A Flor Que Não Morreu

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.

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.

Tony Perkins in tight pants, wrestling Henry Silva in loin cloth, in lagoon, for love of jungle princess Audrey Hepburn. Yep, that's about it. Tony and Audrey are supposed to be around 19 and 16 respectively, even though he's really 26 and she's pushing 30. Which is almost OK, since everything is so gauzy.

The story is silly and the production cheesy, and it all comes out like made-for-TV, which is a kind-of compliment, since it was released in 1959, which makes it ahead of its time, though, given the quality of made-for-TV, and that people had to buy a ticket to see this thing, that's not much consolation.

It's lush and ripe, and though they claim it's filmed in South America, I can see the familiar landscapes of the backlot and the flora and fauna of the San Diego Zoo. This one is borderline MST3000, so the best way to watch it is stoned.

This must surely be the strangest movie that Audrey Hepburn made, though it's not without its virtues. Directed by her-then husband, actor Mel Ferrer, the 1959 movie is a fanciful adventure story where Hepburn plays Rima, a nymph-like "bird girl" living in the remotest part of the Venezuelan jungle. She is being hunted by the local Indian tribesmen for being an evil spirit, but she is protected first by her grandfather Nuflo and then by Abel, a young political refugee whom she rescues after he is bitten by a deadly coral snake. The slowly-paced story initially focuses on Abel's hazardous journey into the jungle with Joseph Ruttenberg's cinematography nicely capturing the authentic Amazon locations.

Rima shows up as a shadowy figure about a half-hour into the film and doesn't speak until about ten minutes later. Leave it to Hepburn to exhibit any sort of conviction in such an impossible role. Looking ethereal if a little too styled and coiffed (even without Givenchy) and sounding entirely too Euro-cosmopolitan, she still exudes Rima's innocence while discovering the darker secrets of her past. The rest of the cast is not as lucky. Anthony Perkins, a year away from "Psycho", is irritatingly unctuous as Abel when he is not simply confounded by his heroic role. His low point has to be the ridiculous scene when he sings a love song to Rima as he strums his guitar. And where exactly did the guitar come from? Familiar character actors show up in the oddest roles. Lee J. Cobb, heavily made up as a cross between Uncle Jesse Duke and Santa Claus, turns in yet another ham-fisted performance as Nuflo, and Henry Silva is cast as another exotic as the ultimately nefarious tribal leader. Nehemiah Persoff has a small bit at the beginning as a greedy trader, while Sessue Hayakawa, of all people, has a mostly silent role as the tribal leader. Adding to the artifice is the obvious use of soundstages and matte shots to replicate the jungle, and the ending is pure Hollywood sappiness. This is a curio for Hepburn fans.

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.