This adaptation of Somerset Maugham's sordid tale about an alluring woman who gets progressively judged and berated and then lusted upon by a Christian missionary is less about moral hypocrisy and more about Evolution since, from the moment Rita Hayworth lands on a Samoan island full of marines, the biggest and toughest jarhead in Aldo Ray has her number, and won't let go...
None of his underlings, not even a more muscular Charles Bronson, harmonica-playing Henry Slate or goofball Rudy Bond has a chance; and most of MISS SADIE THOMPSON seems like PR for the noticeably-aged Rita Hayworth to still be a relevant sex symbol... for a young male audience...
And she looks great despite overacting the 'good time girl' routine, singing her lines while speaking her songs. But that experienced countenance neatly blends into a free-spirited yet enigmatic character that hypocritical bible-belting Jose Ferrer realizes could have been a prostitute, forcing our marooned goddess in bright red (intentionally contrasting with the grainy-dull browns and greens for what was originally 3D) into a sudden guilty change of conscience. And this 11th hour melancholy-Hayworth, although turning in a far more subtle, natural performance, is but a means to an extremely rushed ending: Instead of building a hate/love/lust relationship between leads Hayworth and Ferrer, the latter simply frowns then screams and then explodes, leading back to that rushed romance with Ray, an infatuation as equally empty and hollow - but on HER terms.
None of his underlings, not even a more muscular Charles Bronson, harmonica-playing Henry Slate or goofball Rudy Bond has a chance; and most of MISS SADIE THOMPSON seems like PR for the noticeably-aged Rita Hayworth to still be a relevant sex symbol... for a young male audience...
And she looks great despite overacting the 'good time girl' routine, singing her lines while speaking her songs. But that experienced countenance neatly blends into a free-spirited yet enigmatic character that hypocritical bible-belting Jose Ferrer realizes could have been a prostitute, forcing our marooned goddess in bright red (intentionally contrasting with the grainy-dull browns and greens for what was originally 3D) into a sudden guilty change of conscience. And this 11th hour melancholy-Hayworth, although turning in a far more subtle, natural performance, is but a means to an extremely rushed ending: Instead of building a hate/love/lust relationship between leads Hayworth and Ferrer, the latter simply frowns then screams and then explodes, leading back to that rushed romance with Ray, an infatuation as equally empty and hollow - but on HER terms.