This is the sort of movie the critics love, but it's not one that particularly appeals to me. My guess is that the original novel, "A Jest of God", was probably a lot more ironical and bitter than this soft, misty-eyed all-the-way with Joanne Woodward version, indulgently directed with more close-ups than a TV soapy, by husband, Paul Newman. Still, within its limits, the direction is occasionally rather stylish. And the film is attractively photographed on some occasionally effective locations. But somewhat disappointingly, the music score by Jerome Moross is both uncharacteristic and unobtrusive. The Geraldine Fitzgerald sequence seems to have nothing to do with the rest of the movie and is an embarrassment that should have been left on the cutting room floor. Otherwise, the movie is reasonably effective within its limits.
Review of Rachel, Rachel
