CAMILLE (1936)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Romance

Director: George Cukor

Cast: Greta Garbo / Robert Taylor / Henry Daniell

Plot

Famous for her spendthrift ways and carefree living, Parisian courtesan Marguerite falls for a penniless young man, who also falls deeply in love with her.  However, society, expectations, jealousy, and family threaten to come between them.

What I Liked

Greta Garbo.  Without her, this movie ain’t much.  Her portrayal of the outwardly carefree but inwardly tortured Marguerite is well-rounded and benefits considerably from her distinctively European charisma.  In the beginning we only get to know Marguerite on the surface; she is materialistic, easily bored, and loves to be the center of attention.  And, like her, the film is at first a standard Paris period piece.   However, as we and her love interest, the tragically earnest Armand, get to know her better we learn that the real Marguerite is secretly ill, lonely, and frustratingly unknowable.  It is that inability to break through her well-constructed public persona and get to her true heart that tortures poor Armand and fascinates the audience, letting “Camille” stand out among the many drawing-room dramas that flooded cinemas in the 1930s.

What I Didn’t Like

Most of the movie is concerned with Armand’s dogged pursuit of Marguerite’s love, which she constantly professes and then refuses in a cycle through the entire story.  For me, this got old quick and, not being a devoted fan of period romance to begin with, I found my attention more than wavering.  Just because Armand is hopelessly enthralled by Marguerite, doesn’t mean I am necessarily enthralled by the movie.  Once I got over the seductive mysteriousness of Garbo’s Marguerite, I found there was little else to make me want to watch.

Most Memorable Scene

We first see the darker side of Marguerite when she retreats unnoticed from one of her dinner parties in a coughing fit, secluding herself in her room.  Of course Armand is the only guest to even realize she’s gone and follows her in to the unlit bedroom where she stares into a mirror alone, trying to catch her breath.  “You’re killing yourself,” he tells her bluntly.  To which she replies, “And you seem to be the only one who objects.”  It’s a heartbreaking little piece of dialogue that sums up everything tragic about her character.  Surrounded by reveling leaches, Marguerite is never alone but always lonely.

My Rating: 2.5 out of 5