Tiara Tahiti

A splendid example of the British old boys system being tested to the limit. Wonderful performances by Mason and Mills ,showing how real acting is done. Films like this are so rare now and the incessant mumbling of so many of our modern "stars" leave so much to be desired.

Should be shown along with Tunes of Glory to all students of film to give them a yard stick of how it should be done.

No car chases ,violence,swearing etc,just high class masterfull acting.

The film begins in post war Germany, where John Mills demonstrates his talent for comedy characters in his role as Clifford Southey, a pompous, insecure caricature of a British Colonel, whose regiment is agitated by the arrival of a former business acquaintance, Captain Brett Aimsley. Aimsley, a charming rogue who's been selling stolen goods on the black market, throws Southey's over-regimented regiment into chaos by holding noisy gatherings involving gambling and lewd jokes - it's quite astonishing to hear the quintessential gentleman Mason's gag about the Frenchman who found happiness! The newcomer's gatherings have destroyed Southey's friendly games of bridge, by stealing away all but the most dedicated bridge players, and understandably, he's not standing for it. He calls Aimsley to his office with the intention of setting him straight, but Aimsley's charm wins him over and the pusillanimous Colonel lets his former friend off the hook, only to rat on him for his black market deals while he's on leave in London. Some years later, Aimsley has moved to Tahiti to escape his court martial. Coincidentally, Southey, who is now the director of a chain of hotels, comes to town to try to stitch up a deal for a new hotel.

Even though there are few laugh-out-loud jokes in this film, its strength lies in the fact that it is consistently entertaining, partly because of the topsy-turvy relationship between Southey and Aimsley, and also because of the constant deflating of Southey's ego. For example, just as Southey was making progress impressing two female tourists with his encyclopedic knowledge of wine, Aimsley arrives and takes away the bottle Southey has just analysed and praised, then says "We can do better than that in Tahiti. I'll get you something drinkable."

Mills' performance is quite hilarious - he creates one of those absurd characters that needs only to walk into a room for one to start laughing. The funniest scenes in the film involve Southey - who is alone apart from us - rehearsing how he is going to confront Aimsley. Despite his basically good moral character, he's one of those characters we love to hate because of his pomposity and his many unreasonable assumptions about Aimsley.

Mason was the perfect choice to play Aimsley, the charming, likable scoundrel. We remain on his side throughout the film because his charm wins us over, just as it won over Southey early in the film. There are adequate performances from Rosenda Monteros as Aimsley's love interest, the charming and flirty Belle and from Herbert Lom as Chong, the hilarious and politically incorrect caricature of a Chinese shopkeeper.

It is the characters that make this film, but the script is equally strong, save for the redundant sub-plot involving an American sailor who tries to steal Belle away from Aimsley. A dramatic twist towards the end of the film adds to what is a mostly engrossing story. We are left wondering until the end whether Southey will ever finally confront Aimsley, or whether the two will return to being friends, as well as whether or not Southey will get his hotel built. A highly enjoyable film with an excellent cast and a clever script.

The essence of this delightful comedy is the English class system that was of the time. The film's added ingredient, that makes it so watchable, is aspiration. The twin themes of class and aspiration also run throughout the sub-plots.

Driven by his desire for success, John Mills' Clifford Southey models himself on James Mason's suave Brett Aimsley, imitating his smart dress, polished speech, and his sophisticated upper-class manner. But Southey frequently reverts to type whenever pressured: as a colonel reprimanding a junior fellow-officer Southey, having worked his way through the ranks, loses his charming manner and barks "get your 'air cut"; later in Tahiti Southey forgets himself when dealing with Marcel, the French policeman, and his flashes of uncontrolled temper and charmless outbursts land him even deeper in it. On each occasion Southey recovers and, as he has trained himself to do, quickly re-adopts the persona of Aimsley to dig himself out.

Southey will never quite achieve the confident, effortless, upper-class charisma that Aimsley exudes in spades - after all it's down to breeding. Captain Aimsley easily disarms Southey's best-rehearsed dressing-downs: "That's Philpott - I take it the firm has lost her too?" exclaims Brett as he notices a picture of the Colonel's wife upon his desk; "But I interrupted you, do forgive me". Brett's innocent interruption blunt his Colonel's attacks and render him lost. Throughout the film, Aimsley stems Southey's flow with such polished interjections.

Ironically, Southey's real persona isn't all that bad: a mixture of gritty determination and acquired manners, he has the right blend for success - no wonder he's the MD! During the scene in which he wins over his fellow directors he mixes the rounded vowels and confident line borrowed from Brett: "Gentlemen, don't do anything I wouldn't do, which of course leaves you free to do absolutely anything"; with the steely flash of quick-fire rhetoric "We've always seen stumbling blocks as stepping stones...". Just like any successful Yorkshire businessman!

So much for the main plot - Mills' character envies Mason's class, and strives to adopt what he can never quite have. But throughout the sub-plots there run similar themes: Belle Annie badly wants to be someone else; alternating between an English lady and an American model, either of which would be a step up the social-class ladder. Because Brett shows little sign of returning to England, her attentions switch to Joey, an American sailor halfway through his Charles Atlas course, who might just help her achieve her secondary ambition of treading the New York catwalk. What aspirations!

