Désir sous les ormes

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.

I'm partial to any film in which Sophia Loren appears. And, I like the work of Eugene O'Neill, arguably America's finest playwright of the twentieth century.

So, it's a sad to admit that, although Burl Ives is superb as the irascible old father, and Sophia does her best – given that she'd only been part of the Hollywood scene for about a year – this rendition of the story of mad love is good, but not great.

The problem, in my opinion, is Tony Perkins: he's just not up to the task of playing opposite Sophia Loren, a more experienced performer (she'd already appeared in over thirty Italian movies before starring in Elms), and a lusty, fiery woman who just exudes sex appeal like it's the only thing to think about. In contrast, Perkins allows his distracted, tortured persona to intrude to the point of annoyance – for me; others might find him adequate to the role, however, as he first attempts to fob off the apparently unwelcome sexual innuendo of Loren, but then succumbs all too easily, I think, to her temptations.

Most of the story revolves around those three; the other main players, Pernell Roberts and Frank Overton as the two older step-brothers to Perkins, exit to California in the first act (and don't return until the third). Thereafter, the second act – the entrapment of Perkins in Loren's arms and their deepening romance about which the father knows naught – lays the groundwork for the inevitable tragedy to come. As the viewer, I found it interesting to speculate about the outcome as the third act started, especially after experiencing the excruciating suspense of an earlier Act II scene in the barn – a scene through which I actually stopped breathing, as I watched, fascinated...

But, what a third act it was from Burl Ives, as he danced and pranced around with much of the village folk, to celebrate the birth of his new son, provided by Loren, but fathered by...whom? Without a doubt, something's got to break, I thought.

As I continued to watch, I kept thinking: I've seen this before. But, this was my first viewing. Then it came to me: a story of two lovers, embroiled in dark, mad love and with mounting intent to murder has been done before – in 1867, Emile Zola wrote a book called Therese Raquin. In 1950, it was an American TV movie, followed in 1953 with a French version with Simone Signoret. I've read Zola's novel, but I can't vouch for the films. I could suggest, also, that The Postman Always Rings Twice (made many times, first in 1946) has a similar story and plot.

O'Neill's play, however, has an horrific twist – unlike any of the other stories. So, it's worth seeing for that alone. The bonus is watching Sophia Loren as a delectable temptress and Burl Ives as a pathological caricature of all that a good father should not be – a grand piece of acting by Ives, and more murderous than his performances in, say, Cat on a hot tin roof (1958) or The Big Country (1958). What a banner year for that great performer.

Being a stage play, the film version faithfully adheres to that format: small sets, obvious backdrops, deep shadows, very obvious multiple lighting – all that you'd expect, as if you were in a theater, front row center, and as it should be for all O'Neill's plays.

Get it out from your video store or library, see it and enjoy; but don't expect too much from Perkins.

Loren and Perkins smoke up the screen in this black and white, well-done love story. It is fascinating to see how quickly an all-American father and son can be weak for the same foreign woman. Sophia is wonderfully foreign, very talented in an early role. Anthony Perkins and she have surprisingly strong chemistry, the first kiss between them is one of the hottest kisses in the cinema. Burl Ives does an outstanding job as the miserly father who nabs himself a young pretty foreign wife. Sophia makes you believe she is married to Burl, she represents many a foreign wife who have married for economy. Anthony Perkins shocks you with his hatred and rivalry with his father.

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 ****

This movie was made primarily as a star vehicle and things like the artistic integrity of the plot were thought of as unimportant. Needless to say, the movie suffered noticeably.

I saw this movie originally as part of a course on plays made into movies. Though this wasn't the most badly manhandled of the plays that we studied, it is a close second to "Sexual Perversity in Chicago" which became "About Last Night" staring Rob Lowe and Demi Moore.

Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad movie, but it could have been great.

As much as I hate to say it, this is one of the rare cases where a remake might be in order. It is possible to imagine that a director willing to make a more faithful rendition could easily create something better than the original.