The Girl in a Swing

A repressed Episcopalian antique dealer falls head over heels in love with his beautiful but mysterious German secretary, and is apparently so blinded by emotion that he never thinks to ask her a single question about herself. As played by a miscast Meg Tilly she's meant to be an enigmatic blend of beguiling innocence and animal passion, but what begins as a lumpy Continental romance (highlighted by some of the most banal endearments to be heard since John Gilbert was laughed off the screen) goes from love story to ghost story in one awkward Turn of the Screw. What is femme fatale Karin Forster's dark secret: is she a reformed prostitute? A pagan sorceress? A figment of her lover's overwrought imagination? Don't expect any answers from director Gordon Hessler, whose adaptation of the novel by Richard Adams is even more stiff and lifeless than its protagonist. Hessler shows obvious pride in his ability to make a halfway literate film; but it's the other half that makes no sense whatsoever, and the portentous scenario, alongside the lame dialogue, provokes more laughs than shivers.