Garbo: Where Did You Go?

Disappointed. The Garbo mask scenes did nothing for this biography. They were distracting. The narrator was annoying. I'm not sure if she escaped from a mime college to exert her annoyingly stilted lines. I'm also not sure if her hair was supposed to be Garboesque. Made it through half the documentary then put the speed on 1.5. There isn't enough Garbo and there is too much of the mask and the mime. Garbo was alive when I was a kid. She'd show up in a news shot or film on occasion. So she didn't disappear. She out right stated she'd had it with Hollywood. Better to watch a film like Ninotchka to see how Garbo shone.

Garbo: Where Did You Go? Should have been titled Garbo: Where Did the Point Go?

This documentary somehow takes one of the most enigmatic stars of Hollywood's Golden Age and turns her into a dull, meandering mystery with no payoff. It spends nearly an hour trudging through her childhood and early life with barely any coverage of her actual years as a global icon. The decision to use a paper mâché mask on a stand-in Garbo (who looked more like the Jigsaw puppet than the Swedish Sphinx) was mind boggling. Even worse were the bizarre gum-chewing interludes from a blonde woman whispering like she was filming an ASMR video in a Brooklyn loft. When the film finally addresses her retirement in the last 20 minutes, it offers no real insight...just the same tired refrain that she didn't want to be famous anymore.

No notable talking heads, no revelatory commentary, and no reason to watch. After suffering for almost an hour, I fast-forwarded just to get to the part that was supposed to matter-and even that was a letdown. A true waste of time.

And no, this review doesn't contain spoilers. Greta Garbo died when I was a year and a half old. If that's a spoiler, I'd like to speak to your history teacher.

A few interesting facts and movie clips.

The documentary basically focused on everything we already know about Garbo and did little to delve into the deeper mystique of the woman and give us insight into the Garbo that was out of circulation for 50 years. Additionally, I found these things problematic:

-- The "voice of Greta" reading her letters sounded like a character out of Downton Abbey rather than a shy Swede.... totally misses that low husky sound.

-- There is a woman with a mask that keeps appearing in the film --- with the mask hiding her and then at times giving a glimpse of the real life. I suppose there is symbolism there with the real Garbo hiding from the public... but the mask is so creepy and so distracting, that I had to quit watching and just listen.

-- The actress billed as "the investigator" consistently interrupts at inopportune moments and is perhaps more distracting than the creepy mask.

Overall, not well-produced and a big let down. Don't invest the 90 minutes. You could tune into a TCM Garbo movie and hear a Ben Mankiewicz pre-film summary that would give you the same level of information (and you could actually watch him and not be creeped out).

The archival footage and the people who were interviewed and spoke about Garbo and her life were fantastic. However, the theatrics of the woman (presumably meant to be Garbo) wearing the freaky paper mache mask, were wildly unnecessary and frankly unpleasant. There were also a number of times where letters or quotes were read by the same voice but it was a conversation between two or more people. It was hard to follow who was supposed to be speaking. The Swedish "journalist" that tried to interview Garbo for decades was very unsettling, and it's never addressed. This man and his group essentially stalked her and then swooped in when she was elderly and vulnerable. The entirety of the documentary was based on the fact that she hated the attention that her fame attracted and yet this journalist man was almost part of the narrative.

Nothing on her lesbian crushes or relationships in NYC.

Her last unwitting film performance in Peter De Rome's artful gay porn movie, Adam and Yves in 1974 makes a brief apperance but no mention of the movie itself. Instead her NYC queer friends are presented as ultimatly disloyal and exploitative.

An apparent need to strighten the narrative seems unnecessary, resemebling the kind of closeted biography making that used to occur before the 1990s.

The director seemed unresolvedly torn between celebrating the cause celebe of an icon or revealing the person beneath and in the end the latter is side-stepped and compromised in favour of retaining an enigma. But for what ?