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Entrou em jul. de 2001
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Selos28
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Avaliações22,1 mil
Classificação de lor_
A lesser vehicle for David Niven, "Breakfast in Bed" is a tired and tiresome little 1950s sitcom wasting his talent, along with that of co-stars Gloria Talbott and Barbara Billingsley.
The script by Muriel Roy Boulton (who wrote the classic film noir "My Name Is Julia Ross") is strictly hackwork, with Niven playing a 37-year-old advertising illustrator married to Billingsly who takes up with wide-eyed model Gloria Talbott as his muse.
Convincing him that he should aspire to fine art rather than commercial advertising gigs, she threatens to break up his marriage, but Billingsley eventually triumphs in keeping Niven after a ridiculous plot twist and unfunny dialogue proves that being square and NOT following one's dream is the right way to contentment. It's a truly '50s cynical point-of-view, obviously intended to make the show's sponsors feel good.
The script by Muriel Roy Boulton (who wrote the classic film noir "My Name Is Julia Ross") is strictly hackwork, with Niven playing a 37-year-old advertising illustrator married to Billingsly who takes up with wide-eyed model Gloria Talbott as his muse.
Convincing him that he should aspire to fine art rather than commercial advertising gigs, she threatens to break up his marriage, but Billingsley eventually triumphs in keeping Niven after a ridiculous plot twist and unfunny dialogue proves that being square and NOT following one's dream is the right way to contentment. It's a truly '50s cynical point-of-view, obviously intended to make the show's sponsors feel good.
A wonderful couple, Olive Glass and Diana Grace, are utterly convincing in this simple tale of friends becoming lovers. It's a lovely, live-affirming Allherluv release.
The pals book an airbnb rental for the weekend, but are surprised upon arrival when instead of the two bedrooms advertised, there's only one, with just one bed. Olive complains on the phone, but the renter just hangs up on her.
It develops very naturally that when bedtime comes after supper the two women seamlessly decide to make love in their shared bed. Olive is a lesbian, but she plays hard to get when BFF Diana comes on to her, horny after a breakup with her boyfriend. Their longtime familiarity and comfort with each other makes the scene play realistically.
Fans will also get to see natural beauty Olive without her trademark braces, a welcome change for the mature actress.
The pals book an airbnb rental for the weekend, but are surprised upon arrival when instead of the two bedrooms advertised, there's only one, with just one bed. Olive complains on the phone, but the renter just hangs up on her.
It develops very naturally that when bedtime comes after supper the two women seamlessly decide to make love in their shared bed. Olive is a lesbian, but she plays hard to get when BFF Diana comes on to her, horny after a breakup with her boyfriend. Their longtime familiarity and comfort with each other makes the scene play realistically.
Fans will also get to see natural beauty Olive without her trademark braces, a welcome change for the mature actress.
Despite Ray Bradbury's reputation as a great writer, this story of his is utter swill. Without his big name, any publisher would have rejected it for publication, let alone television adaptation, out of hand.
One has to sit through a half-hour (including commercial breaks) of overacting and an idiotic story premise that leads to a true groaner of an ending. Barry Morse plays a psychotic retiree who is convinced of a preposterous conspiracy theory about human behavior: that at 102 degrees (Fahrenheit) humans reach a boiling point to commit murder.
With his fellow reitree Shaw (Joseph Shaw in a completely extraneous role) he seeks to "save" ornery midde-aged lady Eileen Brennan from becoming an "irritable murder" victim based on observing how she's mean and argumentative with everyone she meets. The way he mistreats her while trying to convince her he's trying to help is literally unwatchable, anti-entertainment at its mindless worst.
Bradbury treats his viewers like idiots in what amounts to a facsimile of Theater of the Absurd, but without any creativity here.
One has to sit through a half-hour (including commercial breaks) of overacting and an idiotic story premise that leads to a true groaner of an ending. Barry Morse plays a psychotic retiree who is convinced of a preposterous conspiracy theory about human behavior: that at 102 degrees (Fahrenheit) humans reach a boiling point to commit murder.
With his fellow reitree Shaw (Joseph Shaw in a completely extraneous role) he seeks to "save" ornery midde-aged lady Eileen Brennan from becoming an "irritable murder" victim based on observing how she's mean and argumentative with everyone she meets. The way he mistreats her while trying to convince her he's trying to help is literally unwatchable, anti-entertainment at its mindless worst.
Bradbury treats his viewers like idiots in what amounts to a facsimile of Theater of the Absurd, but without any creativity here.
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