Verdi dimore

Let's dispense with the good points first. At least SOME of the casting works. Specificly, I'm speaking, first, of Hepburn at her most mysterious and bewitching. No one else could have possibly played Rima with the fey charm tinged with mystery that Audrey, at her most radiant, brings to the role. Then, there's Henry Silva as a virile, villianous Indian. Silva, to my mind, was and still is one of the cinema's great heavies, and he doesn't disappoint here. His quiet underplaying vs. Tony Perkins' hammy overplaying when the former's duplicity is discovered is a perfect illustration of what stands the test of time and what doesn't. Plus, there are the beautiful Amazon locations and Bronislau Kaper's beautiful, understated score.

Now on to the bad points, and where better to begin that Tony Perkins' impossible miscasting in the lead. The lean, intense Perkins was always a masterly potrayer of angst, as Hitchcock discovered the next year. But he was never much of a conventional leading man, and this film, and the following year's "Tall Story," bring this weakness sharply into focus. Someone such as, say, Robert Wagner or Laurence Harvey, would have been far more believeable. They were the right age for the role, and both were under contract to MGM at the time. What were they thinking? Then there's Sessue Hayakawa, still riding high from his "River Kwai" comeback, as the most improbable native chieftan on record. At least he comports himself with his usual innate dignity. Mel Ferrer, Hepburn's husband at the time, was always a fine actor, but never more than an average director. One can invision a William Wyler (busy at the time with "Ben-Hur"), a George Cukor, or a William Dieterle as a far better director for this film. Finally, Dorothy Kingsly's screenplay fails to patch up the several sizable holes in the original W.H. Hudson story, particularly the "Is-she-dead-or-isn't-she?" ending.

In short, you could do worse that this film, but you could do much, much better, too.

Colorful locales, kitschy production design and a nice stroke of sado-masochism go a long way in making this obscure gem a guilty pleasure of jungle-lust adventure. Mel Ferrer directs the story like a comics classic, with his then-wife Audrey Hepburn playing a jungle girl with her usual Givenchy class, and Tony Perkins as a young Indiana-Jones type. Hokey and utterly inappropriate, but still enjoyably offbeat, especially when Perkins croons a love song. The other cast members fare much better: with Lee J. Cobb overacting perfectly as Audrey's old man; Sessue Hayakawa, laconic and petulant as the Indian chief; and Henry Silva, all wide-eyed enthusiasm as the warrior relishing his tortuous ritual of courage. Old-style Hollywood, matinee magic in CinemaScope, with the added wonder of Stereophonic sound.

Anthony Perkins does seem a little out of place in this beautifully shot, unique film from 1959. That is, until he makes it to the inner jungle and meets the bird girl Audrey Hepburn. In the romantic scenes with her, the two of them work quite well. The scene where he plays guitar and sings his love song to Rima (Hepburn) and seeing her face as he woos her, is the definite highlight for me. When he's trying to play the tough, strong guy it's a bit laughable. The cinematography is stunning and the Venezuelan jungle comes off as an idyllic fantasy place that's a sensual delight to watch. (The fakiness doesn't distract from the beauty but only helps to give it an otherworldly look. I really don't think it was intended to appear real) Overall this is not a very good film, but there's a romantic, sexual and fantasy appeal to the jungle scenes with Hepburn and Perkins that fuels the imagination for a film that could have been. Watching Hepburn prance around the jungle and glide along tree branches in that lithe way of hers is enough reason to watch this very different and amusing tale from the late 50's.

It's easy to see why 1959 critics called it "muddled". The film, which is set in South America's jungles, manages to be an ecological statement (man should take care of his surroundings), a love story, a tale of redemption (in the film's first ten minutes, Abel (Anthony Perkins) sees his father killed and vows vengeance on the killers. Audrey Hepburn as Rima does her utmost in a near impossible part. Lee J. Cobb overacts as Rima's protector.

MGM spent over one million dollars (a great deal of money in 1959) getting shots of South America to mix in with the main filming done on MGM's back lot. The mixing in of the shots is well done, but it's obvious what was shot at MGM and what were the South American jungle shots. Perkins is the voice of sanity in the film, because whenever the plot threatens to get too wispy, he brings it back down to earth. He has a scene where he serenades Rima with his lovely tenor voice. It was a pity that he was never in a film musical.

If the film has a message it seems to be that true love never dies.

Perhaps Mel Ferrer was not the right director for this sort of whimsical fantasy. Whatever, the dreamlike quality of the forest settings (some real, some with painted backgrounds on studio sets), combined with lifeless direction and uneven script, makes this a disappointment from beginning to end.

ANTHONY PERKINS, AUDREY HEBURN and LEE J. COBB are never able to flesh out their characters. Hepburn seems oddly miscast in a role requiring very little of her talent. Perkins does slightly better but again is hampered by a weak role that tries to give him a few heroics but fails to ignite any sparks with Hepburn or any of his co-players. Lee J. Cobb has the most substantial character to play and does it well enough.

The whole film seems like a low point in the careers of all involved despite gorgeous Technicolor photography and an interesting background score. No wonder the public stayed away.

The foolish ending with Perkins and Hepburn voicing some tired clichés about finding love is cringe-worthy.

Summing up: A true misfire for all concerned.