Never on Sunday

Some bizarre take on Pygmalion that works only because Mercouri fills it with life and energy and the side stories are well done. Dassin's character is conceptually interesting, but the execution leaves much to be desired. I'm not sure if it's the writing or the acting, but there's nothing there to root for.

Reminiscent of certain Italian cinema; utilitarian, workmanlike, bustling with street-level vitality. Dassin's earlier American work is similarly spirited, but in Europe he burst at the seams. This is a particularly energetic film; proletarian and funny, somewhat tacky and obnoxious, but on point with broad strokes. Dassin's own would-be philosopher is a pretentious buffoon, outmaneuvered by Mercouri's hooker with a heart of gold. Her annoying performance fails to elevate that boring archetype.

I think I must be in love with the "Americanised" early/mid 20c view of Greece. One day (when i get enough disposable income), this and Zorba the Greek will be in my collection!

With all the positive reviews around, I expected this to be good, but it's one of the worst films I have seen recently. It has nothing going for it except for the music, and Jules Dassin's character in this may be the most annoying creep I have ever seen in any film. It's like a Woody Allen film without all the things that make Woody Allen's films enjoyable. (Maybe I should add that halfway through I started watching it at 2x speed to get through it faster, but ran out of patience and stopped)

I can hardly understand Dassin's character and find it hard to distinguish this movie from some of Fellini's incredibly boring, party oriented movies, except for the obvious kicker, people are speaking Greek rather than Italian.

Dassin said he got into directing when he realized "an actor I was not"...had he only reached the same conclusion about writing, A rehash of a fable already told many times--Sadie Thompson/Rain comes to mind, except, sadly, Homer does not commit suicide at the end. One can only hope his character of the moralizing American prig is somehow a jab at McCarthy and the HUAC that drove him from the U.S. Melina Mercouri, though, is irresistible, if (in the words of Pauline Kael) "exhaustingly robust".

Estreava há 60 anos em Cannes. Numa leitura apressada este filme pode parecer datado e estereotipado, mas o que mais me impressionou nele é que a cada dez minutos ele dava uma guinada em seu significado que anulava tudo o que havia sido mostrado antes. Ao mesmo tempo libertário e anti-presunção, me parece o prenúncio de tudo que acabaria acontecendo durante a década de 60, todas as revoluções possíveis, da intelectualidade à sexualidade, tudo soa à liberação da mulher em seu ápic

A film about celebrating the vitality of life should not be such a tedious affair. Dassin's nebbish American and Mercouri's loudmouth prostitute simply aren't engaging enough characters to build the story around, with their entire relationship based about the same repetitive interactions for most of the runtime. The absence of a proper supporting cast just makes it all the more dry.

Orientalism - the white philosopher's burden.