Directed by Edward Dmytrck, and starring Gregory Peck, Diane Baker, and Walter Matthau, including great photo work in 1965 New York City, you might well ask how can this film be so bad?
Well, here's how.
The screen-writing.
The story defies belief. In fact even at the film's end, when it's all been explained (contrived though it is) we still don't believe. Or fully understand. Gregory Peck suddenly, and without explanation, realizes he's been suffering from partial amnesia for two years. Or two days. He's not sure. And if he can't tell the difference how can we be expected to have an opinion? There's a femme-fatale (Baker) who may or may not be on his side (I still don't know for sure), a private eye (Matthau) who is on his first case. There is Jack Weston as hired killer (can you imagine?) and the most inappropriate Quincy Jones soundtrack you can imagine.
I first saw this film when I was 22 years old. I'm 76 now and saw it again this week. I disliked it then. But more-so now.
Well, here's how.
The screen-writing.
The story defies belief. In fact even at the film's end, when it's all been explained (contrived though it is) we still don't believe. Or fully understand. Gregory Peck suddenly, and without explanation, realizes he's been suffering from partial amnesia for two years. Or two days. He's not sure. And if he can't tell the difference how can we be expected to have an opinion? There's a femme-fatale (Baker) who may or may not be on his side (I still don't know for sure), a private eye (Matthau) who is on his first case. There is Jack Weston as hired killer (can you imagine?) and the most inappropriate Quincy Jones soundtrack you can imagine.
I first saw this film when I was 22 years old. I'm 76 now and saw it again this week. I disliked it then. But more-so now.