Pretentious, overrated drama that has aged about as well as the Mod movement it claims to portray. Christie is good (though this isn’t the film she deserved an Oscar for) but Schlesinger is not the director this film needed. John Dankworth’s score is perhaps the best thing about the film in the lens of posterity. David Thomson perhaps sums it up best, stating the film “deserves a place in every archive to show how rapidly modishness withers.” It could have been worse; the filmmakers could have gone with their first choice, Shirley McLaine, and this would have been a miscast disaster instead of a period curiosity.
Christie’s narration is a prime example of the untrustworthy narrator; worldweary voice blaming all others without admitting the truth that’s she an amoral whore. Making her the heroine only ensures he film is a tiresome slog. I know subtitle are hard, but go watch a Godard or Antonioni film instead of this wannabe.