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In one respect, it's like 'The Wizard of Oz,' with Paris in black-and-white and the Riviera in color. But it's supposedly about possessive love, destructiveness and moral decadence, while actually being about designer gowns, shots of the Riveria, lots of big expensive cars, and music-and dancing interludes that suggest Vincente Minnelli on one of his off-days. Watchable, but a remarkable example of desperate, dark plot material and glitzy style heading in opposite directions. (Was this the model for 'The Talented Mister Ripley? Does anyone sense an affinity between Jean Seberg and Matt Damon?)

The production values are weak, the handling of the spirits is laughable, the wedding masque is tedious, and Ferdinand's hairstyle seems, to our current sense of fashion, ludicrous. BUT this television of Shakespeare's play is to be prized for some excellent performances, most notably Michael Hordern's restrained, intelligent, compassionate and emotionally profound performance as Prospero. Listen to him handle the difficult exposition in Act I, watch how he gives his approval to his daughter's marriage, how he releases Ariel, and the wonderful transition he makes into the final epilogue. There are some fine performances here--you just have to look past some unfortunate design and directorial choices.

Hollywood, the home of hype, glamor and the search for profits, is scarcely ruled by spiritual values, and so it comes as no surprise that its attempts at investigations of the spiritual life are thin and often silly (better to go farther afield--to the films of Bresson, Dreyer, Rossellini and Bergman, for probing depictions of the spirituality). "Strange Cargo" is no exception. This odd hybrid of adventure film, love story and religious parable trivializes the very insights it tries to communicate. That a figure of providence and salvation would work to match Verne (Clark Gable at his most cockily mannered and self-regarding) and Julie (Joan Crawford, snarling and spitting out every other word in an attempt to be the Queen of Tough Dames) seems ludicrous at best. Is this the Patron Saint of the Star System at work, matching warring egos before sending them off to further penal servitude on the M-G-M lot? BUT. . .there are good supporting performances here, and visually arresting moments: the shadowy prison barracks; the escaping boat by moonlight, or against a painterly cloudscape; Julie walking along the seafront as the wind whips up; Julie and Monsieur Pig (Peter Lorre) bargaining for Verne's freedom as the storm builds; an unusually ennobling gay prison romance between two convicts. . .Above all, there is Paul Lukas's dignified and detached performance as Hessler, a murderer who can appreciate Cambreau's virtues, yet turns his back on him. In the film's most arresting moment, Hessler, having left Cambreau, stands outside the cabin. We hear the wind through the jungle, see the shadows on his face, which conveys a moment of fear and self-doubt. Then he exits into the night. In this moment, Hessler achieves an ambiguity, depth and existential strength that none of the other characters manage to achieve. is the film's secret that its deepest sympathies are allied with Hessler?