There are some great names in this film, Olivia de Havilland for one in the title role, John Gilbert back on the screen as a great lover, Paul Scofield as King Philip II of Spain, Francoise Rosay as Olivia de Havilland's trusted friend and nurse, Dennis Price as a double-dealing minister and even Christopher Lee in a small part as a captain; Richard Addison has contributed a great score, and the director is no one less than Terence Young, later on famous mostly for his James Bond films. All this should add to a great film of splendour, pageantry and glory? Well, does it? The story and script would have made a great basis for an opera, but as it is, it is no more than a rather heavy-weight melodrama. It's the heavy Spanish court of Philip II in his monastery castle outside Madrid, a monumental mausoleum for the living dead, and all you miss in this film is Don Carlos and that dreary additional intrigue. Paul Scofield runs the film, it's his character that you will remember afterwards, a gloomy giant of loneliness and miserable inhumanity, while Olivia de Havilland makes a very credible martyred princess. The settings are heavy, but they should be so, and their gloom only add to the realism of this study in the incompatibility of love with power - Philip sacrifices everything for his power and especially his soul and humanity, leaving nothing left - than further disasters of his realm, like the great armada against England. The film is interesting for its story and truthful rendering of the suffocating inhibition of the Spanish court, so there is nothing wrong with it. All you lack is the sparkle of life that was banned from thence.
