It always amazes me that some critics will give a movie a rave review and then reward it with a score of seven out of ten. When I went to school, seven was the lowest mark you could achieve without being punished. It is not a good mark at all. But I would give this movie only five. Despite good acting and pleasing photography, it's something of a bore - thanks mostly to Gregory Ratoff's plodding direction of an equally uninspired script by George Bruce that was worked up by Bruce himself and Howard Estabrook from the once-very-popular Dumas novel. Drastic cutting would have helped considerably, but neither the supervising editor, Grant Whytock, nor his offsider, William Claxton, took that measure. A disappointingly banal music score by Dimitri Tiomkin doesn't help either.
Review of The Corsican Brothers
