Stars Ruth Gordon (who should have won an Oscar, and before this also had a most interesting career as a writer of such things as the Tracy / Hepburn Pat and Mike), Bud Cort, Vivian Pickles (who made me laugh every time she appeared), Cyril Cusack (for literally about 10 seconds) and Tom Skerritt (motorcycle cop). Pickles was also in O Lucky Man and Sunday Bloody Sunday amongst many other screen and stage appearances.
Photographed in wonderful, painterly melancholy shades by John A. Alonzo.
From the most interesting period of American films, the last Golden Age, with echoes of the French New Wave. It pisses all over most of today's indies, although it was actually a studio picture, one of many interesting films made for Paramount in the seventies.
Bud Cort, Ruth Gordon |
Bud Cort, Vivian Pickles |
That we see only for a split second a concentration camp tattoo on Gordon's hand is a wonderful detail, though for me the only criticism of the film is that such a survivor and lover of life wouldn't kill herself.
When Gordon throws away the gift, Cort looks genuinely surpised as though it was improvised.
You can bet former editor Ashby was much involved in cutting of this film, which bears his hallmark eccentricity.
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