Camille
With a fine script, decent co-stars and sensitive direction, this fancy-dress production of the sad story of The Lady of the Camélias can boast Greta Garbo’s most accomplished romantic performance. The relative inexperience of young co-star Robert Taylor is actually a plus — it makes sense for Marguerite Gautier to be carried off in rapture by the impossibly handsome, gracious young man. Second acting honors go to Henry Daniell — his Baron de Varville really enjoys being a knave. The finale may be an improvement on the original — Garbo’s exit scene rates as one of the top tearjerkers in Hollywood history. A 1921 silent version is added as an extra, starring Alla Nazimova and Rudolph Valentino.
Camille
Blu-ray
Warner Archive Collection
1936 / B&W / 1:37 Academy / 109 min. / Available at MovieZyng / Street Date March 7, 2023 / 21.99
Starring: Greta Garbo, Robert Taylor, Lionel Barrymore, Elizabeth Allan, Jessie Ralph, Henry Daniell, Lenore Ulric, Laura Hope Crews, Rex O’Malley, Phyllis Barry, E.E. Clive, Elspeth Dudgeon, Russell Hardie, Joan Leslie, Frank Reicher, Douglas Walton.
Cinematography: William Daniels, Karl Freund
Art Directors: Cedric Gibbons, Fredric Hope, Edwin B. Willis
Set Decorators: Jack D. Moore, Henry Grace
Costume Designer: Adrian
Film Editor: Margaret Booth
Original Music: Herbert Stothart
Written by Zoe Akins, Frances Marion, James Hilton from the novel and play by Alexandre Dumas fils
Associate Producer David Lewis
Produced by Irving Thalberg (uncredited)
Directed by George Cukor
This reviewer isn’t normally keen on MGM’s glamorous ‘golden age’ MGM costume pictures, or indeed a lot of their glossy high-toned ’30s output. But they did do their share of terrific work, some of which doesn’t entirely succumb to the prejudices of Depression-Era politics: Mutiny on the Bounty, A Tale of Two Cities. The studio valued Greta Garbo as its most prestigious performer, a legend in her own time, whose work was held up as the pinnacle of screen art. Garbo was amazing, but not all of the pictures MGM concocted for her. 1936’s Camille is a period drama with classical roots. In terms of pure acting it can boast her most accomplished romantic performance.
Can such a traditional show appeal to 2023 audiences? I would hope so, even as I realize that today’s non-film fan young people likely don’t really know who Greta Garbo was, or Cary Grant or maybe even Charlie Chaplin. Therefore we shall just sing the praises of worthy show, and assume that somebody cares somewhere.
There’s no denying that Camille is superior entertainment. Director Cukor worked closely with Ms. Garbo, who was in some ways the best judge of her own work. The result of their collaboration is impressive. Alexandre Dumas fils’ novel La Dame aux camélias comes from 1848; it became a play in 1852 and then the Verdi opera La traviata in 1853. It’s the template for the doomed love that crosses class and moral boundaries. It’s said to have been autobiographical — Dumas loved a courtesan who suffered from consumption (tuberculosis), although the term was apparently often used as a euphemism for syphillis. The book’s title character is conceived as a near-faultless romantic angel.
Marguerite Gautier (Greta Garbo) is a special member of Paris nightlife’s demimonde on the edge of respectability. A coterie of friends and rivals revolves around her adventures. She’s also always deep in debt; instead of hoarding her admirers’ extravant gifts, she’s unusually generous with her friends. Her unstable health may account for this — she isn’t expecting to live a long and prosperous life. Party friend Prudence (Laura Hope Crews) sets her up with a wealthy benefactor, the Baron de Varville (Henry Daniell), but Marguerite mistakenly mistakes young Armand Duval (Robert Taylor) for the Baron. She becomes the kept mistress of de Varville while Armand tries to pursue a romance as well. Her extravant night life takes a serious toll on her health.
Marguerite tries to shield the relatively innocent Armand from her less reputable associates. They spend part of a summer together in the country, hidden from everyone, especially the Baron. The protective Monsieur Duval (Lionel Barrymore) entreats Marguerite to break off her relationship with his son, which she does, returning to her unhealthy lifestyle in Paris. Armand does not realize that she’s looking out for his best interests.
Invested with MGM’s grand production values — gowns to kill for, beautiful interiors augmented by flawless matte paintings, a beautiful musical theme by Herbert Stothart — George Cukor’s Camille is the original, real-deal romantic weepie tragedy. It’s sincere and open-hearted, even if Dumas’ basic story requires poor virtuous Armand to be kept mostly in the dark. Some misunderstandings can’t be avoided, as when Marguerite locks a gate against Armand to protect him from the wrath of the Baron, who has returned unexpectedly.
