SAME TIME, NEXT YEAR
Aspect ratio: 1.85:1
Sound format: Mono
A defiantly theatrical premise makes a smooth transition to the big screen in Robert Mulligan's SAME TIME, NEXT YEAR, written by Bernard Slade from his hit Broadway play. Alan Alda and Ellen Burstyn are terrific as the adulterous couple who fall in love and arrange to meet each other in a lovely seaside hotel for one day every year, and the film charts the development of their relationship from 1951 to 1977. Alda plays the role of a quick-witted neurotic with the kind of depth and complexity that might have escaped a lesser actor, while Burstyn is totally convincing as the naive, inexperienced young woman who ages gracefully and is ultimately transformed by her life experiences. The section set in 1966, in which Burstyn arrives at the hotel as a fully-fledged hippy is, perhaps, a little too abrupt, but this scene culminates in one of the film's most heartfelt pay-offs, so all is forgiven. Mulligan allows his camera simply to observe the drama (sometimes humorous, sometimes stark and emotional), and the film is only slightly sullied by a ghastly love song which bridges the gap between scenes. Otherwise, the viewer is invited to sit back, relax, and gaze in admiration as two consummate professionals take advantage of a brilliant script. One to savor.
Aspect ratio: 1.85:1
Sound format: Mono
A defiantly theatrical premise makes a smooth transition to the big screen in Robert Mulligan's SAME TIME, NEXT YEAR, written by Bernard Slade from his hit Broadway play. Alan Alda and Ellen Burstyn are terrific as the adulterous couple who fall in love and arrange to meet each other in a lovely seaside hotel for one day every year, and the film charts the development of their relationship from 1951 to 1977. Alda plays the role of a quick-witted neurotic with the kind of depth and complexity that might have escaped a lesser actor, while Burstyn is totally convincing as the naive, inexperienced young woman who ages gracefully and is ultimately transformed by her life experiences. The section set in 1966, in which Burstyn arrives at the hotel as a fully-fledged hippy is, perhaps, a little too abrupt, but this scene culminates in one of the film's most heartfelt pay-offs, so all is forgiven. Mulligan allows his camera simply to observe the drama (sometimes humorous, sometimes stark and emotional), and the film is only slightly sullied by a ghastly love song which bridges the gap between scenes. Otherwise, the viewer is invited to sit back, relax, and gaze in admiration as two consummate professionals take advantage of a brilliant script. One to savor.