Sweet William

I've just found this again on a video tape and have really enjoyed it. OK it's slightly dated (especially in some of Jenny Agutter's dresses) and it's firmly in the genre of the British 'kitchen-sink' dramas of the early 1960s, but it's well worth watching.

Jenny Agutter does a tour-de-force with some brilliant and totally believable acting (the occasional and far too brief nude scenes are a bonus). Sam Waterston is equally believable as charming rogue William who neglects to tell his various conquests of his various other conquests and wives.

The twist at the very end throws a different light on much of what has gone before (and you have to watch very closely to see it!).

This should be re-released on DVD so that everyone has a chance to give it a second look. It stands the test of time well.

If you've never seen Sam Waterston in the movies or television and are thinking of trying him out in Sweet William, try a different movie. Deviating from a career filled with good-guy roles, he takes a rare villainous role in this movie, and it might leave a bad taste in your mouth if you've never seen him before. Then again, if you have seen him play his usual roles, you'll probably think the casting director for this film was cuckoo for casting Sam as a bad guy. Either way, there's really only one good reason to sit through Sweet William.

If you're a man-hater to and through your core, you will want to watch this one. Beryl Bainbridge has written the most jaded, bitter, cynical script I've ever seen; one can only imagine her own heartache that made her feel the need to write something like this. The film reeks of angry estrogen, and if you're not on board with that right away, you're not going to like it.

Jenny Agutter stars as an engaged woman, but the moment her fiancé leaves for America on a business trip, she lets herself get picked up by a total stranger, Sam Waterston, while attending a church recital. It's pretty absurd, especially because he's obviously flaky, careless, and a player, but she falls for him immediately. She even locks her best friend, Geraldine James, in the bathroom when Sam shows up at her apartment in the middle of the night, so they can consummate their budding relationship. He turns her into a pathetic mess, even though she and the audience are continually exposed to his womanizing, hurtful, confusing behavior. He's written out to be everything man-haters hate in men. Anyone who won't cheer and get a little thrill every time Man shows his true colors won't want to watch this movie.

This could easily have been a passable drama, with the inestimable Jenny Agutter only vaguely evoking fluffier roles.

However, Sam Waterston's rendition of a Scottish accent is among the most gloriously inept ever barely mustered. Perhaps admirably, he decides to under-do it, but to the point of basically forgetting.

It's so laughably bad as to be utterly distracting: you can hardly pay attention for wondering why the story needs his character to be Scottish at all.

I wondered if the jarring incongruity was supposed to be some kind of crap metaphor for, or parallel to, his transparent duplicity, and all the English characters were pretending not to notice for some reason. As it turns out, the English *actors* were pretending not to notice, which ultimately ups the crap stakes considerably.

Maybe there are so few non-native actors who can actually pull it off, casting directors can't concern themselves with such minor details. Or maybe they just have no ear for it, like an A&R rep who thinks Pat Boone's "Enter Sandman" is the original version. And by Metallica.

"She cannat take much morrrrrrre, captain!"