okay, this is no masterpiece of any kind, but it's just about perfectly done for what it is (with one exception). literary sensibility is always wonderful when brought to the screen, and this is no exception - even when the work in question is as utterly insignificant as Hilton's "Goodbye, Mr. Chips". I haven't actually read Hilton's novel, but this movie feels pretty unadulterated to me. An insubstantial, pleasingly sentimental little wisp of a story, a bit like "Driving Miss Daisy" in its smallness and tastefulness, but better directed and more emotionally satisfying and fuller. Peter O'Toole gives what is, in my opinion, the best performance of his extraordinary career (along with his - utterly different - turn in "The Stunt Man"). He manages to project Chips' timidity and smallness of spirit beautifully (especially in the scene in the restaurant where he first meets Petula Clark's character, his future wife), while lending him great dignity and carrying the film emotionally. There's no question in my mind that he should have won the Academy Award. Petula Clark is, in the beginning of the film, a bit too old and plump to be convincing as the hot young showgirl she's supposed to be, but she still looks great and, most importantly, has the charm and joie de vivre that the role demands she have, in spades, in order for her to convince us that she could melt the quiet old prune that is O'Toole's Mr. Chips and bring charm and gaiety into his life. The film is, in general, surprisingly well directed and atmospheric, with a very convincing school atmosphere. The extras all seem very convincing and well-directed, and the film is lavish - enjoyably so. So kudos to Herbert Ross in that department. The other superb performance comes from Sian Phillips as Clark's actress friend Ursula Mossbank, a heavenly role invented for the film. Phillips is pure style, an exquisitely charming, campy creature, towering in skimpy silk dresses with the sinuous neck of a leopard. The only flaw in the film is the music, which Pauline Kael aptly described as "a form of instantly disposable muzak....Your brain flushes it out while you're hearing it". That's pretty much the size of it, in fact, one may have fond memories of the film, having completely forgotten that it was a musical, as the music is so uninspired you barely experience it at all. It's just a faint irritation that unnecessarily stretches the film out to its unwieldy length. Oh well. A lovely film, just the same.
Review of Goodbye, Mr. Chips
