When running high fevers (or egos), studio bigwigs would contemplate the impossible task of making a coherent movie out of William Henry Hudson's ethereal novel about Rima, the mysterious, other-worldly 'bird girl' of the Venezuelan jungle. First problem: who the hell could play such a role....a nymph-like wild child who comes across as the spawn of Tarzan and Tinkerbell.....
MGM decided to take a crack at it in l959.....with the only major actress at the time whom audiences might conceivably believe as such a fantasy conception of womanhood.....Audrey Hepburn. On the down side, they turned direction of the film over to Hepburn's husband Mel Ferrer, never anything but a journeyman actor and certainly no great shakes as a director.....
A wifty movie like this cried out for some kind of flamboyant visualist at the helm, someone who'd stay in touch with the lighter-than-air source material (an Orson Welles, maybe)......but Ferrer's only talent here was making sure his wife looked stunningly beautiful. At least he got that part right.....
The rest of the movie remains.....just odd. Anthony Perkins, in usual confused nervous twitch mode, has just fled a late 19th century rebellion in Caracas in which his father was killed. Into the Guyana jungles he goes, looking for gold but stumbling on to Audrey, who climbs trees and mimics bird calls.....and generally radiates pure wistful Audrey-ness while maintaining perfect hair and makeup.
The movie offers a few scenic South American vistas.....but most of it transpires on a sprawling, well appointed MGM sound stage jungle......imagine a Rainforest Cafe with all the tables taken out. More nutty stuff follows: at one point, the film has Perkins warbling a title song like Elvis. Lee J.Cobb, outfitted like a grumpy skid row Santa Clause, wanders around as Hepburn's grandfather.....but he looks more like the grandfather Heidi was sent to live with. Supplying the villainy.....the always exotically malicious Henry Silva as a loin-cloth'd tribesman who's out to make Audrey an extinct jungle species.....
Perkins becomes predictably smitten with Audrey (who wouldn't?)....you can tell because he twitches a little less. The script remembers to follow the Golden Rule of all how-to-write-your-screenplay manuals......remember to chase your lead character up a tree. The books spoke figuratively in accentuating this rule, but the movie does this to Audrey literally, as she's besieged by torch-bearing natives who don't have her best interests at heart.....later on, Perkins and Silva take their death struggle into the idyllic MGM rainforest pond....they resemble two guys horsing around poolside at a Vegas spa.
Under Mel Ferrer's unsteady hand, "Green Mansions" emerged as an incomprehensible whatsit, premiering along side Radio City Music Hall's Easter show......the only place you could see Audrey's jungle girl followed by the Rockettes. It died an immediate death, forgotten by everyone except the hardy band of Audrey Hepburn completists.....of which the BQ is a proud member. Hence this post.... we wouldn't miss taking any steamy, dreamy oddball cruises with one of our faves...... 2 2 &1/2 stars (**1/2) Not quite Tiffany's.....and you have to watch where you step.....
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