Amor Daquele Jeito

As far as pairings of Joanne Woodward and husband Paul Newman go, "A New Kind of Love" lacks the snappy plot and dramatic depth necessary to do its leading actors justice. Woodward steals the show as Sam, a homely and somewhat androgynous fashion designer often mistaken for a man (it's the pageboy haircut and constantly smoldering cigarette in her mouth); Newman is aesthetically pleasing (and alarmingly convincing) in the role of handsome, sarcastic Steve, a New York journalist who pursues more young women than hot story leads.

After an initial awkward opening sequence, the first forty or so minutes of the film are stimulating, with intriguing color schemes and costumes, quick wit and acerbic dialogue, beautiful Parisian scenery and an escalating plot line. Beyond that, however, the plot seems to drag, and frequent unnecessary departures are made from it - the musical montage with Maurice Chevalier, for instance, slows the film down and only serves to severely date the film (not to mention alienate any viewer who is clueless as to who, exactly, Maurice Chevalier is.) Some scenes are played out far beyond their initial artistic effect (the split-screen sequences), while others are confusing and impede the general flow of the storyline (Steve's visions of bawdy tales played out like sports), giving the story an air of ridiculousness instead of credibility.

All in all, this light comedy shines with the sheer romantic energy of Newman and Woodward (I found myself re-watching various parts of the film just to marvel at the undeniable chemistry between the two), but has none of the lasting impact of the pair's other films. It leaves one feeling a bit unsated, perhaps because of the overly-muddled plot that seems to have been convoluted merely to stretch the movie into a 90-minute romp - but the beautiful Woodward sparkles with natural talent, and Newman's on screen presence compliments hers seemingly without effort. Fans of Paul and Joanne will be charmed, but not moved, by this New Kind of Love.

Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were certainly in love with Paris :after "Paris Blues" ,"A new kind of love" !(French title : "the girl with the cap"!)But if you love Paris ,you'd better choose "An American in Paris" or "Funny Face" provided you like musicals of course.Anyway "a new...." has Maurice Chevalier,in the flesh,playing himself,singing a little tune.

"A new..." is a dreadful hodge-podge of clichés about Paris and its fashion,postcard style pictures ,and even Sainte-Catherine celebration,which will seem obsolete even to today's French audience.The plot is completely devoid of interest:Newman is a journalist and a lady killer who has been sent to Paris cause he has slept with his boss's wife.Woodward is some kind of fashion Mata-Hari.As far as she is concerned,she is much more attractive dressed up as a tomboy than when she is wearing these horrible wigs.And Thelma Ritter would like to have an onion soup in Les Halles -which were demolished since- with her colleague who does not take any notice of her and her burning love.

Worst scene:Newman taking Woodward he mistakes for a Fille de Joie to the Sacre Coeur so she can redeem her soul .

Newman and Woodward are excellent actors: elsewhere!

"A New Kind of Love" is a genuinely bad film--something you'd never expect considering it stars Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. Additionally, having Thelma Ritter for support would also seem to guarantee a much better film. However, despite the talent, the film is terrible--with only a few moments here or there that rise above the rest. The bottom line is that if you have a badly written film, even top stars won't save it.

Paul Newman's character is a HUGE part of the problem. While he's supposed to be a bright and talented newspaper man, he's mostly just a horny guy who spends most of his time chasing women. This is very one-dimensional and makes him hard to like. As for Woodward, she is more interesting--a scared woman who makes herself look far less attractive because of her fears. However, after getting herself a makeover when she's in Paris, he sees her and thinks she's a prostitute--a very expensive prostitute--and that intrigues him. Does any of this sound the least bit romantic? And, does it seem very funny? If your answer to both is 'no', then you see why the film has a lot of problems. All in all, a very disappointing and unfunny movie.

By the way, there really is a Festival of St. Catherines and women really do such silly hats. I assume, however, that most parties for St. Catherines did not involve having Maurice Chevalier showing up to entertain!

Writer/director Shavelson treads Billy Wilder territory with this Paris-set romantic comedy; nevertheless, he’s more successful penning witty dialogue (making him something of an underrated figure in this genre) than concocting funny situations (which, in spite – or because – of their satirical/fanciful bent come across as heavy-handed most of the time).

Still, it was refreshing to watch the Newmans letting their hair down (incidentally, the couple’s previous stint in the French capital – in Paris BLUES [1961], with which I actually preceded this viewing – had been of a more serious nature): Joanne Woodward, especially, demonstrated a lighter side which has rarely been exploited (and earned a Golden Globe nod in the process)…though she seemed much more at ease playing the tomboyish fashion designer than the tale-spinning high-class ‘broad’.

At 110 minutes, the film eventually wears thin – but the colorful scenery, a nice title tune (sung by Frank Sinatra, no less) and the supporting cast (including Thelma Ritter, George Tobias and Marvin Kaplan, not to mention a fun guest appearance by Maurice Chevalier as himself) ensure that a generally pleasant (albeit forgettable) time is had by all. For what it’s worth, looking up the film in a book my father has on Newman (written by Michael Kerbel), it’s stated that A NEW KIND OF LOVE was “Newman’s worst film” and his career nadir; while that might be too harsh a judgment, I have to say that I am quite fond of Newman’s previous and subsequent comic efforts – respectively Leo McCarey’s RALLY ‘ROUND THE FLAG, BOYS! (1958) and J. Lee Thompson’s star-studded WHAT A WAY TO GO! (1964) – both of which I’ve just acquired following the actor’s demise…

1963 lay somewhere between Ozzie and Harriet and Janice Joplin and this movie was raunchy "adult fare" for the time but sanitized. The characters couldn't say "virgin" but did say "maiden", couldn't even say "prostitute" but could say it in French ("fille de joie" or something). If you can imagine Paul Newman as a rakish cad who writes Beaudelaire verses on the bare bottoms of his nightly conquests and his real-life partner Joanne Woodward as a dike dress-designer turned tender hearted and vulnerable real woman posing as a prostitute after praying to St. Catherine, then you have a greater (much) ability to suspend disbelief than I do. Badly miscast leads, especially Woodward, despite one sexy scene in a teddy at the end. Otherwise, enjoy Paris, enjoy 60's color, and 60's sophistication and pretend that you are sneaking a look at the naughty movie that your parents wouldn't want you to see.