One Paragraph Movie Review: Camille

Sixty-seventh film: Camille, with Greta Garbo. As my first Garbo film, it took a good ten minutes to become accustomed to the extremely-drawn-on eyebrows indeed, and as it’s set in mid-19th century Paris, the nine hundred and fifty thousand metres of frilly dresses. This is textbook love-that-cannot-be romance, with everybody’s social standing getting in the way of them just kissing whoever they want to, when obviously everyone should be kissing the extremely handsome Robert Taylor. The lesson: love is dumb, but also quite good. As a side note, it’s reassuring to see that nobody in the history of cinema has ever known exactly what to do with curly hair. Two and seven-eighths dainty consumption handkerchiefs out of five.