richteral

So when you miscast the leading couple, the rest is a foregone conclusion. Mr. Cranston seems to suffer through the proceedings, and as he leads, the others follow. It is as if he were pushed from start to finish, without being able to develop any pull at all. There is no scintillating chemistry between him and the young would-be flame, and their scenes carry the malodorous scent of Hollywood kabuki. A movie for movie´s sake? Just about so.

Since there seems to be a requirement that the review be at least ten lines long, and since there is absolutely nothing anyone ought to write or say about this film, before I come to the single-word conclusion, which is more than is needed to assess the result of some awful waste of money, time, and even possibly talent in places, although it would be very difficult to ascertain where exactly that talent were to be found if one discounted the obvious life-time merits of M. Belmondo and how great he used to be in earlier times, despite his starring in some fairly mediocre fare as well as in evergreens that shall never perish, I am pressed to exercise some verbosity before coming with the inevitable: Unbearable. And there you have it.