The Night of the Iguana (1964, John Huston)
Unsurprisingly, I’ve never read or in any other way experienced the original stage play by Tennessee Williams, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
I was unimpressed with the structure of this movie. The actual “night” referred to in the title is impressive enough; it’s when some of the characters really come into their own. Everything leading up to it though, not so much. The first two-thirds are meandering, incoherent, and rambling. We never really get a good sense of any of the characters.
The scenery and especially the cinematography is a thing to behold, and the movie was indeed Oscar-nominated in the categories of Art Direction and Cinematography. Still, I can’t help but feel that in this case, less would be more. Less contrivances, less talk, less meaninglessness. I mean, shouldn’t there be a point to all this?
As usual, I feel obliged to mention the acting. Richard Burton is suitable as the drunkard reverend, but he didn’t really connect with me. Sue Lyon does nothing but look pretty and act sexually precocious — signs of a true lolita. Deborah Kerr does her job, but little else. The real scene-stealers here though are the, dare I say it, older women (although they were both just 42 years old at the time) Ava Gardner and Grayson Hall. All their scenes sizzle, and they have what some might refer to as spunk, or perhaps gumption.
That all said, I still recommend this movie. See for yourself.
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