One of those adaptations of sexy best sellers you had in the 50s and 60s. The ingredients are there for some pulpy fun - there's adultery, prostitutes, fraud, suicide, a rape allegation - but the film doesn't click.
Some people feel perfectly cast - Lana Turner (though her character doesn't have much to do, which is probably why she asked for so many changes) and George Hamilton (horny spoilt brat). Susan Kohner is fine. These feel like they belong in this movie.
But this isn't John Sturges' sort of material. Nor is it Walter Mirisch's - it needed a Ross Hunter. Or Delmer Daves in his Troy Donahue mode.
It isn't sufficiently glamorous - not enough attention has been paid to clothes. The central character is actually Effrem Zimbalist Jnr who is bland - torn men can be interesting as shown by Gregory Peck but Zimbalist doesn't have It. Jason Robarts feels under utilised. Ditto Barbara Bel Geddes.
It's like they tried to make a decent film out of this, couldn't do it, but didn't compensate by going full melodrama. There's no vision behind it, even just a simple Ross Hunter "rich beautiful people suffering" vision.
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