Anthony Asquith's The V.I.P.’s (1963) was MGM's big splashy attempt to resurrect the ensemble successes they had had in the 1930s with films lie Grand Hotel (1932) and Dinner At Eight 1933) – recast and reset in London's Heath Row posh V.I.P lounge. The film is also a rather shameless stab to capitalize on the illicit love affair between two of Hollywood’s biggest stars – Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton - then the darlings of all the tabloids.
Taylor and Burton are cast as married couple Frances and Paul Andros. He’s a successful industrialist who is in love with his wife – she’s a rather flighty gal exploring dalliances with playboy, Marc Champselle (Louis Jourdan); an intercontinental ladies man. After bestowing yet another lavish gift of jewelry on his wife, Paul leaves Frances at the airport, quite unaware that she has left him a note back home explaining she will not be returning to him from her ‘vacation.’
It all seems so clever - if unexpectedly cold. By the time Paul gets home Frances plane will be in the air, leaving Paul without an immediate recourse to pursue her. Unfortunately for the lovers, a dense fog has indefinitely grounded all planes flying out of Heath Row. Paul lovingly says his goodbye, goes home, reads the note, then returns to the airport. His first thought is to avenge his betrayal by shooting his wife and her lover in a jealous rage. But Paul isn't the murderous kind.
Plan B is to try and buy off Champselle. But money doesn't seem to be the motive for this affair. Plan C? Paul decides to drown his sorrows in drink. Good plan. For Paul's pathetic self pity brings out the mother instinct in Frances who suddenly realizes she actually does love her husband after all…go figure.
In the meantime, tractor manufacturer Les Mangrum (Rod Taylor) and his dutiful secretary Miss Mead (Maggie Smith) are also occupying space in the VIP lounge and patiently waiting for the fog to lift so that he can solidify a deal in New York. Unfortunately, all appears to be lost when a key stock holder sells Les out. While Mangrum is hold up in his hotel suite with a ditzy blonde plaything, Miss Mead digs in her heels – orchestrating a hostile corporate takeover by appealing to Paul Andros to loan her boss the money he needs to re-launch his company.
In another corner is Max Buda (Orson Welles) and Miriam Marshall (Linda Christian). He’s a British film actor/producer who is planning to evade paying taxes. She’s a gold digger actress of spurious talent, destined to become his wife and partner in crime. Finally, there’s Margaret Rutherford, in her Oscar-winning role as The Duchess of Brighton. She has absolutely nothing to do with the plot but appears here and there as comic relief – the last of a dying breed of British aristocracy.
Director Anthony Asquith does his best to balance these soap opera dramatics but the whole darn mess falls apart about midway through. The Frances/Paul/Marc love triangle is supposed to be the focus of our tale. But it is repeatedly interrupted by the Les/Mead financial woes and further diluted by the comic dithering of both the Buda/Marshall scandal and by the antics of the blithering duchess who can’t seem to find her passport, her hotel room or anything else for that matter.
Warner Home Video’s DVD transfer is a tad thick. Colors tend to be muddy, faded and inconsistently balanced. Black levels are too intense during certain scenes, causing a general lack of fine details throughout the presentation. There is a generally dull, flat and grainy characteristic to the visual elements. Flesh tones are very unnatural – either appearing garishly orange or grossly pink. There’s really not much to recommend the visual presentation which is one of the poorest of this vintage this reviewer has seen. The audio is mono and quite dull also. There are no extras.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
0
Taylor and Burton are cast as married couple Frances and Paul Andros. He’s a successful industrialist who is in love with his wife – she’s a rather flighty gal exploring dalliances with playboy, Marc Champselle (Louis Jourdan); an intercontinental ladies man. After bestowing yet another lavish gift of jewelry on his wife, Paul leaves Frances at the airport, quite unaware that she has left him a note back home explaining she will not be returning to him from her ‘vacation.’
It all seems so clever - if unexpectedly cold. By the time Paul gets home Frances plane will be in the air, leaving Paul without an immediate recourse to pursue her. Unfortunately for the lovers, a dense fog has indefinitely grounded all planes flying out of Heath Row. Paul lovingly says his goodbye, goes home, reads the note, then returns to the airport. His first thought is to avenge his betrayal by shooting his wife and her lover in a jealous rage. But Paul isn't the murderous kind.
Plan B is to try and buy off Champselle. But money doesn't seem to be the motive for this affair. Plan C? Paul decides to drown his sorrows in drink. Good plan. For Paul's pathetic self pity brings out the mother instinct in Frances who suddenly realizes she actually does love her husband after all…go figure.
In the meantime, tractor manufacturer Les Mangrum (Rod Taylor) and his dutiful secretary Miss Mead (Maggie Smith) are also occupying space in the VIP lounge and patiently waiting for the fog to lift so that he can solidify a deal in New York. Unfortunately, all appears to be lost when a key stock holder sells Les out. While Mangrum is hold up in his hotel suite with a ditzy blonde plaything, Miss Mead digs in her heels – orchestrating a hostile corporate takeover by appealing to Paul Andros to loan her boss the money he needs to re-launch his company.
In another corner is Max Buda (Orson Welles) and Miriam Marshall (Linda Christian). He’s a British film actor/producer who is planning to evade paying taxes. She’s a gold digger actress of spurious talent, destined to become his wife and partner in crime. Finally, there’s Margaret Rutherford, in her Oscar-winning role as The Duchess of Brighton. She has absolutely nothing to do with the plot but appears here and there as comic relief – the last of a dying breed of British aristocracy.
Director Anthony Asquith does his best to balance these soap opera dramatics but the whole darn mess falls apart about midway through. The Frances/Paul/Marc love triangle is supposed to be the focus of our tale. But it is repeatedly interrupted by the Les/Mead financial woes and further diluted by the comic dithering of both the Buda/Marshall scandal and by the antics of the blithering duchess who can’t seem to find her passport, her hotel room or anything else for that matter.
Warner Home Video’s DVD transfer is a tad thick. Colors tend to be muddy, faded and inconsistently balanced. Black levels are too intense during certain scenes, causing a general lack of fine details throughout the presentation. There is a generally dull, flat and grainy characteristic to the visual elements. Flesh tones are very unnatural – either appearing garishly orange or grossly pink. There’s really not much to recommend the visual presentation which is one of the poorest of this vintage this reviewer has seen. The audio is mono and quite dull also. There are no extras.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
0
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