Ken Russell's overly precious screen version of the D H Lawrence novel "Women in Love" is all tactile sensuality and much naked abandonment, not to mention a hell of a lot of high flautin' dialogue courtesy of producer Larry Kramer. It was a huge hit when it came out, (the nudity may have helped sell it), and won the then unknown Glenda Jackson an Oscar as Best Actress. The problem I have with her, and indeed everyone else for that matter, is they aren't playing flesh and blood people but just aspects of Lawrence. There are several great set-pieces that might convince you that you are watching a real film and it's superbly photographed by Billy Williams but ultimately it's a very patchy piece of work that just doesn't live up to its reputation.
Review of Women in Love
