The Constant Nymph (1943)

The story concerning the distribution of The Constant Nymph is often more remembered than the movie itself. This is because Margaret Kennedy, the author of the novel on which the movie is based, stated on her will that, after the end of its theatrical run, the picture could be shown only at universities and museums, making it nearly unavailable for the public until 2011. Nowadays, though accessible, the film is still rather obscure and the discussion over its long unavailability has definitely overshadowed any critical debate over its quality. So, is The Constant Nymph any good? Yes, even though it has its flaws. 

I had already seen a couple of Edmund Goulding's movies and I was not especially impressed: Dark Victory (1939) was a decent but rather unremarkable product made worth-watching by a phenomenal and underrated performance from Bette Davis, whereas The Razor's Edge (1947) was a dull, uneven mess with the sole redeeming quality of Anne Baxter's poignant, Oscar-winning turn. The Consant Nymph is a genuinely fine piece of work, and even though its strongest asset is by far the leading performance it is not just a vehicle for its star(s): it's more ambitious and cinematic than Dark Victory, but not nearly as pretentious as The Razor's Edge. It's a surprisingly well-done melodrama - not groundbreaking, but effectively touching. 

Charles Boyer plays Lewis Dodd, a technically talented but passionless composer who lives in London: in attempt to catch a break from his critics and to find some inspiration, he visits his friend Albert Sanger (Montagu Love) in his house in rural Switzerland. Cinematographer Tony Gaudio captures wonderfully the peaceful beauty of the countryside: his stunning, vivid images appropriately enhance the idea of the Sanger's home as a locus amoenus, a heavenly place that contrasts strikingly with the more somber London. Sanger has four daughters: Kate (Jean Muri), Toni (an often unbearable Brenda Marshall), Paula (a rather sweet Joyce Reynolds) and Tessa (Joan Fontaine). Tessa, Lewis' favourite, is a sweet girl with a heart condition and a long-standing crush for him. Joan Fontaine, who received her third Academy Award nomination for this, is magnificent, no less impressive than in Rebecca (1940) and Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948). Even though she was about 26 when the movie was shot, she is absolutely convincing as a 14-year-old, bringing the youthful enthusiasm and naivety the part requires. But, most importantly, she is compelling: with her selflessness and kindness, Tessa could have been an unbelievable or corny character, but Fontaine turns her into someone that is not only endearing and relatable, but also genuinely interesting. 

As long as the movie focuses on Lewis' stay with the Sanger family, the movie is surprisingly captivating and Goulding's direction is far more assured than in any other of his movies that I saw: there's a sense of place and a grasp on the story that I found to be thoroughly absent in his aforementioned work. Unfortunately, the movie stumbles midway through, when Mr. Sanger dies, Lewis marries Tessa's sophisticated cousin (Alexis Smith) and moves with her in London while Tessa and Paula are sent to boarding school. Though it remains entirely watchable, it loses the magical, personal touch of the first hour and becomes a much more standard, formulaic melodrama. Goulding seems to lose his tight grip on the story, which becomes often unfocused, making the huge mistake of often drifting away from Joan Fontaine and dealing with the relationship between Boyer's and Smith's characters. This is not a criticism towards the latter actors' performances, as they portray their characters more than adequately. Boyer can often be a little dull as a romantic lead (All This, And Heaven Too) but here he gives a rather impressive performance, bringing genuine frustration to his character's mood swings and outbursts while also imbuing Lewis with enough charisma to be likeable. And Smith might occasionally veer towards excess but makes for an effectively venomous , embittered villain, while bringing just about the right amount of sympathy in her character's key moments. May Whitty, Charles Coburn and Peter Lorre also adds nicely to the story despite being wasted in underwritten roles. But, still, Tessa is the engine that keeps the story going and the movie becomes far less entrancing when she is not on-screen. 

And, in fact, it's when Tessa becomes again the center of the story that the movie picks up some steam  again. Fontaine's understated, quietly enchanting performance is an underrated masterpiece, finding the beauty in the character's simplicity and spontaneity of feelings; and she and Boyer deserve kudos for making their character's love story so involving and remarkable in spite of the considerable age difference between the two. Whenever the film focuses on them, it thrives. Whenever it does not, less so. But, with all its flaws, The Constant Nymph remains a memorable movie and one that succeeds in pulling the heartstrings without having to try too hard. In the marvelous final sequence, you'll find it hard not to be moved by Fontaine's shattering work and Erich Wolfgang Korngold's rip-roaring, romantic score. It might not be a perfect work, nor a historically important one, but it's a movie that earns the viewer's emotion, and that is more than enough. 

75/100