Desire Under the Elms

After a couple of studio films shot on location, Italian actress and sex symbol Sophia Loren finally made it onto Hollywood soil for this uneven, uncertain melodrama adapted from Eugene O'Neill's controversial play. A tyrannical New England farmer (Burl Ives), who apparently worked his past two wives to death, brings home a new wife to meet his sons--two of whom take off for California and the third (Anthony Perkins) who stays and eventually falls in love with the Mrs. The performers seem to be at a mismatch with this very strange material; though they try hard, the heavy prose and illogical situations would be enough to defeat anybody. The character motivations aren't always clear, not helped by the narrative which, at a crucial point, jumps ahead in time and nearly alienates the audience. Ives gives a full-throttle, blustery-old-windbag performance which infuses the scenario with a prickly tension (and the screenplay surprisingly never scores points against him), but glinty-eyed Loren is a bit out of her depth. Still, she survives the absurd final reel with her dignity intact, while the picture ends on such a dour note that the overall impression is one of supreme dissatisfaction. Daniel L. Fapp won an Oscar nomination for his handsome (if overlit) photography; Delbert Mann directed in an awkward and stagy fashion. **1/2 from ****

If you imagine yourself in a 1950s New York theatre surrounded by American anti-Communists wearing narrow ties and wanting to be cultured, you'll be able to connect with this wooden, would-be Greek tragedy. If not, don't go there, and get on board with TV's the Cartwrights, who seem to inhabit identical territory and period because they were performing almost simultaneously for an audience thousands of times bigger. It's worth watching for Antony Perkins, who is superbly mixed-up as an anti-authoritarian rebel determined to secure ownership of the family farm, but driven a bit strange by anxiety, paternal neglect and the early death of his mother. See him exit his lover's garden gate, pirouetting as he goes; or spinning in place before rising from his bed. It's so graceful you barely notice. He's like an 11 year-old, changing his mind every five minutes, madly self-conflicted as a result of his irresistible lust for the maid, sorry, his father's third wife. Sophia Loren is powerful in this picture, if you can follow her English. She really occupies her part and fills her space. The passion between her and Perkins would be almost believable, if it weren't expounded in this stagey setting, with neither Loren nor Perkins exposing any skin, which just adds to the sense of attending a school play. Actually, the basic material of Desire Under The Elms is purely adult, but somehow this production renders it about as sinful as Agatha Christie.

It's a while since I saw this film, but it has remained in my memory ever since. A solid drama with some impressive performances by Anthony Perkins, Burl Ives and Sophia Loren. Story of a classic father vs son conflict, it shows how love can have a destructive power as in the end it shows that effect on its protagonists, Perkins and Loren. Sophia Loren's character is quite impressive, but thats hardly a surprise knowing that it was created by Eugene O'Neill. She succeeds bringing it to life admirably. Anthony Perkins makes one of his best performances, especially in his early career.

This is a really pleasant experience for fans of good drama and coupled with some great scenery and the appeal of Loren and Perkins in their prime years, this comes off as a cross between "Wuthering Heights" and "Gone with the Wind". A wonderful film.

Desire Under the Elms is one of those films that is a lethal combination: sordid and sluggish. It's not as though it would have been much better or less offensive if it went at a faster clip, but the funereal pacing only makes you recognize how hopeless it all is. The three leads try (and Burl Ives in particular gets well into the part), but at this point, the tale of a forbidden love affair and its consequences, once a much praised play by Eugene O'Neill, feels more like one of those horribly overheated and vulgar true crime stories that feature on TV as you race to move on to another channel. What can you really say when you can't stand any of the parties in this love (or is it lust) triangle? As Audrey Hepburn might have said in Breakfast at Tiffany's, they are all "superrats". What little there is that is salvageable to some degree is the remarkably crisp black-and-white cinematography and yet another fine musical score by Elmer Bernstein. Otherwise, a complete wash.

Ephraim Cabot is an old man of amazing vitality who loves his New England farm with a greedy passion. Hating him, and sharing his greed, are the sons of two wives Cabot has overworked into early graves. Most bitter is Eben, whose mother had owned most of the farm, and who feels who should be sole heir.

This is a great cast all around, with Burl Ives and Sophia Loren. But Anthony Perkins is the star of the show and really excels as a conflicted son and love interest. Over the years, he has become increasingly synonymous with Norman Bates, but films like this show he is more versatile than his later horror career suggests.

I wonder how audiences viewed the morals of this film in the 1950s. While not quite incestuous, there is a very questionable morality. If not from the son, at the very least from a wife who is romantically linked to two generations of the same family.