At first, Sarno's detached, ironic melodramatic style, which so perfectly fit his exposés of early 60s suburbia, may seem to be sappy and anachronistic in the more free-wheeling late 60s milieu of his Swedish period -- the bland pop music and candy colored photography replacing the expressive jazz and stark b&w of his earlier period. Nonetheless, he was still a master of gradually building psychological tensions to explosive (and often very nasty) climaxes, as is the case here. Thankfully, he resorts to his patented driving bongo music and artful chiaroscuro lighting during the two key erotic/dramatic scenes in this one, undercutting the softness of the earlier sequences. Stick with it and you will be impressed.
Review of Daddy, Darling
