Review: Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

A vicious, constantly bickering middle-aged couple (Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor) invite a younger couple (George Segal and alcoholic young wife Sandy Dennis) over one night, and for the rest of the film we are witness to some of the most vindictive, sick mind games and unpleasant revelations you are likely to hear.

 

Extremely effective, claustrophobic 1966 directorial debut from Mike Nichols (“The Graduate”, “Carnal Knowledge”) is clearly derived from the stage, but you won’t care. You’ll have hardly enough time to breathe, let alone process thought. It might be over-the-top, it may be full of ghastly characters, but it sure ain’t boring, and no one holds back here. Even the language is saltier than most films up to this point.

 

Burton is pitch-perfect and Taylor seems to be doing a latter day Shelley Winters doing Bette Davis (and that’s a compliment), although one could argue that she’s also playing herself. Segal is underrated in a poor part, and Dennis is appropriately pathetic in her signature role.

 

Probably Nichols’ best film, he essentially repeated it in “Carnal Knowledge” and especially the overrated “Closer”, some 20 years later. The screenplay is by Ernest Lehman (“North By Northwest”, “The Sweet Smell of Success”) from the Edward Albee play. Top black and white cinematography by Haskell Wexler (“Medium Cool”, “In the Heat of the Night”, “Coming Home”) hardly photographs anyone flatteringly (appropriately), hence why he was likely asked to replace the original cinematographer Harry Stradling (“Jamaica Inn”, “Song of Love”) during production.

 

Rating: B+