Casados pero enamorados

This is the kind of ordinary chick flic that in the skillfully subversive hands of a Douglas Sirk or a John M. Stahl would sharply comment on the mores and morals of American WASP society, but in the standard issue mitts of John Farrow is, well, an ordinary chick flic. In other words, nothing much stands out here, neither a line of dialogue in S. K. Lauren's ladies bridge club style screenplay nor a performance from any of the four leads. The closest to memorable is Patrick Knowles' study in self pity as the jealous husband while the least has to be Barbara Read's inability to play drunkenness in any but the broadest of forms. However, the person who definitely comes through this dreary exercise with the least amount of professional integrity is director Farrow. I am beginning to think that Mia's dad and Ronan's grand dad's career resembles a baseball team with one slugger ("The Big Clock") and a whole lotta .240 hitters. Give it a C.