27 August 2023

Review #23 THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS (1954, Richard Brooks)

 

The Last Time I Saw Paris

* * 

An American journalist settles down with a beautiful woman in mid-20th Century Paris, but not all is gay in Paree.

Starring  Van Johnson, Elizabeth Taylor, Walter Pidgeon, Donna Reed, Roger Moore

Written by  Julius J Epstein, Philip G Epstein, Richard Brooks   

Produced by  Jack Cummings

Duration  116 minutes   





According to Amazon Prime, theirs is the ‘unedited original version’ of THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS. OK, so what’s the difference? The internet yielded no answers, so I’m left speculating. 

Was there once a clamouring to see the director’s definitive version, like with BLADE RUNNER or NIGHTBREED? If so, why was it held back from us and how has it changed?

Or, is it like how my DVD of THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972) declares that it is ‘uncut for the first time in the UK?’ But what exactly could have been so scandalous in a movie from 1954 that it had to be sliced out? Was there too much of Elizabeth Taylor’s ankle shown, enough that Richard Burton burst into the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer lot in a drunken rage and demanded that all the offending footage be burned, and only after his death in 1984 (right after making 1984) did prints with those two inches of white flesh restored see the light of day?

The mystery rages on, but judging by the terrible quality of the Prime version, I’m deducing the subtitle to mean that it’s from some kind of original print. This may get cinema historians’ knickers twisted up into a pretzel, but my reaction was that I hadn’t seen such poor quality since the video nasty-era of dodgy copied VHSs. Obviously this movie is nothing like I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE or THE DRILLER KILLER – however, I will admit that, by the end, I was almost hoping for Abel Ferrara to leap out and put me out of my misery by going nuts on the cast with a raging Black & Decker.

Yes, having now sat through the thing, I can’t for the life of me see why any version of THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS would warrant celebrating.


Van Johnson, Donna Reed and Elizabeth Taylor in The Last Time I Saw Paris


It’s based on material by F Scott Fitzgerald, which is encouraging, or rather it was before I watched the movie. Beyond the novels like The Great Gatsby (good), Tender is the Night (bad) and The Last Tycoon (unfinished), Fitzgerald also churned out loads of short stories.

Those bite-sized fictions were dismissed by critics as cash-grabs rather than having any artistic merit, but I very much enjoyed his ones set in Hollywood. They revolve around down-and-out alcoholic screenwriter Pat Hobby, once known as ‘a good man for structure’, now reduced to hanging around the studio lot like a discarded piece of a long-forgotten set dressing. Check them out! 

Anyway, it’s one of Fitzgerald’s other 150-odd short stories that THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS is based on. The story has American journalist Van Johnson feeling driven to stay on in Paris as WWII comes to a close (in Europe, at least) when he gets caught between the lanes of Donna Reed (wowzer) and her sister, Liz Taylor (double wowzer). What a dilemma – it’s kind of like the arduous bind Rene Zelweger faces in BRIDGET JONES’S DIARY: how to choose between dashing, suave, rich Hugh Grant or suave, dashing Colin Firth, who also isn’t short of a few quid.

So, Van swerves his way around his first world problems in post-Second World War France. One really feels for his plight, as he endures hardships like Liz snuggling up to him on a bench at dawn beside the Seine and whispering to him, ‘I like the way you kiss me.’

After meandering around for ages in search of some conflict, the movie takes a sudden dive into heavy-handed melodrama. We skim through the years at quite a clip, with a succession of failed novels leading wannabe-writer Van to the bottle, which fuels his resentment for his effervescent wife as he inexplicably steers himself away from one of the most desirable women who ever lived.


Van Johnson and Elizabeth Taylor in The Last Time I Saw Paris


Then, before Van can give his head the MOT it sorely needs, his suspension gets truly fucked when the neglected Liz starts fooling around with a baby-faced Roger Moore, playing a dashing young tennis pro. And then, she only goes and dies of pneumonia, in an incident that’s pretty much Van the Man's fault, sending him into the head-on collision of a custody battle for their daughter against her aunt – who, you'll recall, our lunkheaded hero part-exchanged back when it looked like this movie might actually have some decent mileage.

THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS is the answer to the question, ‘What if CASABLANCA had been two hours of Rick and Ilsa's French flashbacks, except they got married and ended up being miserable?’ Not something I think anyone's ever pondered.

It’s exhausting stuff, and I’m left with only enough energy to plead that the next time Hollywood decides to adapt Fitzgerald, instead of another tepid tale like this or taking a stab at Gatsby yet again, we get something a bit more light-hearted. So how about that Complete Adventures of Pat Hobby then, eh? Ah, go on!

Two stars out of five.


Valid use of the word ‘last’?  By the end of the movie, Van has his daughter back in the passenger seat and is adamant that they will take the exit ramp away from France for good and motor off to a new life back in America.

What would a movie called THE FIRST TIME I SAW PARIS be about? 
For me, it was circa 2000 on a school trip; Disneyland Paris, too. What a time.


Previously:  THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT

Next time: 
LAST KNIGHTS


Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com


No comments:

Post a Comment