The Bridge of San Luis Rey

steals the film. Too bad the film is an el cheapo production of the Thornton Wilder novel. Lynn Bari gets a rare starring role with Louis Calhern, Akim Tamiroff, Francis Lederer, Joan Lorring, Blanche Yurka, and Donald Woods rounding out the cast. Bari is game and quite good in some scenes but she can't hold this film together. Nazimova, a great silent star of the teens and 20s, easily steals every scene she's in. The climactic finale is really disappointing and ruins whatever good will the film as accumulated up to that point. Still worth seeing for Nazimova and Bari.

Though this version of The Bridge Of San Luis Rey got an Oscar nomination for Dimitri Tiomkin's musical score, it was like watching half a picture.

The novel is as much about the Brother Juniper character's inquiry into the lives of the six victims who died when the Inca rope bridge broke as it is about their lives. What Donald Woods as Brother Juniper was trying to do was seek for some meaning in the tragedy. Was it dumb luck or was some divine plan in operation?

Years ago Felix Frankfurter who was of Viennese Jewish heritage was quoted as saying that when Chief Justice Fred Vinson died it was the first time he had seen evidence of the existence of God and hence a divine plan. Vinson was wrestling and unsuccessfully with desegregation cases and when Ike appointed Earl Warren as Chief Justice those situations were resolved and the Supreme Court was unanimous in Brown vs. Board of Education which ended segregation. Not too mention a host of other decisions that changed American life. That was what Brother Juniper was trying to determine, was some divine plan in operation? That's a question that is usually filed under the Lord moves in mysterious ways. Trying to see those ways makes you a heretic questioning things best left to the Divine. That's the real story, all Donald Woods becomes here is a chronicler of a tragedy.

Not that some of Thornton Wilder's characters don't have their moments. Louis Calhern makes a crafty Viceroy and he's equally matched by Akim Tamiroff's even craftier official snitch. Lynn Bari was all right in a part that cried for a Rita Hayworth. And Alla Nazimova is a regal countess.

Still Wilder's whole novel was cut in half and the story he was telling went with it.

Thorton Wilder's novel of 18th Century Peru, The Bridge of San Luis Rey, translates to the screen as a rather slow moving, talky picture. Certainly not amongst the best examples of the 1940's classic period, but not as bad some critics have made it out. Production values are mediocre, and the story more philosophical than exciting. It is worth sticking with, however, for the acting and the intelligent script. An Accademy Award nominated score by the superb Dimitri Tiomkin helps out immensely.

The importance of old silent movie has-been Alla Nazimova in the scheme of this picture has been rather exaggerated by her ardent fans. She is good in a supporting role, but she hardly dominates the movie. Lynn Bari, the leading lady, is excellent as the social-climbing actress Michaela, around whom most of the plot revolves. Francis Lederer, who in the next decade would take a turn at the Dracula role, carries a big load in a dual role as twin brothers, one a dashing sea captain, the other a depressed scribe. But this movie really belongs to veteran character actors Louis Calhern as the Viceroy who is in love with Michaela, and Akim Tamiroff as Uncle Pio, Michaela' manager and the Viceroy's confidant-spy. The witty, literate exchanges between these two is the most amusing aspect of the movie.

Admittedly this movie is not for every taste. The dialog is going to be too literary and too self-consciously philosophical for most viewers. Every character in this story is a prodigy of philosophy, continually thinking on and talking on what his or her life is all about and what God must think of it. Some find the futility of seeking after life's treasures, other find redemption. The story is structured entirely in flashbacks starting from the tragic collapse of a bridge in the opening reel and the efforts of a faithful monk to learn why God willed it so. Flashbacks, though a tried and true story-telling device probably predating literature, seem to irritate some people, but the structure works well in this one. The story picks up steam in the second half, then neatly folds the end into a resolution which satisfies both drama and philosophy.

The Bridge of San Luis Rey is not top-notch entertainment, but has its rewarding moments if you are in the right mood.

I was so curious about Nazimova acting in the forties; I barely managed to get through the beginning of the film without her.

Bari is striking, but it might as well be Hedi Lamarr for all the Peruvian flavor thus imparted.

We can almost slightly believe 'Uncle Pio'

Otherwise, one simply watches this to see the phenomenon of Alla Nazimova as the Marquesa, who obviously only slightly enjoyed playing the horrible bitch and accessed the despicability of the costumes and sets with her Stanislavskian training to invoke bitter.

I was curious to note that Alla came through excellently in sound production. Which begs the question, "What the hell was she doing in the 1930's?"

Alla was clearly waiting to get paid and really deserves top billing over Bari.

The first half hour of the 1944 adaptation of Thornton Wilder's Pulitzer Prize- winning novel is excruciatingly dull even with a rope bridge over an Andean

abyss collapsing. Uncomfortable with an eschatological question posted to him by a bystander peastant, priest Donald Woods sets out to find out more about

the five people who were on the bridge when it collapsed. Most of the rest of the movie (until a reprise that shows who was on the bridge in an exceedingly

phony studio-set disaster) recalls the career and would-be-lovers of a singer, Micaela (Lynn Bari), born poor, trained by impresario Uncle Pio (Akim Tamiroff) and vied for by the viceroy (Louis Calhern) and a ship captain (Francis Lederer). Except for the scenes with both of the suitors and a comical training of Micaela in swooning, the movie is dull and the whole is uncinematic, including the

framing disaster sequences. The scenes are overlit, the sets and dialog artificial, the music and cinematography uninspiring. Lynn Bari was devoid of mystery or

charisma (and given far too much screen time), and a ridiculously pat

Hollywood happy ending was substituted for Wilder's. Nazimova is wasted,

though Calhern, Lederer, and Tamiroff breathe occasional life into the

proceedings.