Richard Burton is a straitjacketed lunatic in an asylum run by doctor Peter Ustinov. He tells janitor Beau Bridges that if he gets Burton out, Burton will make him rich and strong. So Bridges does, and Burton does in this variation of the Faust story in which Southern trash Elizabeth Taylor plays the Helen of Troy role.
Burton is compelling at his stagiest in this role, and Miss Taylor is quite believable in hers. In fact, the entire cast, which includes Leon Ames, George Raft, and John Schuck, are all excellent. Yet there is something about this movie that doesn't mesh, something in its timing that is unconvincing.
Bridges gets Burton out, and boom! Bridges is the CEO of a pharmaceuticals company writing illiterate letters to buyers. Burton enters, tells him it's time to move on, and then we see Burton, Bridges, and Miss Taylor at the next stage of their ramblings. We know things have been going on in between, but we don't need to see them because they're irrelevant, but the abruptness, repeated again and again, is disconcerting. Yes, we'd have scene changes like that on the stage, but they would not be performed instantaneously, and we would feel that the short time was representative of the longer time; alternatively, the transformations are magical or demonic, but there is nothing to show that more than Burton's glowering.
At first the abruptness is disconcerting, then it is disturbing. Yet it is not disturbing in the manner of the Faust story. Faust is a figure of tragedy because he confuses knowledge for wisdom. Bridges is not wise. He's crude, cruel, almost actively stupid. The abruptness of the transitions is not telling because he is incapable of understanding them. There is no reason to feel sorry for him, and so the audience doesn't. So it is not a tragedy, it is simply an endless cycle of the self-destructiveness of stupidity. That's tiresome.
Burton is compelling at his stagiest in this role, and Miss Taylor is quite believable in hers. In fact, the entire cast, which includes Leon Ames, George Raft, and John Schuck, are all excellent. Yet there is something about this movie that doesn't mesh, something in its timing that is unconvincing.
Bridges gets Burton out, and boom! Bridges is the CEO of a pharmaceuticals company writing illiterate letters to buyers. Burton enters, tells him it's time to move on, and then we see Burton, Bridges, and Miss Taylor at the next stage of their ramblings. We know things have been going on in between, but we don't need to see them because they're irrelevant, but the abruptness, repeated again and again, is disconcerting. Yes, we'd have scene changes like that on the stage, but they would not be performed instantaneously, and we would feel that the short time was representative of the longer time; alternatively, the transformations are magical or demonic, but there is nothing to show that more than Burton's glowering.
At first the abruptness is disconcerting, then it is disturbing. Yet it is not disturbing in the manner of the Faust story. Faust is a figure of tragedy because he confuses knowledge for wisdom. Bridges is not wise. He's crude, cruel, almost actively stupid. The abruptness of the transitions is not telling because he is incapable of understanding them. There is no reason to feel sorry for him, and so the audience doesn't. So it is not a tragedy, it is simply an endless cycle of the self-destructiveness of stupidity. That's tiresome.