Whatever happened to the Maggie Smith who used to score heavily, but surreptitiously, in humble supporting roles? Having collected an Oscar for her worst screen performance as Jean Brodie, here returns worse yet, matching the George Cukor decors in gaudiness, tossing around gestures faster than the eye can follow. The Grahame Greene story, about a dauntless adventuress who teaches a constipated British gentleman to open his arms to Life, is told so that the audience remains ten yards ahead of every astonishing revelation. Two flashbacks almost save everything with romanticism so delirious that it's hard to keep your mouth from falling open. (1972)
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