A tale of a philosophical womanizer who is forced to question his seemingly carefree existence.
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Reviews
CinemaSerf
7
By CinemaSerf
Michael Caine is a bit too convincing as the sleazy, London man-about-town who only cares about having a beautiful girl on his arm (and in his bed). It isn't so much that he's a misogynist, more that sees women in only one linear fashion and as he has no use for them - or anyone else, for that matter, unless it is for his own immediate gratification. The narrative of the film takes us on his slow journey of self-realisation; he starts to comprehend the shallowness of his existence and embarks on his own yellow brick road to maturity. There are some great supporting contributions from Shelley Winters and Denholm Elliott and a cast of glamorous 1960s British models to lend credence to his hedonistic lifestyle. It is hard to watch 50-odd years later; the character is so odious - but that is testament to good acting and a novel - intimate - creative style of directing from Lewis Gilbert. Sonny Rollins turns out a great score too.
