Whenever it's on, I can't resist. It shouldn't work as a movie, but it works perfectly. Channing and Sutherland are terrific together, Channing never better in a role that she minted, and re-minted; the the art direction is remarkably vivid (that odd red penthouse, a location not a set), as is the film's blase ability to capture a particularly rarefied sliver of Manhattan life so effortlessly.
And now we have a meta experience: Ian McKellen's character also desperately wants to be in the Sydney Poitier film of "Cats," the era-specific running joke, and of course, Sir Ian ended up in ... I don't need to finish the thought. |
