Desire Me

"Desire Me" is a mess of a film. No director wanted to take credit for it. And the stars have absolutely no chemistry.

But this is supposed to be a love story about undeniable passions between a widow who steadfastly grieves her husband and a man who claims to have known him when he was alive. Unfortunately, the script makes him feel more like a bully than a lover. Greer Garson plays the object of his attentions. She is no prize herself. Her motivations are muddy, her outlook morose, and she seems to (willingly) be a victim of the gossipmongers of the town--including the local cleric--who presume to judge her.

Watching "Desire Me" is drudgery. None of the characters are very likable. And the payoff for watching the film is a final sequence that lacks the intended suspense, then concludes with an emotionally inappropriate ending, leaving the viewer with a feeling of betrayal.

None of the major players or the directors felt pride after making this film. And it shows.

Director George Cukor was so unhappy with his production of "Desire Me," that he insisted that his name be taken off the opening credits. It was the first film M-G-M had ever released without one. No happy memories about the filming for Greer Garson either. During the filming of one scene, which was by the ocean, a wave came up unexpectedly and swept the star out to sea. She nearly drowned!

I just finished viewing "Desire Me" (bad title, I admit), which I began with a bit of trepidation--so off-putting was its reputation as an MGM stinker--but I found myself drawn into its unique realm mainly by the compelling performances of G. Garson and R. Hart. Sadly, R. Mitchum, one of my favorite actors of all time, had little on screen time in which to create a character of depth. Perhaps the filmmakers didn't realize that they had (unintentionally?) created a fine piece of magic realism--the almost mythic setting in a remote and traditionally mystical part of France (the realm of Breton-Arthurian legend and the arcane spiritual 4th dimension of the Celts), land of fog and mists. There are the "singing pool" that Garson shows to Hart, the doppelganger figures of Hart and Mitchum, a deeply troubled Garson's brave navigation of the rough emotional waters between these two men, the superbly photographed climax in deep fog in which one could scarcely distinguish between Mitchum and Hart. The only jarring note was the badly read voice-over introducing a saccharine tone into the concluding moments of the film. I think this is a must-see for anyone claiming to be a knowledgeable fan of 1940s films.

"Desire Me" from 1947 was a troubled film, with everyone hating everyone else, and George Cukor having his name removed from the credits. If only some of that passion had been on the screen, we might have a movie to talk about.

As it is, "Desire Me" is the old story of a French woman, Marise (Greer Garson) who doesn't know if her husband, last heard of in a work camp, is dead or alive. A friend of his, Jean (Richard Hart) comes to see her.

Her husband Paul (Robert Mitchum) was his friend at the camp, and talked about Marise incessantly. Jean knows all about her, and he was kept alive by Paul's stories. He felt he just had to meet her. He breaks the news to her that Paul is dead. Yeah, and guess what.

First of all, you can see this plot coming a mile away. Secondly, though we hear about this great love that Paul and Marise have, we don't see any of it in flashbacks, just their wedding. Third, Jean is such an obvious phony, determined to push his way into her house and life, that it's ridiculous.

The name Richard Hart didn't conjure up much for me, and after seeing him in this, I know why. Sadly he died four years later, at the age of 35, which is awful.

I would say he was completely misdirected in this. The character of Jean (my opinion only) should have been warm, sincere, helpful, without a hint of pushiness so that he can inculcate himself into Marise's life.

Robert Mitchum ultimately doesn't have much to do. He spent most of his time eating sandwiches with onion and Roquefort when he had scenes with Greer Garson, whom he thought was stuck-up. Cukor and Garson fought, and Cukor left the film.

For all that, the film is quite atmospheric, with enough dry ice creating fog that you almost couldn't see anyone.

Greer Garson is good given the material.

If you're a fan of hers, watch this film; if not, skip it.

This is a film to be cherished for its lush cinematography, exquisite and picturesque settings, character development, and fine performances. While the story is on the surface a love triangle, there are complexities among the characters, and in their relationships with each other, that make the film compelling in spite of being typical Hollywood romance. The film shines with Cukor's touches throughout, although he was uncredited as director. The production values are first class, and appropriately polished.

While DESIRE ME is generally perceived to be one of classic Hollywood's biggest turkeys, public perception is often misleading. For those of us who are fans of the genre, of Hollywood myth, melodrama, and romance, this is a lovely, lovely film. But it seems even less likely that such a film would be appreciated in these times than in 1947.