Olivier awards the viewer with one of his most impressive, fiery performances ever, and playing the type of character that suited him best - a seedy, vulgar, egotistical elderly man (once a mediocre sea captain that was never able to hold the title of major) who takes enormous pleasure in destroying the lives of everyone that surrounds him, including his wife (once an also mediocre lady performer), to whom he has shared 25 five years of sheer hate and disgust. The latest victim of his fiendish intrigues is a distant cousin of hers, assigned to become head of the local Quarentene office, on the Island, somewhere in Eastern Europe, where they live, and to whom Alice - the shrewish wife - shared ( and shares ) a rather strange relationship. August Strindberg's play is captured beautifully on screen by the National Theater , with the help of strong, fiercely intense performances, by both leading lady and gentleman. The only misfire of this sadly underrated motion picture is the editing, that could be better, even though the beautiful images of the Island that are intertwined with the gloomy, dreary atmosphere of Olivier and McEwan's residence, are absolutely fascinating. Thoroughly a classic, thought-provoking, character study of both emotional and mental bankruptcy. Post - Scryptum - If you would like to see Sir Olivier do an equally repelling part, do see 'The Entertainer' as well.
Review of The Dance of Death
