After making a huge splash
in the ’60s, thanks to Mary Poppins
(1964) and The Sound of Music (1965),
actress Julie Andrews mostly sat out the ’70s, appearing in just three movies
that decade—all of which were directed by her husband, Blake Edwards.
Interestingly, each of these pictures attempts to inject overt
sexuality into Andrews’ wholesome image. Darling
Lili (1970) overreaches by casting Andrews as a World War I femme fatale,
and 1o (1979) boldly features Andrews
as an aging beauty whose lover is tempted by a much younger woman. The role
Andrews plays in The Tamarind Seed
falls between these extremes, and the middle ground suits her talents well.
Adapted by Edwards
from a novel by Evelyn Anthony, The
Tamarind Seed concerns average Englishwoman Judith Farrow (Andrews), who
works as a secretary for an office of British Intelligence. While on vacation in
the Caribbean, Judith is approached by suave Russian Feodor Sverdiov (Omar
Sharif), who expresses romantic interest. Suspicious that he’s playing her for
access to sensitive government information, Judith resists Feodor’s
advances—only to have Feodor blithely admit that he was in fact tasked with
seducing her. The twist, he says, is that he’s grown genuinely fond of her and
wants to pursue a relationship despite the complications. Surprising herself,
Judith accepts the overture and tries to make things work, even as spymasters
from the UK and the USSR monitor the couple’s courtship as if it’s an ongoing international
incident.
Although the movie is ultimately a bit of a muddle, since Edwards can’t fully
decide whether the film is a romance with an espionage backdrop or a spy story
with a romantic backdrop, The Tamarind
Seed has many virtues. The production is as lush as that of a 007 movie,
right down to the participation of Bond regulars John Barry (composer) and
Maurice Binder (title-sequence designer). Andrews gives a more credible turn as
a cynical grown-up than you might expect, and it’s a startling to see Mary
Poppins strolling around in a bikini. Sharif does his usual smug-stud routine,
casually issuing such insulting lines as, “You don’t know how charming it is to
meet an intelligent woman who does stupid things.”
Better still, Edwards
populates the supporting cast with fine actors including Dan O’Herlihy and
Anthony Quayle, who do what they can to energize confusing subplots about double-crosses
and moles and, surprisingly, an intelligence operative trying to keep his homosexuality
secret. Quayle’s character sums up the whole distrustful milieu with a pithy
monologue: “My line of business has taught me three things—no one’s to be
trusted, nothing is to be believed, and anyone is capable of doing anything.”
The Tamarind Seed gets mired in lots of
repetitive material, from long scenes of Andrews and Sharif debating politics
in exotic locations to quick vignettes during which high-ranking officials capriciously
decide the fates of their underlings. It’s all quite sophisticated, but also
sterile and, particularly in the realm of dialogue, pretentious. The movie is
more rewarding than it is frustrating, but it’s a close call.
The Tamarind Seed: FUNKY
