Something just didn’t feel right throughout the film. I felt shallow to blame this slight disappointment on technical qualities, which, although Huston’s professionalism ought seldom be challenged, had perhaps too simple sound design, poor acting, and lacked visual interest. So I found myself in search of a remedy to restore my usual excitement for this director I admired so much. It wasn’t easy, because I had been heavily influenced by the high standards of visual wisdom and narrative expertise of Huston’s more famous works, such as his film noir triumphs. So I tried not to nitpick too much, in order to dissect the film to its bare essential, key elements.

The story,  based on the novel by Hans Koningsberger, was charming, and the themes of youth, love, death, and social, dynastic conflict during the Hundred Years War, were insightful and intelligent, however, it was very modest in its execution. Now, this may usually be perceived as a positive quality for modern audiences. After all, it seems that nobody likes a ‘know it all’ or an overly intellectual storyteller – and I can understand why people may think this way, for cinema is a visual medium, where a single image can often say more than a whole page of dialogue. However, when it comes to John Huston, I can’t help but desire a voice from the ‘auteur’ – an inspiring message from the mouth of a cinema giant. So, perhaps it was merely my childhood love of ‘The Treasure of the Sierra Madre’, or ‘The Night of the Iguana’, which caused my expectations to backfire into anticlimax, where deep insight into human and social conditions are effortlessly embodied in these films.

If I could try to be objective for a moment, I would simply say, that the film was a bold attempt, but suffered from mediocre visual elements, and unconvincing performances, which included Mr. Huston’s daughter, Anjelica, as a 17 year old in her debut role. Although the Huston family have always fascinated me, with the likes of John’s father, Walter, who impressed me so, in roles such as the drunk doctor in Rene Clair’s ‘And Then There Were None’, I must admit, that I can’t hide my lack of interest in the arrival of Anjelica.

I can only assume that my feelings of disappointment come directly from being spoilt by so many great movies, where the likes of ‘The Seventh Seal’ (Ingmar Bergman) – which deals with a similar period of history – has more to say about the human condition, or ‘Barry Lyndon’ (Stanley Kubrick) – which also features many exterior landscape locations – made more spectacular achievements in cinematography (to say the least!). So I find myself questioning the role of the critic, who is only worth what he has made for himself, and if I may be so bold; I have made quite a decadently quilted cushion for myself to sit on in the screening room. This is also my round about way of avoiding being negative or dismissive, for I truly believe movies such as this deserve some acknowledgement, and although I rarely enjoy speaking ill of other people’s achievements, I am very capable of spitting venom if something truly disagrees with me, however, this mere dissatisfaction I felt from ‘A Walk with Love and Death’ isn’t even worth the effort to complain. I must add though, that if you acquire a copy of the BFI release of the DVD, it contains some very interesting extra features, including a short ‘making of’ documentary, where I was delighted to see the great John Huston at work. A particular scene of interest is when he bridges the gap between father and director, where he directs the clearly nervous and innocent Anjelica in a romantic love scene.

Did I enjoy the movie? Not as much as I would have liked to. Was it a good movie? I’ve seen much better. Would I recommend watching it? Certainly! We shouldn’t listen to any opinion other than that of our own. Besides, if you’re interested in cinema, you have to try out the less common releases from time to time. It would’ve been nice to write that this movie was a forgotten masterpiece, but sadly, I fear that it was a box office flop for just reasons.

Written by Danny Hahn

© 2011 NeoKitsch

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