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Occasionally a remake will wind up as the superior version, look at Judy Garland’s A Star is Born or John Huston’s debut The Maltese Falcon, that particular property was the third go at Dashiell Hammett’s stellar novel. This 1964 version of M. Somerset Maugham’s tale does not join those exemplary works. No, this version of Of Human Bondage falls into the abyss of lackluster remakes, but one that is at least worth a cursory look.
Director changes and production strife are warning signs for any property as so few of them transcend these handicaps, and Of Human Bondage blew through three of them. Shame that none of them could liven up the proceedings, as this version is distinctly lacking in energy, memorable images, and many of the big moments are fumbled. It began life under Henry Hathaway’s direction, and he wanted Montgomery Clift and Marilyn Monroe in the leads. Clift would be a stellar choice for Philip Carey, but Monroe is a strange choice for Mildred. Hathaway got neither of them, instead winding up with Laurence Harvey and Kim Novak. After one day of shooting, during which he sparred with Novak, Hathaway quit the film, then the writer, Bryan Forbes, took over until a suitable replacement was found. Finally, Ken Hughes took over the production.
None of this drama backstage translated to the screen, as the entirety of the film is a muted affair. There’s no passion, no heat, no believable erotic torture and chemistry between the leads, and the main thrust of the narrative is flaccid as a result. Of Human Bondage is about sexual obsession, and treating it with corseted emotions is not the right approach. We need to invest in and believe that the siren’s call of Mildred is enough to drive Philip to distraction, and we just don’t feel it here.
Even worse is how indifferent Harvey is throughout, unless it’s a scene where he gets to rage against Novak. Their backstage feud enlivens only the scenes where they name call, bicker, and verbally abuse each other. Aside from these moments, Harvey seems distracted throughout, like he’s counting down the minutes until the end of filming. This is a role that requires an actor to dig deep and mine for layers of sensitivity, tenderness, and helplessness. No wonder Hathaway wanted Clift in the lead that was his entire métier as a leading man. Though it’s not like any of the supporting players are even trying, or if they are, they play several scenes like they got no direction or support behind-the-scenes.
Only Novak provides a reason to watch this movie. She’s not delivering a good performance per se, as she grossly mishandles the role (and accent), but she’s fascinating to watch. Mildred should not be sympathetic or kittenish, she’s a sociopath who uses her amorality and sexuality to steamroll over anyone in her way, like a WWI era version of Barbara Stanwyck’s character in Baby Face. Yet Novak is frequently playing her slatternly strumpet less as a cruelly manipulative person and far more as a kittenish Cockney girl. It’s all wrong, but engrossing in its wrongness.
Her looks do much of the work in making Mildred believable as a shore men are happy to crash upon, but Novak’s performance finally works, not ironically or as camp like the rest of the film, in the final act. When Mildred returns as a destitute prostitute, Novak takes obvious glee in burying her beauty under hideous makeup and unflattering clothing. She delivers a verbal tirade against Harvey, detailing all of the ways in which she’s hated and mocked him over the years, that’s astounding for the volcanic layers of ugly emotions exploding out after years of repression. When she returns afflicted with late-stage complications from syphilis, Novak looks like a hollowed out ghoul. I would almost deem this performance as essential if the rest of it was as striking and honest to god great as these final moments, but that Cockney accent of hers is truly appalling. (Ok, so it’s not as entertainingly bad as Dick Van Dyke’s in Mary Poppins, but it’s still bad.)
Movie star performances can make or break middling or bad movies, and Of Human Bondage is a prime example of this phenomenon. Pity nothing else is of much value here, as the solid structure of the story salvages a few floundering moments. It’s also mercifully brief, coming in at 95 minutes. Sure, that means several emotional beats are compromised and numerous characters blur or fade away, but it also means that you’re in and out relatively quickly. Once you’re done watching this, go back to Bette Davis’ star making performance in the Pre-Code version and see this material done right.
