I had a bit of hard time sticking with this movie to the end. I don't normally force myself to watch movies that are lugubrious, but I was curious on several fronts. Firstly, this movie has been out of release, and only recently available through Warner Archives/ Classic Flix, so I'm one of those completists curious to see it. I find as time goes by, that the artifice of the MGM glossy films circa 1940 to 1945 done in this exact high-style - lavish sets and costumes, arch dialogue, drawing-room sensibilities - are hard to take - and I'm someone who is forgiving of, and loves, old movies! I'm fascinated by the MGM pix of this period because of how many are quite bad - and while "Metro" was riding the wave of its success, these films were the beginning of their undoing, as well. This was generally a really bad period for Joan Crawford, as we all know, saddled with mostly bad material, and hampered by her aspiration to be "a great lady of cinema" a la Norma Shearer. Her personal upward mobility from humble roots tainted her work, because she had a personal need to assume the drawing- room enunciation and lady-of-the-manor mannerisms, both of which are so phony in this film - and a blatant contradiction to her natural street-smart roots. I find Joan painfully bad in this movie - so needing to be who she's not. As I watched, I ached for her to shake off her personal psychodrama, as she would 4 years later when she was pushed to authenticity with Mildred Pierce - probably the first time on-camera that there was real grit and edge in her performance, that something was scraped away and you could feel her rawness. The catalyst, for the breakthrough, as we know, was that her artistic and professional career were in jeopardy. As for Greer Garson, her natural charisma, grace and screen presence are quite astonishing - she just draws your eye, and radiates. It's so easy to see why she became a star so quickly, and why audiences (and Louis B. Mayer) loved her. Not the best actress, but very natural in front of a camera, and luminous. I am in conflict with other writers here about Herbert Marshall, who I have always been attracted to for his otherworldly calm and inner sense of goodness. I can see the attraction, even though he isn't overtly dazzling, like Robert Taylor. I find Taylor, like Crawford, is a "movie star" more than actor, and you see him trying to rise to the occasion here in a persona and style of acting that is not in sync with who he is. As I watched, I speculated that this role might have been written for Clark Gable circa 1941 - mischievous, winking, self-aware, dashing, irrascible - but Taylor's performance was forced, a carbon copy of Gable or Robert Montgomery, or even Ray Milland (though he was actually better than I would have expected.) I also found Spring Byington a copy of Alice Brady and Billie Burke - not bad, but a bit forced, like Robert Taylor and Joan Crawford. In fact, I could imagine this script written for Gable, Claudette Colbert and other stars - but they cast who was available. As for the costumes, they weren't as over the top as some MGM films, but, as someone else commented, that ludicrous gardening outfit that Joan Crawford wears - an enormous picture hat, a padded-shoulder dress with gingham inserts that carries through to a matching gingham trim on the hat, and the same fabrics on the elbow- length gardening gloves - is fabulously preposterous, and an embodiment of the total disconnect from reality that infuses this movie. As for the plot, it's dated drawing-room fare with a single mise-en-scene that worked for me -- when the two "ladies" finally realize their respective identities. There was genuine tension and emotion, and a certain authenticity in tone and feelings. Other than that, MGM cake frosting.
Review of When Ladies Meet
