Le Voile des illusions

Garbo is luminous in this adaptation of the Somerset Maugham story "The Painted Veil." It's a beautiful, lavish production with great direction from Clarence Brown. The story is a nice adaptation, if truncated. The stars are in especially fine form. George Brent plays a convincing cad. Herbert Marshall is in the role he always played best, as the sincere and kind, but neglected, husband. Other reviewers who noted the morality of the story are correct--this is one of those films which inspires those who watch it to be good people. The moving love story wins the viewer over by the end of the film.

The score and cinematography were lush. The Asian sets were intriguingly exotic and fun to look at. Also interesting were the title scenes at the beginning of the film, in which the name GARBO stays behind the credits. Truly indicative of the heights Garbo's star power had reached by the time THE PAINTED VEIL was released!

This film has some rather fantastic elements about it, mainly that Greta Garbo would be playing a spinster, and that having several suitors - as her mother claims that she has - she would hastily accept a marriage proposal from someone for whom she has absolutely no passion. In this case it is Herbert Marshall playing both an unloved husband and a devoted medical researcher into the cause and prevention of cholera. The other fantastic element is trying to believe that there is any chemistry between Garbo and "the other man, George Brent. Brent - who was so wonderful with Kay Francis, Bette Davis, and Ruth Chatterton - is here no more attractive than the husband he is trying to supplant. He has all the chemistry of a cardboard box.

The best part of the film is once Marshall realizes he has been cuckolded and makes an ultimatum to his faithless wife. He has just learned of a raging cholera epidemic in inland China and must go there and try to get it under control. His wife can stay behind if Brent's character agrees to get a divorce, in which case she can also have one. If he does not agree to this, then Garbo must come along with him on his expedition and thus be exposed to the most extreme danger.

This was one of Garbo's first films after the production code came into effect earlier in 1934. There were so many limits put on what could be said and shown and even insinuated that it really put a damper on what was supposed to be a pretty torrid love triangle. Trying to perform in a moral straight jacket is probably what really cost this film its potential edge. I'd recommend this for Garbo completists only.

GARBO...the five-letter name, synonymous with glamour and mystery, fills the screen and overwhelms the film's title and the rest of the cast. The legendary actress, Greta Garbo, warranted the outsize billing, and her glowing image dominates this romantic triangle based on a novel by W. Somerset Maugham. Dr. Walter Fane is a research assistant in Austria, and he harbors romantic intentions for Katrin, the daughter of his superior. Summoning the courage to propose, Fane quickly weds Katrin, and the pair head to China, where Fane's friend, Jack Townsend from the British embassy, aggressively courts the often neglected Katrin. Further complications ensue when a cholera epidemic breaks out, and Fane insists that Katrin accompany him further into the Chinese interior, where she will be separated from Townsend, and he will fight the disease.

As Katrin, Garbo is luminescent. No surprise as to why, because she was photographed by William H. Daniels, who lensed 21 Garbo films, and was garbed by Adrian, who dressed her in some of her greatest roles. The screen goddess, a moniker the actress richly merits, is flawless in dress or image, whether profile or three-quarter view, close-up or full figure. When she quickly wraps a white scarf around her hair to go out, she emerges as pure elegance in full length white attire. Displaying all the mannerisms that her audience adored, from the fluttering eyelids and raised eyebrows to the subtle trembling of her mouth, Garbo is reason enough to see "The Painted Veil." Whether watching a Chinese pageant that resembles an act from the Ziegfeld Follies or running through streets filled with panicked Chinese, Garbo's makeup is pristine, her clothing spotless, and her air poised. The term "star" was coined for a screen presence such as hers.

Not surprisingly, Garbo's two male co-stars in the film pale in comparison. While neither Herbert Marshall nor George Brent were particularly memorable actors, they were often paired with strong actresses like Garbo or Bette Davis that unfairly cast them into the shadows. However, both Marshall and Brent were skilled and acquit themselves well here, although cognizant that audiences were there to see Garbo and not them. Whatever merits the Maugham novel possesses, the film's brief 85-minute running time is rushed, and motivations are not particularly convincing. The Marshall-Garbo marriage seems arbitrary and loveless from the start, and Townsend's pursuit of his friend's wife is a cold-hearted stab in the back. However, audiences did not come to analyze the characters or the plot, they came to see Garbo, and she gloriously commands attention in "The Painted Veil."

The future looked a little uncertain for Greta Garbo in 1934. Under pressure from the rampant, crackpot Catholic League of Decency whose members were boycotting movie theatres and declaring 'purify or destroy Hollywood', the usually malleable Joseph Breen was obliged to make even stricter the Production Code. 'Mata Hari' was cut and 'Queen Christina' taken out of circulation whilst this adaptation of Somerset Maugham's 'The Painted Veil' needed to tone down its so-called sexual content and instead reflect moral values.

These factors alone cannot entirely explain why this film disappoints. Garbo's scenes with Herbert Marshall are excellent and there is a chemistry between her and George Brent owing to their relationship at the time being more than just professional. It just lacks that 'alchemy' by which everything comes together and falls below director Richard Boleslawski's usual high standards.

Garbo need not have worried as David 0. Selznick was soon to come to her aid. Whatever its flaws and despite being the least faithful to Maugham's original it remains, for this viewer at any rate, the most entertaining of the three versions. 'The Seventh Sin' of Ronald Neame and an uncredited Vincente Minnelli is rather lacklustre whilst it is probably kinder to draw a discreet veil over the most recent version directed by someone named John Curran.

The best adaptation of Maugham may be "The Letter," but this version of "The Painted Veil," which substantially changes his ending, is very nearly as good-- as subtle, as elegant, and as satisfying as a work of art. Both examine the profound differences and similarities that exist between passion and love, but this film goes deeper, looking at the glory that ensues when, at length, love and passion bloom together.

Much credit goes to William Daniels, who was D.P. for directors from Stroheim to Ichikawa to Bud Yorkin. His framing and silvery lighting give even greater weight to the superb performances by Garbo and the masterful Herbert Marshall. Together Daniels and director Boleslawski allow the two actors to deliver the very affecting and very adult dialog with rare dignity and feeling.

The two kitchen scenes in particular, one in the first sequence, and one near the end, are flawless, and all the better because of being parallels, and because the dialog employs the sheer force of elemental simplicity. In the second scene,when cholera-fighting Marshall finally speaks of his wife's infidelity, he humbly takes some of the blame, saying, "I went blind… a little mad. But if all the men who were hurt simply quit — bad business." Garbo at last begins to understand and replies, "Being in love, and letting it smash things as I have, I thought it had the right of way, I really did." She finally realizes that passion, such as hers for her lover, can be both deeply felt and utterly shallow.

One more note about the visual genius on display. A standard cliché, fireworks,is used to suggest orgasm, but it is done as brilliantly and thrillingly as I've ever seen: three or four bursts of sparks shoot into the frame, like nothing so much as ejaculation.