When actors look back on their life's work, there will be film that they will wonder why they ever agreed to be part of it.
I suspect that this might be the case with this film for two very fine and talented actors. Sean Connery and Joanne Woodward.
The central premise of a self centred, self obsessed, wife abusing poet called Samson being chased for various reasons by various people and creating havoc is a limp plot. Even for the 1960's.
As usual Sean Connery plays Sean Connery, but without his usual charismatic charm. Joanne Woodward's shrill whine becomes annoying after ten minutes of listening to it, and the supporting actors all look slightly embarrassed, as if the director just said, "Go for it, we've got James Bond, so it should be a hit." Not even a slightly good film, not even slightly a bad film, just an appallingly terrible film.
I suspect that this might be the case with this film for two very fine and talented actors. Sean Connery and Joanne Woodward.
The central premise of a self centred, self obsessed, wife abusing poet called Samson being chased for various reasons by various people and creating havoc is a limp plot. Even for the 1960's.
As usual Sean Connery plays Sean Connery, but without his usual charismatic charm. Joanne Woodward's shrill whine becomes annoying after ten minutes of listening to it, and the supporting actors all look slightly embarrassed, as if the director just said, "Go for it, we've got James Bond, so it should be a hit." Not even a slightly good film, not even slightly a bad film, just an appallingly terrible film.