I managed to avoid reading Hemingway in college. From what I could tell, along with his reductivist verbiage, he offered reductivist story lines. This film-transfiguration of AF2A into a simplistic, hoary, belabored narrative, does not disabuse me of my suspicions: A guy who barely sees action on the European battlefield (Hudson) falls in with a nurse (Jones), and they conspire to spend time together. Hemingway's big contribution to narrative was the romantic travelogue? Who knows what these two lovers have in common? They're so utterly generic. The movie never even brings up the utter irresponsibility it takes to abandon the front in favor of a lovers' adventure. The two have a season on the Alps, straight out of a J. Crew catalog. A number of better scenes are undermined by corny, conventional melodrama elsewhere. The movie keeps piling on tiny, improbable, unspecific details that fight the epic treatment. The cavernous hospital that Miss Barkley works in is virtually empty, so that no secondary plot line can possibly distract from the flimsy main story. Complicated, it is not.

The camera work is better than average, with some amazing location photography. Director Charles Vidor (or maybe Huston?) does striking things in the first hour with an on-location, wide-screen camera... there are no second unit cop-outs. Vidor shows massive, panoramic tableaux, pans over a line of hundreds of soldiers trooping through the mountains; and then with a 90 degree swivel of his camera catches up with Hudson's ambulance barreling down on him.

Hudson looks great. He's a better actor than he gets credit for, but with unshaped material like this, he can become very mechanical. Mercedes McCambridge plays a one-dimensional shrew. Jennifer Jones is puffy and miscast in the lackluster female lead. The movie is best when she's off screen. The love scenes are about as affecting as a coffee commercial.