A sharp, deadpan-hilarious dark comedy which never found its audience, probably because there are so many different targets set up by the material: modern marriage, adultery, doctors, hospitals, the literary world, sexual fantasies, sexual positions, Jewishness, lesbian experimentation, revenge (maybe feminist revenge) and, of course, the hard work of dying--which brings everything full circle by the finale. Director Otto Preminger chases after the pungent satire in Elaine May's script (under a pseudonym) in every direction, and yet the film doesn't feel scattershot; it is a rude, wicked rose in constant bloom. The wife of a celebrated writer and magazine editor in New York City finds out her husband's been cheating on her within their circle of friends--and this discovery comes while he's in the hospital dying after having had a mole removed! Dyan Cannon delivers one of her best performances; she's glib, bitter, sexy and naughty, which helps viewers overlook the fact the tone of the movie sometimes has an icy pallor. One of Pauline Kael's complaints was that Cannon's character goes after men without seeing the irony of her actions--that she has no self-respect--and this in fact may be true. We never learn where the wife's priorities lie; she's a good mother to her boys, she's a good listener when her friends come around to bitch, but she's too encompassed in thoughts of the past or in trying to stay strong to figure out how being cheated on really makes her feel. Preminger gets fine performances out of a colorful cast, and there are big laughs in the film, but cutting-edge comedies can also cut too deeply without nimble handling. Preminger isn't very careful, but that may be intentional. ***1/2 from ****