Lindsay Anderson in an autumnal mood, apparently in imitation of or homage to his idolized John Ford, with old Harry Carey, Jr., popping in momentarily to ram the point home. It was a lovely thought, a generous thought, possibly too selfless a thought, to team up Lillian Gish and Bette Davis, two of the very greatest actresses in the history of the American screen -- a soberly considered judgment that should remain sound no matter how long that history lasts. But both of them are too far past their prime -- by a combined total of anywhere from four to eight decades -- to make the most of it. And their strain and slowness -- especially Davis's -- add undue emphasis to a negligible stage play by David Berry. With Vincent Price and Ann Sothern. (1987) — Duncan Shepherd
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