Bridge Movie Reviews

The opening sequence of Don't Raise the Bridge, Lower the River has a bowler-hatted Jerry Lewis mischievously striding (in his oddly graceful, loose-hipped way) along the streets of London. The spontaneous business he creates is, alas, the last bit of freshness in the movie, which quickly reverts to a painfully labored plot. Jerry is in Swinging London (wrap your mind around that), an entrepreneur who spends the entire film trying to make up to his estranged British wife for turning her family estate into a Chinese restaurant-discotheque. The story also involves Arab oil barons, Portuguese automobiles, and a philandering dentist. Lewis didn't direct himself in this one, which accounts for the off pacing and total lack of good visual gags. It was 1968, and his rapid decline from creative excellence (see The Ladies Man and The Nutty Professor) and box-office potency was already into its skid. --Robert Horton

Lawrence of Arabia
In David Lean's masterful "desert classic," Peter O'Toole gives a star-making performance as T.E. Lawrence, the eccentric British officer who united the desert tribes of Arabia against the Turks during World War I. Lean orchestrates sweeping battle sequences and breathtaking action, but the film is really about the adventures and trials that transform Lawrence into a legendary man of the desert. Lean traces this transformation on a vast canvas of awesome physicality; no other movie has captured the expanse of the desert with such scope and grandeur. Equally important is the psychology of Lawrence, who remains an enigma even as we grasp his identification with the desert. Perhaps the greatest triumph of this landmark film is that Lean has conveyed the romance, danger, and allure of the desert with such physical and emotional power. It's a film about a man who leads one life but is irresistibly drawn to another, where his greatness and mystery are allowed to flourish in equal measure. --Jeff Shannon

The Bridge on the River Kwai
Director David Lean's masterful 1957 realization of Pierre Boulle's novel remains a benchmark for war films, and a deeply absorbing movie by any standard--like most of Lean's canon, The Bridge on the River Kwai achieves a richness in theme, narrative, and characterization that transcends genre. The story centers on a Japanese prison camp isolated deep in the jungles of Southeast Asia, where the remorseless Colonel Saito (Sessue Hayakawa) has been charged with building a vitally important railway bridge. His clash of wills with a British prisoner, the charismatic Colonel Nicholson (Alec Guinness), escalates into a duel of honor, Nicholson defying his captor's demands to win concessions for his troops. How the two officers reach a compromise, and Nicholson becomes obsessed with building that bridge, provides the story's thematic spine; the parallel movement of a team of commandos dispatched to stop the project, led by a British major (Jack Hawkins) and guided by an American escapee (William Holden), supplies the story's suspense and forward momentum. Shot on location in Sri Lanka, Kwai moves with a careful, even deliberate pace that survivors of latter-day, high-concept blockbusters might find lulling--Lean doesn't pander to attention deficit disorders with an explosion every 15 minutes. Instead, he guides us toward the intersection of the two plots, accruing remarkable character details through extraordinary performances. Hayakawa's cruel camp commander is gradually revealed as a victim of his own sense of honor, Holden's callow opportunist proves heroic without softening his nihilistic edge, and Guinness (who won a Best Actor Oscar, one of the production's seven wins) disappears as only he can into Nicholson's brittle, duty-driven, delusional psychosis. His final glimpse of self-knowledge remains an astonishing moment--story, character, and image coalescing with explosive impact. --Sam Sutherland

A Passage to India
This adaptation of E.M. Forster's mysterious tale of British racism in colonial India turned out to be master director David Lean's final film. Subtle and grand at the same time, Lean's adaptation is faithful to the book, rendering its blend of the mystical and the all-too human with exquisite precision. Judy Davis plays a young British woman traveling in India with her fiancé's mother. While visiting a tourist attraction, she has a frightening moment in a cave--one that she eventually spins from an instant of mental meltdown into a tale of a physical attack that ruins several lives. Lean captures Forster's sense of awe at the kind of ageless wisdom and inexplicable phenomena to be encountered in India, as well as the British tendency to dismiss it all as savage, rather than simply different. --Marshall Fine

How can a movie be so ludicrous and so ecstatic at the same time? The Lovers on the Bridge stars Juliette Binoche as a street person (there, in a nutshell, is the ludicrous part) who was formerly an artist, but began to go blind and whose life fell apart as a result. She hooks up with a homeless street performer (Denis Lavant) who lives on a bridge in the middle of Paris that has been cordoned off for repairs. He falls madly in love with her; she can't bear the thought of being close to anyone. Both are more than a little irrational. But this banal scenario is merely the pretext for a series of lush and stunning images--including midnight water-skiing, fireworks displays, wandering through falling snow, burning posters in subway tunnels--and richly committed performances from the actors. It's not quite as overwhelming on video as it is on a movie screen, but there's such a gushing of emotional images that it's hard to resist the angst and yearning passion. Though the film dives into some cliches, it manages to avoid others; when Binoche's wealthy family starts looking for her, a frightened Lavant tries to keep her hidden away, and you really don't know whether their relationship can possibly survive. An unusual and sweeping film--and an example of the power of visual images to create a state of rapture. --Bret Fetzer