The Baron / Armand rivalry is actually downplayed — they fight a duel, but it is mostly off screen, with the attention given to Marguerite’s race to try to stop it. Is this an original use of what became a stock scene in stories of this kind, like the film adaptation of Forever Amber?
Circling the Drain in Diamonds and Pearls.
Camille / Garbo’s perfectly realized descent into a glamorous death spiral is 100% classic, possibly the key weepie exemplar of Doomed Romance in Hollywood’s golden era. In other versions Marguerite often perishes alone, forced to settle for bittersweet memories of her fleeting affair with Armand. Once again, the star-crossed lovers don’t get their messages through. Garbo’s Marguerite is almost too weak to summon her great love — just as he gets the idea of breaking his promise and showing up unannounced, like a miracle.
The great Garbo was for the longest time an unassailable Hollywood icon. Her image was never tarnished — she’s the classiest of screen sirens and the most riveting actress of her day. William Daniels’ cinematography worships Garbo, and the gowns in this movie are some of the best ever, but this Marguerite Gautier is a spirited, vibrant woman, not a figure of mystique created by mood lighting. It’s a creation of Garbo’s special personality.
Critic Pauline Kael thought Camille displayed Garbo’s best acting, but the critic was quick to denigrate some of her co-stars, calling Robert Taylor insipid and Lionel Barrymore an annoying ham. We partly agree with the Barrymore opinion, but young Robert Taylor delivers exactly the fresh-faced candor that was needed. Marguerite can love the inexperienced Armand even knowing that she must protect him. That’s the bittersweet angle to the tragedy — the ‘notorious’ woman is actually an open-hearted angel, to her friends and her lovers. She even understands the coldly severe Baron — in one of the liveliest scenes, he plays the piano while they laugh together at the absurdity of everything.
We suppose that a Carol Burnett movie spoof of Camille would generate laughs by stretching Marguerite’s final ‘lingering’ scene out to an absurd length. Cukor, Garbo and cameraman Daniels manage it beautifully, focusing on Garbo’s every gesture. The romantic fantasy is finely judged — the lovers share a privileged moment, without Armand fully aware of what’s happening. The scene goes forward in stages, with just a few coughs and a swoon or two. Forget realism, as the glamour angle rules out Marguerite choking or spitting up blood. Nope, she instead luxuriates in a kind of ‘suffering bliss,’ and a sudden flash of eyes to mark the moment of passing. It’s an idealized romantic death.
Garbo was only three pictures away from retirement, and two pictures away from her most accessible vehicle Ninotchka. That supremely witty political satire proves she could have gone forward as an actress had she wanted to. She surely realized that her studio bosses didn’t really know how to best harness her talents — what foolish MGM executive thought that she’d do well in the vapid screwball comedy Two-Faced Woman?
The Warner Archive Collection Blu-ray of Camille has been restored from various sources, with a digital restoration that brings it back to the glossy beauty of the nitrate print we saw screened at UCLA in the early 1970s. We think there must have been a major B&W film stock upgrade sometime between 1934 and 1936, as the studio prints we saw from ’36 forward had less grain and a more velvety appearance overall.
The audio is much improved over the earlier DVD of Camille. That delicate main theme (adapted by Herbert Stothart from Verdi) is nicely interwoven into the film’s texture.
As with most Warner Archive Blu-rays, the extras of older DVD releases are repeated, most likely to avoid the cost of a legal review. This release contains an entire standard-definition transfer of the 1921 Camille, produced by and starring Alla Nazimova, she of the wild wigs and extreme costumes. Her co-star is none other than Rudolph Valentino. The story’s the same, just updated to modern dress, with flapper fashions and production design by Nazimova’s collaborator Natasha Rambova. The artsy sets tend toward circular doorways and decorations. It’s a not-bad version of the story, with stylized performances and an ending in which does not reunite Armand and Marguerite in person.
Also present is a reissue trailer stressing MGM glory, and a 14-minute radio promo touting the studio’s 1936 output, with feature audio bites.
Reviewed by Glenn Erickson
Camille
Blu-ray rates:
Movie: Excellent
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Supplements: 1921 silent feature version; radio promo, reissue trailer.
Deaf and Hearing-impaired Friendly? YES; Subtitles: English (feature only)
Packaging: One Blu-ray in Keep case
Reviewed: June 1, 2023
(6936cami)
Final product for this review was provided free by The Warner Archive Collection.
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