Strange Interlude

I don't know exactly why, but I really got caught up in this movie. At first hearing everyone's thoughts is kinda strange, but it really helps you understand the characters and their motivations. By the end of the movie, you feel sorry for just about everyone in it, that they all lied and deprived themselves of happiness so that Sam could be happy. The great thing about this movie, is that you keep waiting for the payoff at the end where everyone finds out the truth of the strange 4 way love triangle (I guess that would be a love square). But it never really fulfills itself and not all the characters learn the truth.

I guess the thing I like about this movie the most is that the suspense is like a pot of boiling water. You keep waiting for it to overflow and have a kind of epiphany when it does overflow. But the movie never gives that epiphany because Sam and Gorden never find out the truth and I think the movie is better for it.

This movie was panned back in 1932 when it came out, and I just don't get it. It's a very intelligent and emotionally moving film. I wish Hollywood of the modern era could make films like this instead of all the cardboard junk with a happy ending that they have these days.

I guess most people just don't get it. But those that do will be gratetful for films like this.

Great acting all around, especially for Norma Shearer, Clark Gable, and all the main characters. The kid Tad Alexander who played young Gordon was great. Ahh he's 77 years old now. MAN

I've never seen a Norma Shearer movie that I didn't adore. Ha, all those old Hollywood Queens are nothing compared to Norma.

Eugene O'Neill's 4 and a half hour 1927 play brought to the screen in less than two hours. The play's combination of symbolic dialogue and gothic melodrama hasn't aged very well and the cast has some difficulty with it, especially Norma Shearer's Nina and Ralph Morgan's Marsden. Clark Gable as Ned Darrell comes off better but mostly because his is a gruff character not given to the philosophical musings of the others which better fits Gable's range. Once the plot settles down to the love quadrangle and the audience adjusts to the voiceover asides the film does become more enjoyable. The technique used here for the asides is another problem. On stage the action froze while the actors spoke their thoughts to the audience. Here they're done as voiceovers. You'd think that would work better but since the action no longer freezes the actors are forced to pause speaking and grimace at the camera to match the emotions in their thoughts. Plus it's difficult for any movie buff to watch this film and not think of Groucho Marx's hilarious parody version in "Animal Crackers." Added to these drawbacks are some cuts made for censorship reasons (Nina's promiscuity is soft-peddled and there is no mention of her getting the abortion that is more central in the play) and a wretched score (uncredited) that sounds like background music to a turn-of-the-century weepie. O'Neill called this film "a dreadful hash of attempted condensation and idiotic censorship," and although "Strange Interlude" is nowhere near as great as his later "The Iceman Cometh" and "Long Day's Journey Into Night," it certainly deserved better than this.

Eugene O'Neill's nine-act theatrical experiment created quite a stir in 1928, so it was inevitable that Hollywood would snap it up. The play's novelty was that the characters spoke their thoughts aloud in the manner of asides. On the stage, some of these speeches went on for quite some time while the other actors in the scene froze in place; on film they are reduced in length and pre-recorded so that while we hear the words we see the appropriate facial expressions on both the speaking and the listening actors. Nothing about these spoken thoughts expands our understanding of the thinkers in ways that good acting or deft direction couldn't have done just as well. The story, actually a saga, concerns a woman (Norma Shearer) unhinged by the death of her dashing aviator fiancé in the World War; she sets out to salvage her connection to this lost ideal man by marrying a lesser specimen, bearing his male child and naming it after the deceased. Along the way she learns from her mother-in-law (May Robson) that insanity runs in the husband's family. Convinced that this undesirable genetic trait will show up in her offspring, she aborts the child she is carrying and mates with a virile doctor friend (Clark Gable, who else?) to produce a healthy son which she then passes off as the husband's. Hard to believe? You bet. But it worked fascinatingly on the page, and perhaps even on the stage, but not on screen where it becomes just a series of mostly attractive talking heads. It is dramatically effective only in spots. Shearer is by turns compelling and strained. Clark Gable handles the material well until he encounters some overwrought plot contrivances near the end whereupon he is further hobbled by unconvincing old age makeup.

Norma Shearer, still carrying torch for handsome Gordon, who died in WW1, marries another guy on the rebound, only to find that insanity runs in his family and she can't have children with him (but how will she ever be the mother of a son as handsome as dear, dead Gordon?), and she can't leave him because the shock would certainly send him over the edge into terminal wacked-out nuttiness. What to do? Gimmick here is that, along with the spoken dialogue, we share the inner thoughts of the characters -- presented as V.O. while the actors stand around mute, making faces as if somebody just broke wind on the set. Did anyone watch this with a straight face in 1932? Film goes on long enough that the sanity of the audience is tested much more severely than that of Shearer's husband, but was reportedly 5 or 6 hours in theatrical production. (Any cries of "Author! Author!" at that premiere came, no doubt, from a lynch mob.) It's an MGM, so of course the cast is first-rate, but is it their fault the act is a louse?

Watching these excellent performers attempt to maneuver through such a melodramatic, ridiculous format, I couldn't help but cringe.

"Hearing" characters express their inner thoughts via voice-over narration throughout the ENTIRE film is simply a bad idea. The pacing of every scene is destroyed, and the facial expressions displayed by the actors, to accompany their "narration," borders on parody.

This movie was produced just five years into the "sound" era, and apparently a few of the actors had not yet abandoned the silent film style of exaggerated performance.

Never have I seen a film adopt this technique, and frankly, I will never sit through another that does. "Narration" (or voice-over) is fine when used appropriately - as in almost any film noir. But in this case, the experiment fails.

Gable fares the best, as his earthy style is less inclined to be derailed by the "inner dialogues." I simply CANNOT recommend this film.