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Of all the adaptations of books by Alistair MacLean, I feel that this qualifies as the worst, but don´t blame MacLean!. It would appear that all that this film shares with the novel is the same title. We have no suspense, no sense of foreboding of mystery, no chance to really empathize with the main characters. We spend the entire duration (or at least I did) waiting for Charlotte Rampling to shed her clothing (for Charlotte, this appears to take a remarkably long time!). Still, a glimpse of Charlotte Rampling´s tits really can´t save this disastrous film. MacLean has once again been kicked into the gutter to endure the sniping of those bitter hacks and nit-pickers who would appear to blame him for all the ills that befall attempted filming of his books. Poor old Alistair must have crawled into a corner and whimpered when this one came out. At least "Bear Island" - which also uses the Maclean name but apparently none of his novel - was a LITTLE exciting. The excitement here is in waiting for the final credits.
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