Un tipo solitario

Recently dumped by his girlfriend, struggling novelist and greeting card writer Steve Martin becomes one of New York City's Lonely Guys: unattached fellows who dine alone, sleep alone, take care of their ferns and occasionally jump off the Manhattan Bridge. Neil Simon's adaptation of Bruce Jay Friedman's book "The Lonely Guy's Book of Life", scripted by Stan Daniels and Ed. Weinberger, isn't full of great jokes, but does have enough of them to sustain enjoyment for about an hour. Once Martin becomes a success--writing a handbook for the Lonely Guys of the world--the picture has no place left to go and dies. Director Arthur Hiller probably didn't understand episodic comedy--his linking device between skits, conversations between Martin and lonesome cohort Charles Grodin, is occasionally more amusing and potentially more interesting than the main narrative--but Steve Martin is working at the peak of his charms and some of the gags have a low-key spark of genius. ** from ****