Almost every move and thought of the main character (Guilieta Masina) is commented on by a hardly uninterrupted interior monologue that makes this film more into an audioplay than a film and very estranging viewing. What could have the makers be thinking of achieving by this?
The producer had the great idea to let the talented Duvivier direct, but what for?; one feels clearly that Duvivier had no affinity with the subject. What was probably supposed to be a satire on the "position of women" towards men and love, has become a dull story with an appalling moral.
Masina hardly seems at ease in this deathly film, that only comes a bit alive in a short scene with Rudolf Platte (who else?).
6 of 6 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful to you?