Voyage avec ma tante

Maggie Smith is questionably cast as a wacky British eccentric, enlisting the aid of her uptight "nephew" (the terrific Alec McGowen) to help her out of a complicated blackmail scheme. Lumbering comedy-drama adapted from a Graham Greene novel is heavily padded with pinched, salty wit and lots of gossipy chit-cat and theatrical flair. It can't compensate for a lack of substance in the story, nor that Smith is too smart of an actress to be completely convincing as this merry madcap. George Cukor directed, with a heavy hand. Lou Gossett and Cindy Williams are both fine in support, but the movie is a featherweight farce undercut by faded-memory pathos. More heart and humor would have sufficed. ** from ****

Graham Greene's novels can be so subtle as to tend toward the obscure. It's no wonder, then, that "Travels" translated to film tends to meander a bit. Greene himself admitted that he wasn't really sure where Henry and Aunt Augusta were going to land next.

The travels here are of two types -- physical, across Europe, and temporal, as Augusta reminisces. One breaks up the other, while still advancing the plot, such as it is, although at times it seems to disappear.

The chief enjoyments here are the travels of the physical kind -- the varied scenery, the sumptuous architectures, the brilliant photography, the geographically-appropriate costumes.

The acting isn't bad, either. One can but wish they'd had more to work with.

In a plot as zany as any the Marx Brothers could have hilariously mangled, the characters of Travels With My Aunt whirl you along with them through their oddball adventures. This is a film that just missed being a cinema landmark. But miss it does.

Travels With My Aunt has everything going for it: splendid performances, helzapoppin' pacing (except for one or two brief languishments in the directorial doldrums), clever writing (adapted from Graham Greene's endearing story), and a cast working the material for all it's worth. So why does it miss?

It misses because when it needs to be trying hard it lays back; and when it needs to lay back it tries too hard. And, more importantly, because it never grounds itself in the solid realm of the believable.

ALlso, every VHS print I've seen suffers from sound so muddy that I found myself rewinding to catch, and enjoy, some of the film's funniest lines. The editing on VHS prints also leaves a lot to be desired; a hectic, zany film doesn't need any "help" from eye-startling jumps past the occasional few sprocket holes.

Nevertheless the comic performances are brilliant, especially Louis Gossett Jr.'s as the patois-butchering, potheaded, half-mystical, half-cutthroat, hair-trigger-tempered Wordsworth. Maggie Smith's Aunt Augusta (a perfect name for a character who's anything but august) reigns like a mad queen over the whole cast throughout Augusta's self-narrated, self-indulgent, breathless reverie and search for her past loves & losses & triumphs. Alec McCowen plays Henry Pulling with perfectly understated aplomb, making you believe that his dowager aunt is leaving him breathless, bewildered, and yet bewitched by the world she leads him, from out of his insipid workaday life, to experience. As Tooley the young Cindy Williams deftly sends-up the pop-culture-soaked American youth of the time on a European spree: neither of Tooley's two feet ever seem to touch the earth, but her heart reaches out to touch Henry Pulling. And Henry, being Henry, manages to mismanage - but later learns that mismanaging is just part of...c'est la vie!

This film urges you to stop taking life and yourself too seriously, and to instead, as the old Schlitz beer spots used to exhort, "Grab for all the Gusto you can!" This is all well and good, but the film wants some sort of bottom, a sense of grounding, a matter of connection that's just not there despite the lovely pathos the energetic characters generate. Maybe it's that a film that's not just a vehicle for comic antics can't be all sparks and no fuel? That worked for the Marx Brothers, but their "storylines" were mere props for their well-rehearsed antics and brain-boggling doubletalk. But Travels With My Aunt actually tries to tell a touching human tale - yet, like Tooley's, the film's feet never touch the ground that an engaging tale needs to convince, to captivate its audience.

In the end, which seems to leave cast and audience suspended somewhere between earth and a fifth dimension, you wonder: is Maggie Smith's character really Henry Pulling's mother, and not his "aunt"? One thing's for sure: Henry's not going back to being a bank manager, or to anally tending his little garden where the loud trains - of life and experience and adventure - had always, until now, passed him by.

Anthony Powell died recently, so I decided to watch a movie for which he won an Academy Award for designing the costumes. George Cukor's "Travels with My Aunt" is no masterpiece but enjoyable enough, with Maggie Smith as a fun-loving woman who takes her nephew across Europe. There's a number of high jinks along the way. It looks like a movie that they had fun making. It's not any sort of great movie, but I liked it.

In addition to Alec McCowen as the nephew, the supporting cast includes Louis Gossett Jr. (An Officer and a Gentleman) and Cindy Williams (American Graffiti).

Dull stuffy bachelor meets flamboyant eccentric aunt, who seeks to show him the world's pleasures. Sound familiar? While based on a Graham Greene novel, "Travels with My Aunt" plays on screen like a subdued version of "Auntie Mame." Unlike the rowdy broadness of the Patrick Dennis play and the Rosalind Russell film, George Cukor's adaptation of the Greene work tries to be high-toned and literary, while simultaneously striving to seem madcap and funny. Unfortunately, the film succeeds more in its pretentiousness than it does in its comedy.

Alec McCowen is fine as Henry Pulling, the bank clerk who fusses with dahlias in his spare time and fumes prissily when cannabis is mixed with the ashes of his mother. Henry is a prime candidate for an Auntie Mame, although he's a bit beyond his formative years. Henry's out-of-character dalliance aboard the Orient Express with Cindy Williams, as a young drifter on her way to Katmandu, should have been cut. The tryst adds nothing to the plot and only confuses perceptions about Henry. Maggie Smith, at times stunningly garbed in luscious gowns by Anthony Powell, plays Aunt Augusta for all she's worth, and Maggie is certainly worth a great deal. Although the actress is clearly too old to play the younger Augusta and too young, even with the age makeup, to play the elder woman, Smith is always fascinating to watch. Despite her mannerisms, which at times overwhelm the characterization, Smith is generally convincing and should have taken a shot at playing Mame Dennis in either the comedy or the musical version of "Auntie Mame."

Although "Travels with My Aunt" was beautifully filmed by Douglas Slocombe against scenic splendor that stretches from Istanbul to Venice to Spain, the pace is often sluggish, and the plot preposterous. The proceedings are propelled by Augusta's need to raise the ransom money to rescue a former lover, whose minor appendages are being sent to her one by one as a warning. However, coincidences abound, plot holes deepen, and threads are left hanging all over. Without McCowen and Smith, the film would be little more than a stylish, if soporific, travelogue.