This nineteen sixty five offering from Norman Jewison violates two very sensible rules of film making. The first is that if you are going to set a movie in Paris (or New Orleans, San Francisco and Hawaii) then you had best shoot it there and not, as here, on the Universal back lot. The other is that if it is a screenplay by Carl Reiner then it should have at least some intermittent laughter. There was none, at least in the twenty minutes I spent before pulling the plug on this hearty, mirthless dog. Unless, that is, your funny bone is aroused by delicatessen owners complaining of gas and an art dealer telling an employee to shut up. And the cinematography by Russell Metty is among the most undistinguished of that fine DP's long career. Solid C.
Review of The Art of Love
