Review of The Glass Castle

Vicki Baum was a writer of monumental trivialities of casual stuff, and this is no exception. Michèle Morgan is always worth watching an entire film for her amazing beauty, and the same could be said about Jean Marais whose good looks were perfect for any romantic role. The introduction is overwhelmingly romantic for its beauty, this is René Clement at his best, but unfortunately that standard is not sustained. The romance is sustained, but somehow the other relationships of the lovers enter as a disturbing sub-plot, which brings everything down on a mundane basis, especially the cold professionalism of Michèle Morgan's husband, a judge, whose only concern is his career. The glass house is a small sculpture of glass of a castle that eventually falls down and breaks into pieces, and both Michèle Morgan and Jean Marais trample into the pieces and get bleeding feet - a kind of symbolism for the whole picture. You feel throughout that this can never end well, no matter how beautiful and fascinatingly well they act in their beautious engagement, they practically speak all through the film of their necessary departure, and when it finally takes place, it's not as they had thought. It's an interesting and beautiful film on a poor story, like a short story by Maupassant or O.Henry, and it never gets into any interesting depths or ecstatic heights - it just roams undecidedly around Paris, and Jean Marais is perfectly right in wanting to keep her there - pity he doesn't get what he wants.