Pandora and the Flying Dutchman (1951)

Directed by Albert Lewin; produced by Albert Lewin and Joseph Kaufmann

Into the life of a jaded beauty (Ava Gardner) living in a Spanish coastal town comes a mysterious Dutchman (James Mason). Seemingly immune to her charms, indeed, seeming to know more about her than she knows herself, the woman is drawn to him, despite her engagement to a professional driver (Nigel Patrick) and the attentions of a matador (Mario Cabré). She cannot know that the relationship will end as part of a centuries-old myth.

A most entertaining movie, Pandora and the Flying Dutchman somehow manages to maintain one’s interest throughout, despite the knowledge, given to the viewer in the first few minutes, of how the story will end. This it does with a running time of just over two hours, greater than most films of the period. It’s style and narrative reminded me a great deal of Powell and Pressburger (“The Archers”) at their best; perhaps this is influenced by the vibrant colours used.

The story manages to bring together discouragement, despair, longing and hope, all at once. It combines ancient Greek and medieval Dutch myths. It may have seemed an arbitrary pairing, but it is not. If anything detrimental, it may be a bit awkward. Nonetheless, this presents both leading characters, male and female, to be in need of hope, possibly redemption. The Flying Dutchman is cursed for a heinous and prideful crime, while Pandora is responsible for unleashing all of mankind’s ills upon the world. Indeed, in the movie, the alluring Pandora drives men to their destruction; not through her own fault, however, but through their weakness in seeing her superficially. Hendrik van den Zee does not bother with her looks; he is seeking something deeper.

The script allows - also like those of The Archers’ movies - for digression, as might a novel. We see Patrick’s attempt to break the world land-speed record. This adds little to the story but involves us in the characters’ world. The writing and directing is such that the viewer doesn’t consider it superfluous to the film, which it is, but as an exciting minor adventure to be shared with the people in the film.

The characters are well defined, and not limited to mythical types. Pandora, for instance, taunts men with what she knows is her power over them. In fact, she is testing them, to find something different. She seems dismissive of others, including a plainer rival (Sheila Sim), yet may feel not a little envy of them.

The acting is very good. Mason may come across as more stiff than Gardner but this is in keeping with the character, who has had several lifetimes in which to hone his despair. His reserve is a kind of shield. Deliberately, Gardner’s character too is given a shield, though hers is more flippant and cynical. Both actors fit their roles well. Supporting players are meant to do just that and here they fulfill their roles admirably, especially Harold Warrender (who died at only fifty, a few years later), whose antiquarian provides the sparse narration and the bridge between what the characters see and what is truly occurring.

The direction and cinematography take advantage of the arresting scenery - and the history - of Spain’s northeastern Mediterranean coast. There are a number of intriguing images, making use of buildings, statues, and the vivid blue of the sea and sky.

Pandora and the Flying Dutchman is an excellent modern interpretation of the venerable myth, a fantasy and romance, in which adults act like adults. It’s a film that probably couldn’t be made today: though it did very well at the box-office, it seems like the product of people who wanted to tell a beautiful story, regardless of whether anyone would watch it or not.

(You may note that, bizarrely, the poster takes no advantage of the movie’s Technicolor: the colour image is an artist’s rendering, and the other pictures are in black and white. There is even what looks to be a sketch from the film’s storyboard!)