a film (a Italian-French production that is in English and Italian) with sloppy foundations everywhere, not the least bit when it comes to the fact that there were six credited writers: Brunello Rondi, Julian Zimet, Peter Baldwin, Ennio De Concini, Tonino Guerra, and Cesare Zavattini, which was based on the play Gli Amanti by Rondi and Renaldo Cabieri. How do you have that many cooks in the kitchen and not realize how silly it all it seems? We have a film that gradually reveals its little trick: It's a romance with one of the folks having a terminal disease. Exactly what disease is unclear, and the fact that Dunaway only seems slightly in "despair" means it is probably one of the quietest quick-killing diseases in film history. But hey, there would be plenty of time for films with star-crossed romances with terminal diseases in the following few years such as Love Story (1970) and Bobby Deerfield (1977). Somehow, despite the fact that Dunaway and Mastroianni apparently fell in love with each other during production, they don't really seem to generate much passion on the actual screen itself. Dunaway isn't terrible, in the sense that she seems just as determined to make it all count as she would in better films from this era like Bonnie and Clyde (1967), but being hamstrung by clunky writing does not help. Maybe it's the gulf of differences between Mastroianni and Dunaway that make it ultimately offbeat (with the former being 17 years older and each being more familiar with their native countries than international stuff like this). The best way to sum up his performance is in a little scene involving Dunaway not wanting pity and he expresses that he only wants her love: which he naturally does while raising his voice and saying it over and over again. Sometimes one would prefer to look past the window and hope there isn't a volcano about to erupt over all this goo.

Everything feels so strangely lifeless, where the magic touch of seeing people find something within the other person feels like being on a very long elevator. Am I watching a puppet show? Because these people sure don't seem very "real" to me, and one almost wonders if the strings are going to fall off with how wooden they all are. Simply put, De Sica made a misfire of a film, one that aims for touching melodrama but instead hits the back end for a slop-inducing mess, one that may look really nice with its scenery but sure is dull with or without the background. The best benefit is that it is only 88 minutes I guess, but it really doesn't have much of an ending to seal itself with, not seeming like the bittersweet pull it seems to aspire for - I must admit that I was curious to see if it really would show one of them die...if only to see the offbeat "cause of death" listing that would either be the mystery disease or falling off a cliff. But then again, there really isn't much of a vibrant middle of the film. But wait, there really isn't much of a vibrant and useful beginning either, since there is a consolidated cast of merely two to focus on, and the result matches the confusion reflected in one scene, where they get into a "fight" and then make up in front of everyone that seems as ridiculous in film as it might seem in real life. There are fair positives to list, in the sense that I can't trash this completely: it is nice to look at sometimes, probably because at least De Sica knows not to just put them in a backlot with tacky clothing. So at least one probably mute the movie and just guess what they are saying in those 60s clothes...and Ella Fitzgerald contributes two songs. Actually, just listen to the songs instead, because turkeys don't really get much better as they age, one might say. In a sea of De Sica films to choose from (one could find this online to purchase/stream, since it doesn't really look like it got a proper video release, but if they look between the lines, they might find a dinky print somewhere for less), this might be suitable only to see how far one can go in patience in romance.

Next Time: You desire something with more punishment? Too late, it's time for Lost Horizon (1973).

Overall, I give it 4 out of 10 stars.

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