This movie presents three stories one after the other, as we follow the fortunes of the first and subsequent owners of the yellow Rolls of the title. First, Rex Harrison buys it as a present for his erring wife, Jeanne Moreau. She uses an anniversary party to flaunt her boyfriend, Edmund Purdom. The car then makes its way into the hands of Mafiosi George C Scott and his moll Shirley MacLaine. She falls for French photographer Alain Delon (and who can blame her?). Finally, the car plays its part in international politics when Ingrid Bergman and Omar Sharif take it on a rescue mission.
Anthony Asquith's film survives because of its construction, using the car as a lynchpin for three very different stories, character combinations, and situations. The car remains the star (perhaps because of its colour) but there are enjoyable performances here too. It isn't a challenging or particularly exciting film, but helps to pass the time. Personally I find it a better British film centring on a car than the earlier Genevieve, but that might just be my own taste.
Anthony Asquith's film survives because of its construction, using the car as a lynchpin for three very different stories, character combinations, and situations. The car remains the star (perhaps because of its colour) but there are enjoyable performances here too. It isn't a challenging or particularly exciting film, but helps to pass the time. Personally I find it a better British film centring on a car than the earlier Genevieve, but that might just be my own taste.