THAT FORSYTE WOMAN (1949)

M-G-M took unusual care on this literary prestige item, with darkly glamorous atmosphere and strong period detail. Even the ladies’ hairstyles aren’t a dead giveaway to 1949. Pared down to fit film conventions, the John Galsworthy storyline becomes a three-tiered tale of misdirected uppercrust romance with a tragic episode to straighten things out. It holds your attention, but under Compton Bennett’s too suave direction the film taxis down the runway without ever taking off. As chilly, entitled Soames Forsyte, a man who can purchase everything except the love of Greer Garson, the only woman he wants, Errol Flynn is the main reason to see the film, with a natural sympathy complicating our reactions. Walter Pidgeon, the artist/black sheep of the clan who also falls under Garson’s spell, should have been fine, but an off-putting dye job makes it a struggle. But it’s Robert Young, as a third suitor, drifting away from perky fiancée Janet Leigh to Garson (who’s fine here and certainly looks the part to a ‘T’), who really lets the side down. Too American, too pleasant, there’s no passion or danger to this modern outlier architect. See Montgomery Clift the same year in THE HEIRESS to get an idea of what’s missing. The film survives the missing leg of the stool, but just barely.

DOUBLE-BILL: As mentioned, William Wyler’s THE HEIRESS/’49, with Clift, Olivia de Havilland, Miriam Hopkins & Ralph Richardson, showing all too clearly what’s not here.