Kravgi gynaikon (1978) Online

Melina Mercouri plays Maya, a jet-setting Greek actress who returns to her homeland to undertake the role of Medea. Searching for inspiration and clues as to how a mother could kill the children she loves, Maya discovers Brenda (Ellen Burstyn), a bible-spouting American woman serving time in an Athens prison for that very crime. The actress's jail cell meetings with the murderess lead up to the movie's climax -- a gripping, parallel sequence of Maya in rehearsal/performance of the original text in Greek and Brenda's emotional reliving of the horrific night she murdered her babies. This film brings to life the woman-scorned essence and bloody passion at the heart of Medea, awaking a 2,500 year-old classic of dramatic literature.

Perhaps the best film Ellen Burstyn ever did. Mercouri, Dassin, etc., dazzle. The retelling of Medea is unbelievably powerful, astoundingly complex. A classic for the ages, but not a film for airheads. The scenery is breathtaking, particularly the part filmed in an old Greek theatre.

This film which I just saw in early February, 2009, 31 years following its original release has, obviously help up over time. It is an extremely powerful and emotional film ostensibly about the filming of the ancient Greek play of the same name by Euripides. However, there develop subplots which are alluded to earlier, then appear, adding considerable complexity to the story line. The powerful and emotional acting by Mercouri, Burstyn, and the smaller role by Katrakis, all contribute to the whole of this under appreciated film - it should be seen by everyone interested in serious film making. I look forward to seeing it again in the hope of finding even greater nuance in the unraveling of this compelling tale.

I saw this movie many years ago, and cannot forget it. It is one of the most powerful movie about women's lives ever made. Not too many women actually murder their children (thank G-d), but in my opinion that aspect of the story was secondary, it was a specific case used to tell a general, universal story about women's dependence on men, and what it takes for a woman to actually break free of that dependence. The juxtaposition of the starkly choreographed performance of Medea with the ordeal of the American murderess was positively haunting. The scenes of Melina the actress relaxing, bantering with the men in her life provided a mature perspective that lends balance to the whole, and gives the story a sense of permanence and worldliness.

Early on in A Dream of Passion, the embattled Greek diva played by Melina Mercouri is accused of "reducing the tragedy of Medea to the level of Ms. Magazine!" Blindly oblivious to his own warning, writer/director Jules Dassin goes on to do precisely that for the next hour-and-a-half. The result is one of those irresistibly awful films that contrive, somehow, to be more compelling than most good ones.

Returning to her native Greece to shoot a film of Euripides' tragedy, Mercouri's jet-setting grande dame meets and becomes obsessed with a dowdy, Bible-spouting American housewife (Ellen Burstyn) who committed the crime of Medea in real life. In other words, she murdered her three children as a way to punish her unfaithful husband. As the two women meet, merge and swap identities, Dassin tries hard to navigate the tortuously trendy Life-Or-Art labyrinth so beloved of Ingmar Bergman and Carlos Saura.

Unfortunately, Dassin is far too lumpish and literal-minded a director for such high-falutin head games. Mercouri flings herself headlong into her role as a glamorous tragedienne. It is, truly, a piece of Acting in the Grand Manner. Burstyn, predictably, is much more subtle - or about as subtle as a deranged fundamentalist child-murderer can possibly be. Alas, the acting styles of the two ladies are so diametrically opposed, it's impossible to picture them in the same universe, never mind the same film.

No matter. A Dream of Passion did hold me riveted throughout. If only for the mind-blowing, jaw-dropping pretentiousness on display!

See this film. It is provocative. It dares to challenge conventional ideas about womanhood, love, motherhood. It removes a level of denial that keeps us distant from the underlying truths that Greek Tragedy speaks to, especially the tale of Medea.

We live in a society that attempts to dictate and control, through manipulation and legislation, the role of women, to punish women for being visible victims of the hidden agendas of male supremacy and chauvinism. It is a society that sadly fails to understand, much less respect the powerful, passionate love and instincts that inform and drive the feminine half of our humanity. This failure contributes to a degraded quality of life, to the violence and the pain we see around us.

See this film. Mercouri and Burstyn are magnificent, each in her own way. They represent aspects of the feminine goddess, played out through different cultural lenses.

This is a powerful film on many levels. While documenting a re-staging of the Medea story, it contrasts its original 2500-year-old story with a surprising modern parallel story. The film enlivens these two stories by exploring the complex relationships among the principal characters. Anyone interested in an actor's creative process of research and rehearsal will find this film most compelling since it shows the development of the character of Medea not only through traditional classic methods, but surprisingly by showing how unique research and a modern approach to character development — less is more — can leave an audience breathless. The title alludes to Hamlet's mussing soliloquy about the Principal Player's commitment to performing Hecuba. The film is filled with visually memorable moments in the ancient Greek Theatre at Epidauros together with stunning moments of movie camera magic.

Melina Mercouri and Ellen Burstyn as two sides of an unlikely coin: Mercouri as an actress preparing to play the lead in a Greek stage production of "Medea" (who spites her cheating husband by murdering their children) and Burstyn an American woman jailed in Greece after killing her kids. Rough-hewn production with some florid, off-putting acting and a less-than-rousing script by Jules Dassin, who also directed. Was Dassin attempting a match of wits between the ladies, or a Bergman-esque study in contrast? Either way, the film has no driving force beyond the footlights, and is marred by poor cinematography and color. Select audiences may be willing to go out on a limb with this material, and indeed portions of the picture are arresting or disturbing. *1/2 from ****