A case of a movie trapped by its own devices. In spite of such visual ploys as the sepia flashbacks and the mellow brown-red color scheme, this all-talk movie doesn't disguise, but even flaunts, its theatrical origins: both the intermittent presence of Trevor Howard as a sort of BBC "host" and the excessive use of direct address to the audience lack the same conversational intimacy on screen as on stage. The storyline, such as it is, is straight oral biography, and it works best as an appetite-whetting introduction to the eccentric life of British poet Stevie Smith, played by Glenda Jackson, who always seems to be saying mouthfuls. Mona Washbourne, as her fuddy-duddy suburban aunt, does better with the movie's few speakable lines: "Pancho Gonzalez is doing well. He's into the quarters." Or another one, spoken twice: "I'll just go and prod the joint. Mint sauce or red currant jelly?" Directed by Robert Enders. (1978) — Duncan Shepherd
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