Wednesday, January 27, 2021

THE WOMAN BETWEEN (Victor Shertzinger, 1931)

 

Another Oedipal Pre-Code odyssey as the prodigal son returns from roaming exotic Africa and unknowingly has an affair with his father’s new wife. Talk about an uncomfortable dinner party!

The scandalous plot becomes awful boorish rather quickly in the second act, as a cigarette case which could reveal the secret is forgotten and written out of the story while the young step-mother and her incestual romance is just too damn talky. The father is a wealthy businessman and his son the roguish upstart who ran away from home after the death of his mother. He objected to his father’s remarriage (what a douche-bag) in principle, never having met the woman. When he finally does decide to return home he meets a lonely lady and begins an affair: this lady turn out to be his step-mother. But it’s not as salacious as it seems as the principal characters are dull and flat. There is no trace of passion between the step-mother and the son; she mumbles her way through a terrible French accent and feigns regret and remorse by bad posture. The son comes awful close to being a creepy stalker. The father is the good guy who adores her but there is no spark of love from her steely half-lidded eyes though he tries valiantly. She has the mannerism of a mannequin which was her previous profession before starting her own successful clothing business. At least she is given an independence outside of marriage but the writers forgot to give her a personality.

A few melodramatic plot turns involving a younger sister and her childish but adorable best friend who crushes on the son (fuck if I know why) resolves when the father decides to tear up the letter that confesses everything. Seems ignorance is bliss for him, after all. And the son is alone on a slow boat back to Africa. This time I’m rooting for the Hippopotamus.

Final Grade: (D)