Two post-WWII Manhattan sophisticates who travel to avoid standing still embark on a soul-searching expedition into the Sahara Desert, where the beautiful but desolate landscapes provide a mirror to their own troubled relationship. The film is nothing if not exotic, presenting some of the purest visions of the desert since Peter O'Toole first rode a camel in 'Lawrence of Arabia'. But the scenario works best when presented as an ethnic travelogue, ushering viewers into an utterly foreign world. The messy marital plot conflicts are, by comparison, all rather vague, especially after Debra Winger goes native in a Bedouin harem. The story never really finds an ending, because there isn't anything to resolve: the characters all exist in a (handsomely photographed) vacuum, and their motivations are even more mysterious than the Arab culture surrounding them. The intrusive (and, as usual, unnecessary) voice-over narration is by novelist Paul Bowles himself, briefly glimpsed in the film's opening scenes.
Review of The Sheltering Sky
