Words fail to convey the utter banality and cringe-inducing moments that clutter this soapy, melodramatic mess. Paul Newman can only do so much, and even he seems to barely care. If this is the best that Ernest Lehman [usually a very fine screenwriter] could do, I shudder at what O'Hara's novel must contain.

I suppose this movie has a bad rap because it's definitely a melodrama and not a Sirk one at that. It does hit quite close to home for me and I enjoy it.