Richard Burton would seem ideally cast as a literal lady-killer in post-WWI Austria, yet his lead performance as "Bluebeard" never catches fire--and, as a result, the picture is a stillborn piece of macabre-y which is never thrilling enough nor funny enough to sustain interest for long. Former war pilot-turned-wealthy Baron (complete with a bluish beard to mask his scars) marries a succession of women who rub him the wrong way after rubbing up against him. It isn't that he dislikes women--he hates what their lust turns him into (seems the Baron suffers from bedroom problems). French-Italian-West German co-production has a striking art direction and design, but suffers from continual poor taste. Veteran director Edward Dmytryk is as tough on the animals as he is on the female victims, and an early hunting montage of creatures being shot and writhing in pain on the ground is unbelievably insensitive. Joey Heatherton tries hard in the largest femme role as the Baron's seventh wife, but Dmytryk undercuts her performance with a cheesy succession of nude shots. It appears the producers wanted titillation, satire and black comedy, but Dmytryk doesn't have the nimble touch to pull this trifecta off. For star-watchers, Raquel Welch and Virna Lisi are around for about six minutes apiece, while Burton remains in a deadly low-key throughout (although creepy at times, Burton is just faking his way through). Filmed in Budapest, the picture has an interesting look and some definite signs of style, but the narrative is a mess. A young handmaiden is involved in an accident while crossing a bridge, which we are to assume was orchestrated by the Baron, but we never learn why he chose to do this, how he managed to pull this stunt off, or whether or not the girl was killed. The screenwriters--Dmytryk among them--have even thrown in a Nazi-styled subplot which only serves as a shortcut to the finale (as if this Bluebeard weren't nasty enough, he's also made a war criminal!). It's an ungodly mess, crude and off-putting, though not without some shamefaced fascination. *1/2 from ****
Review of Bluebeard
