Relaxed censorship was reason enough to have a pass at this - a kitchen sink realism type tale was fine. And some of this was effective - the Dublin locations, stylish photography, Laurence Harvey gives one of his best performances (he holds himself in check).
But I think they picked the wrong original director, Henry Hathaway, and the wrong replacement, Ken Hughes. Neither had much luck with women stars and/or tales of romantic obsession. I guess Hathaway had Niagara but that had a murder. Hughes had Oscar Wilde but that had a trial.
And they had Kim Novak, who is clearly trying but isn't up to it. She's too old and just feels wrong for the role.
The DNA of this piece is the relationship between her and Harvey - he gets obsessed, she doesn't feel the same way but she's honest about it.
Strong support cast, including Roger Livesey (looking old but the voice is unmistakeable), a sweet Nanette Newman (whose husband Bryan Forbes wrote the script and was meant to have played a role but I can't see him in it), Robert Morley.
Not a disaster, not a terrible movie, just one that doesn't get the core of the story. As a result it ambles and drags without heart.
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