When a deported gangster dies in Italy, the U.S. Treasury Department is very interested in the one million dollars Madigan owed the government, but managed to take to Italy with him. They ... See full summary »
A fictional account of the real life, eleven day, never explained 1926 disappearance of famed murder mystery writer Agatha Christie is presented. On a cold winter day, her damaged car with ... See full summary »
Charley is a surgeon who's recently lost his wife. He embarks on a tragicomic romantic quest with one woman after another until he meets up with Ann, a singular woman, closer to his own age... See full summary »
It's the morning after John and Mary's first sexual encounter with each other, which took place in his New York City loft apartment. They had only met for the first time the previous evening at a crowded trendy pick-up bar. They are both uncomfortable with the situation but don't want to show that discomfort to the other. They both realize that they don't know anything substantial about the other - including not even knowing each other's name - as each tries through whatever secret means to find out with who he/she just slept. As they slowly find out more about the other, they inject their own perception into the information, which is sometimes not quite reality. Over the next few hours, they, together and individually, will try to determine if there is any potential future for them, which includes their thoughts about the current most significant other in their respective lives, one who is more significant than the other, and their feelings about what they think the other person is ...Written by
When Ruth Gordon won her Best Actress in a Supporting Role Oscar for Rosemary's Baby (1968) in April 1969, she was asked backstage by the reporters if Mia Farrow was upset at being overlooked for a nomination in the same film. "Nahhh", Gordon replied, "Besides she'll win it next year for John and Mary (1969)." Alas, Farrow was snubbed for this film as well. See more »
I don't want anymore to do with it. Not with jealousy, competition, the sound of bugles when we're all meant to line up for battle. When the bugle blows, I want to go home quietly. Lock the door, take off the telephone. I'll wash my hair, watch the saturday night movie and go to bed with a plate of cornflakes. I can do that most efficiently. I can vanish.
See more »