As a comment on religious repression, familial ostracism, and subliminal incestuous urges, this film might have some value. I'll never forget seeing it in 1968 just when the theater had a new automated system that would raise and lower the curtain in time with the beginning and the end of the movie. On a mid-week night, there were probably only 3 others than myself watching the film. At some point after about one confusing hour, the curtain went down, and the house lights came up. We sat looking at one another in bewilderment. I went out to the lobby and asked the old grouch of a manager if the movie was over. Irritably he asked, "Did it say, 'The End'?" No. He huffed off to the projection booth, came back and said there was one more reel. I returned to my seat. The first ending made more sense than the real one.