Of course, Joey himself has his own agenda, albeit a rather simple one: he wants to be a lover-boy; his womanising desires do not extend to carnal lust - what he really wants is to be an object of desire to like the body-building hunks in his muscle-magazines. A Cassanova image would elevate his status among his fellow crew-members, so he adopts the posturing style of his magazines to win the girl. Too busy showing off his muscles, and expounding his adopted morals, to notice Belle Annie offering herself to him on the beach, Joey finishes up satisfied with his newly-acquired status with his Captain ("What a Cassanova you turned out to be").

Still on sub-plots, what about Herbert Lom's (nowadays)politically incorrect Chinaman, Chong? Clearly he desires the girl, Belle Annie, and does his devious best to win her from Aimsley. But Chong's duplicity when dealing with everyone from American Tourists ("White trash!") to his Anglo-French card school ("All white Christian visitors are welcome on the island") reveals a toadying character to his masters and social betters. He imitates their good manners and behaviour in their company, whilst secretly despising them ("Their white skin! Urgh! And the Smell! Pooh!). Of course Chong can never be anything other than what he is - he is as restricted by his own background as is Southey, "that little clerk".

Look closely and you see other characters whose aspirations cause them to mimic others' behaviour. Roy Kinnear's Captain Enderby, of working class background but elevated army status, has adopted the clipped tones and lofty manner of his Colonel; and the French policeman Marcel's comical literary aspirations cause him, when dealing with Aimsley, to behave as he believes an English gentleman should behave (and relax the law). But Marcel reverts to type and becomes as difficult as any French official when dealing with Southey, who, makes the mistake of rudely declaring Marcel's novel childish.

So the sub-plots mirror the main theme of the film: class, and aspiration. There's a certain vanity throughout, which causes everyone to adopt out of character behaviour.

And Aimsley himself? Mason's character seems at first to lack any social agenda, money aside; perfectly assured and satisfied with his effortless Tahitian life. Yet he too has a secret aspiration - observe how he gazes wistfully at a plane flying overhead; and the fond way in which he reads trivia from his English newspaper. Like Ronald Biggs, Brett Ainsley longs to return to England. What sets him aside is that he will not pursue his particular aspiration - unlike others in the cast - because he has been "cashiered, disgraced" his class and breeding render any such return out of the question.

This doesn't preclude Aimsley from having a little sport with Clifford Southey, by allowing him to shoulder the blame for the attack (and thus pay-back some humiliation and disgrace on his former colonel) even after the penny has dropped that his attacker must have been Chong. Southey, angry and uncouth, departs the island but then (in the final twist), copy-catting Brett Ainsley to the last, takes it on the chin with a civilised farewell wave.

Anyone want a free trip to Tahiti in 1962? James Mason and John Mills did, so they made Tiara Tahiti. It's a silly comic romp, but at least you'll get to see some pretty beaches and scenery.

The movie starts off during WWII. John Mills is the head honcho among his troops, until an unexpected visit from James Mason shakes everything up. James is just so likable, everyone's loyalty shifts. Add in that John used to work for James before the war and still has a chip on his shoulder, and there's a bit of bad blood between them. To get even, John anonymously blows the whistle on James's smuggling racket.

Or is it anonymous? When they're reunited years later after the war, by a chance meeting in Tahiti, what will happen? Does James know his old friend is really his enemy? Is the friendly smile covering up hard feelings, or is he really as happy-go-lucky as he seems to be? If you liked his adorable cleverness in A Touch of Larceny, you've got to catch James in this movie, too. He has lots of fun shirtless, smooching scenes with his Tahitian girlfriend, Rosenda Monteros, to show that even in his fifties, he's still got it!

Tiara Tahiti is a strange film and not one I think that should be something that James Mason and John Mills should be noted for. Their one film collaboration should have been something better.

Of course pictorially the film is fine. The South Seas in color cinematography is impossible to do badly.

Mason comes off far better. He's from the upper classes and at one time Mills clerked for his father. But when they got in the army the positions were reversed. Mills has risen to be a colonel and he's quite the little martinet. But when Mason comes into his command those old feelings of inferiority take over. When he gets a chance he rats Mason out during the post war occupation years as someone doing a bit of smuggling. Which gets Mason cashiered from the army and a disgrace to his family.

So here he is on Tahiti living the good life and here comes John Mills now a big hotel tycoon, but still with the same feelings about Mason. What happens next is quite frankly not to be believed on any level.

In many ways the character that John Mills is playing is a variant from one of his greatest films Tunes Of Glory. He's the same kind of uptight character in Tiara Tahiti. But works in a tragedy really does not go well in this comedy.

In fact there's jealousy all around as Herbert Lom all made up as an Oriental is also quite jealous of Mason's upper class breeding even though he's two steps above a beachcomber. Tables get turned on him as well.

Tiara Tahiti is a beautiful, but quirky film that never quite gels.