Diary of a Chambermaid is an odd, haunting film in which the whole is unfortunately less than the sum of its parts. It's like a stew in which all the individual ingredients resolutely remain separate, their strong flavors fighting against each other and never combining to create one united flavor. Thus, we have Jean Renoir and Burgess Meredith's skillful, intelligent, and insightful screenplay, which has numerous dramatic high points, a great deal to say about the human condition, and a number of finely etched character portraits. Bringing those portraits to life is a talented cast, headed by Paulette Goddard, whose work is surprisingly nuanced and carefully detailed. Judith Anderson is appropriately imposing yet displays her character's weakness in a manner that is appealing without inspiring misplaced sympathy. Francis Lederer is intensely powerful, Irene Ryan a sweet delight, and Burgess Meredith a wonderfully daft breath of fresh air. Yet, as good as they are, only Meredith (fully) and Ryan (partially) actually seem to be really "in tune" with the screenplay, perhaps because the screenplay asks that their characters be presented in a somewhat artificial manner. The rest of the cast, for all their skill, don't seem to be natural; they're off, only by a degree or two, but it's enough to make a tremendous difference. Part of the blame goes to Renoir, whose direction is solid but unable to accomplish the crucial task of bringing all the parts together. The result is a near-miss, but one that's undeniably fascinating -- in parts.