THE NIGHT OF THE IGUANA (and a large popcorn and lemonade)

Saw the 1964 film, THE NIGHT OF THE IGUANA, last night at the Brattle. Part of the John Huston centennial tribute going on thru next Tuesday—with a couple of programming breaks for the Wednesday guaranteed request raffle winner's double feature of PHANTOM OF THE OPERATOR, which looks *very* intriguing, and THE CONFORMIST, a visually tantalizing film that I thought ran a bit long; the Thursday All-Ages Spelling Bee benefit, featuring A BOY NAMED CHARLIE BROWN (sing it with me: No Dogs Al-Lowed! =); and the gorgeous martial arts fantasy adventure of AZUMI as the Friday and Saturday late shows.

I bought a few raffle tickets myself, carnsarnit! My double feature choices were not so... sophisticated. Perhaps better off for the theater that I didn't win. Heh. My favorite double bill is XANADU and FLASH GORDON. How awesome is that? =) SHAWN OF THE DEAD and NAPOLEON DYNAMITE or KUNG-FU HUSTLE could've been another, I forget now what others I submitted...

Back to IGUANA... The movie is adapted from the play based on the short story of the same name by Tennessee Williams. I heard at the theater that there's a new film in the works, with Jeremy Irons cast. When I went in for IGUANA, I *was* pondering doing a double feature of John Huston flicks—the other film was REFLECTIONS IN A GOLDEN EYE, about in-the-closet military man Brando tormented by his promiscuous and abusive wife, played by Elizabeth Taylor—but after IGUANA, I was too emotionally and mentally drained to tackle the second. The movie wraps a substantial and tasty dark chocolate metaphysical center in a THREE'S COMPANY-ish situation comedy candy shell.

NIGHT OF THE IGUANA tells the tale of Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon (Richard Burton, of RIVERWORLD, if I remember correctly =), a fallen minister struggling to keep himself sane and functional in what passes for the real world. Driven from his congregation by a scandalous transgression, he flees to Mexico, and gets by working at what he considers to be the lowest of the low stations possible for an educated man of the cloth—as a tour guide for Church groups visiting Mexico's missions and vacation spots. On his latest tour he's been accused of carrying on with the youngest, under age, member of the baptist church party, and threatened with the loss of his job. In a desperate attempt to win back the respect of the women's group, he hijacks the tour bus and takes them to a past refuge of his in Mexico, the House of the Iguana hotel. In the hammock on its veranda overlooking the ocean is the only place that he's known any semblance of peace in the year since he lost his church. He doesn't find much rest here, tho, as the young nymphet of the party, Charlotte (LOLITA's Sye Lyon), continues to pursue him, the recently widowed owner of the hotel, Maxine (Ava Gardner), has a history with the good reverend, and he finds himself drawn to another guest at the hotel, a globe-trotting sketch artist named Hannah (Deborah Kerr).

The phrase/Douglas Adams title THE LONG DARK TEA-TIME OF THE SOUL came to mind during the unfolding of this story. There comes a point in the story when the Reverend's lowly job has apparently been lost, and he's ready to leave the realistic for the fantastic (the two levels that he believes humanity can live in, with different degrees of success). The women overpower him for his own good and when he comes to, he finds himself tied to a hammock. Hannah is at his side, attempting to soothe his madness with the help of some "poppy" tea. As his keel evens out, they share a pretty heavy conversation about the demons they face and have faced. His is "The Spook." Hers, "The Blue Devil." In the course of this discussion the topic of relationships and sexual relations comes up...

Hannah: There are worse things than chastity...
Shannon: Yes. Insanity and death.

Some absolutely wicked turns of phrases in here—I wish I could remember more—and every one of them spoken with a purpose.

The big names (at least the ones I recognize—Burton, Gardner, Kerr) are all assigned to the major players, and rightly so, but I have to say, the woman who plays the fascist leader of the Baptist tour group, chaperone to the little minx, and hobgoblin of the Reverend, she is an absolute scene stealer with her haughty propriety and severe manner.

Heh. Maxine's native boytoys are a real hoot, in both dancing and fighting mode.

Another thread in the plot...Hannah is travelling with her nonagenerian grandfather, a poet. It seems that he has one last great work in him, and this voyage to this hotel, perched on a hillside before the ocean, is just the inspiration he needs to complete it.

The poem is quite beautiful and moving, and seems to fit the movie moment quite perfectly.

I don't have the know-how to properly discuss the film. It goes deep, but uses some scandalous and comedic situations to get you there. Damn entertaining and thoughtful. See it when you're in a mood to really listen as well as laugh.

Keep on keepin on~