Bem Amada Inimiga

What happens when the leader of the Irish rebellion meets the daughter of an English nobleman? Well, when it's the passionate Merle Oberon and the ridiculously handsome Brian Aherne, they fall in love. In Beloved Enemy, you'll find a forbidden romance among the turmoil of war, similar to Romeo and Juliet. Just as in all classic romances, you can probably guess what will happen, but if you choose to watch this one, you won't be watching it for the plot twists. You'll be watching it for the eye candy, ladies, or because your girlfriend is forcing you to, gents. It is very fun, though, for voluntary watchers, because it has all the elements of a doomed, classic romance.

As you might suspect, since this is a movie about Irish people, Donald Crisp is one of the supporting characters, adding responsibility and gravity to the Irish cause. A young Jerome Cowan shines as one of the Irish rebels, and David Niven is the "designated friend" of Merle. I'd recommend this one, although it doesn't reach the heights of Duel in the Sun, because sometimes, us ladies just can't get enough dramatic love. And when you get to watch Brian's gorgeous face for ninety minutes, you're in for a great time!

In the "love-against-the-backdrop-of" genre, BELOVED ENEMY occupies a rather high position because of the intelligence with which an extremely unlikely romantic relationship is handled. Merle Oberon, the daughter of a British bigwig (Henry Stephenson), falls in love with an Irish rebel leader (Brian Aherne). But not only does her love for him not turn her against her own people, she even rats on him to the British military, only to be hugely relieved when he escapes from their ambush. Then she has the gall to visit him and admit her betrayal! This is truly a case of love conquers all. On one level this film is a plea for peace from a woman's point of view. Movies with pleas for peace were not uncommon in the mid- to-late Thirties. Needless to say, this production is a pure Hollywood gloss on the realities of the 1921 Irish Civil War, but at least the opening credits admit clearly that the story is "legend based on fact" with fictitious characters. When the going gets a bit heavy, we have those stunning physical specimens of Oberon and Aherne (their surnames even sound like poetry together) to feast our eyes upon. In close-up profile they both look exquisite. Oberon was a fine actress, much underrated. She had her limitations, but here, as in many other films, not only turned in a creditable and convincing performance but was a pleasure to watch as she did so. Aherne, as finely carved a block of wood that ever took human form, never quite comes to life. He is somehow not all there.

This is not a true story, although it is highly inspired by the Irish liberation war and conveys well enough the sentiments and main structure and development of the difficult struggle, where the most sensible ones were the most prone to get killed by fanatics for being diplomatic. The character this film makes you think of is Michael Collins, who described about the same development of character as Brian Aherne does, but Michael Collins was ultimately killed by his own. Here the drama is soothed and balanced by the lovely Merle Oberon, who was not too famous yet but the more enchanting for her youth, seconded by the equally youthful David Niven in the most important supporting part and making a very elegant and gentlemanly impression. The drama is very Irish, you have seen these problems and passions of fanatics and freedom fighters in almost every Irish film, and they are all of outstanding power and interest for their drama and fervent pathos. This is just one of a large number of all those Irish freedom passion plays, while all the best ones are more tragic. Here Merle Oberon gets the better of the tragedy.

Leave it to Sam Goldlwyn (and associates) to turn the Troubles of 1920 into a typical Hollywood melodrama and soapy love story. This is truly a curiosity, right up there with John Howard Lawson's BLOCKADE—the one about the Spanish Civil War. Whenever Hollywood touched controversial political subjects like this one there was always a chance that one side or other of the box-office might be offended. Therefore, we are never quite certain what the Irish want, other than Brian Aherne wanting Merle Oberon (and who can blame him), but somehow the message is clear that if an Irish rebel Romeo and an English lady Juliet had managed to wiggle themselves into a peace conference things might have worked out better for both sides. This is a lavish production, lit glamorously by the great Greg Toland with lots of moody sets build on the Goldwyn Formosa Street lot, and the usual collection of expatriated English and Irish character actors. The great Irish actor and Abbey Theater member, Dennis O'Dea, has a small part as one of the rebels. He was later to seen in a similar role in ODD MAN OUT. All-American Jerome Cowan, best remembered as a wise-cracking best friend or reporter, makes his screen appearance here wearing a cap cocked on his head as he uses an odd Irish accent.

"Lady Helen" (Merle Oberon) arrives in Dublin with her father "Lord Athleigh" (Henry Stephenson) who is charged with trying to bring peace to the increasingly unruly city. The night they arrive, an ambush is thwarted and that serves to introduce her to the dapper stranger "Dennis" (Brian Aherne) whom we soon find out is not quite what he appears. What now ensues is a rather unlikely romance between the two that culminates in a police chase, some high-level negotiations, betrayals galore and a bit of tragedy. There is a surprisingly strong supporting cast to this rather lacklustre historical drama. David Niven and Donald Crisp add a wee bit of depth to the story, but essentially this is just a far-fetched romance that uses the guise of the early Irish troubles as a conduit to allow Oberon to glow and for the fairly unremarkable Aherne to try to keep up. It's quite wordy and has too much score, but easily passes ninety minutes if you just want to let it wash over you and not get too hung up on the politics of the thing.