A Dama das Camélias

The luminous Greta Garbo in one of her best remembered roles. In this she is the tragic heroine who is dabbling with fate with Robert Taylor (who seems to be wearing more make-up than Greta!) while moving towards the inevitable weepie conclusion.

Certainly Garbo was best in these kind of other-worldly roles, in another place and time, than she was in the few contemporary features she attempted. Not a great actress, but a beautiful woman and a true star who the camera clearly loved. Taylor would move out of romances and musicals into more typically heroic roles by the end of the 1930s, but he's a good romantic lead here.

And I mustn't forget the pleasure of seeing Henry Daniell, one of Hollywood's greatest villains.

Filmed with the commonplace MGM gloss of the time, ‘Camille' delivers on all levels - if you're looking for an escapist, teary, film with lots of close-ups and a nice slow pace. It belongs square in that first decade of the talkies and this sort of thing fell out of fashion after the Second World War.

Most Greta Garbo fans rank this as her finest work--and it probably is. Not only is she highly competent in the title role, but the supporting cast shines just as brightly--everyone from Laura Hope Crewes to Henry Daniell to Lionel Barrymore. And Robert Taylor is the ideal romantic hero at the peak of his darkly handsome good looks. He and Garbo make a wonderful pair.

George Cukor's direction is full of richly observed details of behavior, never flinching from the occasional coarseness of the characters. All of the technical work is above reproach and those familiar with the story of the Lady of the Camelias will not be disappointed. Lionel Barrymore makes a brief but effective appearance midway through the film. His scene with Garbo is delicately played and gives added credence to Garbo's nobility in letting her lover go.

Biggest drawback is the film's pace--some editing may have helped--but the final result is still impressive.

This film further proves that the assembly-line system of Hollywood studios back then should also be taken seriously in terms of artistry. Just because movies were produced run-of-the-mill doesn't mean that they weren't paid critical attention to by their makers. The usual impression on studio-era Hollywood is: take a formulaic narrative style, maybe adapt a stage play for the screen, blend in a handful of stars from the stable and the films rake in the profit at the box office. Not quite, that's the easy perception. George Cukor, another of those versatile directors, made it apparent with Camille that filmmaking as an art may still flourish despite (and even within) certain parameters. Camille is beautiful, in so many respects. And it's not just because of Greta Garbo.

Sure, the acting is amazing, the casting is perfect. Garbo is luminous, mysterious, cruel, and weak at the same time. Robert Taylor surrenders himself to be the heartbreakingly young and vulnerable Armand. Henry Daniell's coldness and sadism is utterly human and familiar. The others are just plain wonderful. The writing contains so much wit and humor, devotion and pain - but it never overstates anything. The rapport and tensions between lovers, friends, and enemies are palpable and consistent. The actions flow so naturally, just like every scene, that checking for historical inconsistencies seem far beside the point.

There is so much that I love about Camille that it's hard to enumerate them all, but with every little discovery comes the realization that this is "but" a studio production, so it makes the experience more exquisite. Camille is a gentle, poignant romantic movie that, like Garbo, takes its place delicately and self-effacingly in the history of American cinema, but makes itself indelible in the heart and mind of the lovelorn individual viewer.

Maybe it helps to be a romantic. But for my money, this is the greatest romance that was ever put on film. It has the perfect stars. Greta Garbo was the star of the age--any age--still beautiful and absolutely created to act in films. Even in silent films, her acting is measured and understated. She never falls prey to exaggeration nor pretense. I think that is the secret to her effectiveness. Allow me an example: after accepting money from Baron de Varville for a disguised outing with her lover Armand (which the Baron already suspects), she kisses him gently on the cheek only to be reviled with a harsh slap from the baron, who then departs. The camera moves in on that incomparable face. The head slowly lowers, the lips slightly part, a low moan expresses the guilt, shame and humiliation which momentarily consume her. Then she spies the money clutched tightly in her hand. Recognizing she now has the means to escape with her lover, a slight smile emerges reflecting her change of mood and restored joy. It is a scene like no other.

As for her co-star, Robert Taylor was castigated as being too callow for the role. In fact, most critics today realize he was exactly what Dumas intended: young, impressionable--and certainly irresistibly gorgeous in his dewy youth. That beauty often caused the young Taylor undeserved venom from the critics. He was a very capable actor and probably set the standard for the contemporary romantic leading man we see even today. Rumors that Garbo dismissed him as unimportant are not true. She liked him very much and was greatly impressed after he sent her mother flowers when they all attended the premiere of CAMILLE in Stockholm.

CAMILLE? A great movie with a great cast, including the marvelous Henry Daniell, whose Baron de Varville is very Jekyll and Hyde. I encourage anyone to see it. It is one of the finest films of the 20th Century.

I noted that between the play and the opera La Traviata which is adopted from Camille, there are well over a dozen filmed versions around from all parts of the globe. Still this exquisite film from Metro-Goldwyn- Mayer with its brightest star stands as the best and best known.

Through a misinterpreted glance and a smile, society courtesan Marguerite Gauthier and young Armand Duval meet at the Paris Opera. Marguerite meant to get the attentions of the imperious Baron DeVarville, but got Armand's instead.

With the revival of tuberculosis as a byproduct of the AIDS virus, today's audiences have some idea of the death sentence that Marguerite was under. She's chosen to live for the present without care or worry for tomorrow and tomorrow's bills. Impetuous young Armand thinks he has found the love of his life and so does Marguerite, but she realizes at a certain level always that it is too late.

The characters as realized by Greta Garbo and Robert Taylor will stay indelibly with you long after viewing Camille. Garbo said the role was a favorite of her's. Her performance in her voice, her body, and face capture the zest for all the immediate living she has to do.

Robert Taylor was quoted as saying that he bettered himself as an actor by just being around Garbo, that one couldn't help doing that. As Armand he made such an impression in his period clothes and his romantic lines that he became probably the number one movie heart throb in the nation.

George Cukor directed this and said of Taylor that usually the role of Armand is played by middle-aged men who look ridiculous saying those same lines. Taylor represented callow romantic youth of the 19th century and the dialog rings true when he says it. Cukor and Taylor worked again together, but future teamings were less classical than this.

Camille also helped launch the career of British actor Henry Daniell in films as one imperious and snarling villain. The man with the built in disdain in his voice, Henry Daniell essayed so many roles as a bad guy his mere appearance on the screen told you who was the villain. DeVarville, cold, haughty, and imperious was THE Daniell part and set a high standard for Daniell that he met many times in his career.

Two other players in this you will enjoy, Jessie Ralph as Marguerite's maid Nanine and Laura Hope Crews as the world's oldest courtesan. Crews is best remembered as Aunt Pity Pat Hamilton in Gone With the Wind and in Camille it's as if Aunt Pity Pat decided to open a bordello, a chic one for the upper classes to be sure.