A Walk in the Spring Rain

After Ingrid Bergman finally won a highly coveted Hot Toasty Rag award for her work in The Visit, she teamed up with Anthony Quinn again and earned another nomination for A Walk in the Spring Rain. They had such wonderful, intense energy together, and in this romance they both had the opportunity to play against type. Ingrid's character was a housewife who'd spent her life giving all of herself to other people. Tony played someone quiet, tender, and sweet.

Ingrid's husband, Fritz Weaver, is a professor, and for his sabbatical, they've decided to rent a cabin in the country so he can have the peace and quiet to write a book. Fritz is intelligent, opinionated, highbrow, and rather cold. Ingrid comes to life in her new country surroundings, and as she learns to love gardening, walking in nature, and caring for animals, she also develops a friendship with the cottage caretaker: Anthony Quinn. Tony is simple, earthy, and although he has passion, he isn't demonstrative. Both he and Ingrid are married, but they can't deny the deep feelings that continue to grow.

I know you're already out searching for a copy of A Walk in the Spring Rain, but there's a warning that comes with my recommendation. This is a drama. Yes, you'll see Ingrid looking cuter than she's ever looked, frolicking with baby deer and sheep, and Tony picks flowers for her; but something happens in this movie that's very upsetting. I won't tell you what it is or when it happens, but there is a "too good to be true" aura that surrounds the story. And when something seems too perfect. . . Well, just don't go into this movie thinking it's another Indiscreet. I loved the movie, and as a member of the Hot Toasty Rag board, I cast my vote for Ingrid, but I'm not sure I'd be able to sit through it again.

Kiddy Warning: Obviously, you have control over your own children. However, due to adult content, I wouldn't let my kids watch it.

I read about some of the bad reviews here. I don't usually write a review of any film I have watched but this time around I felt like I need to jot down something nice about this movie. It wasn't as bad viewing as I initially thought.

I didn't expect it to be on par with other great love stories in calibre of Casablanca or Brief Encounter. But I think it is a decent film, amicable but has sad ending. The film has a beautiful scenery with the great Appalachians landscape during the spring season that makes my heart long to be in that place. It is good enough to fill my time as I didn't have any thing worthy to do. The film flows beautifully, slow at start but still engaging that keeps you glued to the screen.

The attraction between Libby and Will was a bit rushed and Quinn did not convince me enough as a mountain handyman. Something is missing here. The scene where Libby met with Will's son came out of nowhere. They should focus a bit more on relationship between Will and his son so we can fully understand their interaction or left hanging guessing ouselves. Did he love his son or not?

The great Ingrid Bergman as usual carries the whole movie on her shoulder. Put someone lesser in her part and the film would be unbearable to sit through. I enjoy looking at her matured beauty, she was 54 at the time but still has this luminosity and radiance coming out of her. Its hard to compete with her, when she was on screen everybody ceased to exist.

A good-looking soap opera buoyed by veteran star power with a rather relentlessly melodious score by Elmer Bernstein and plush photography by Charles Lang; which when not taking in the vibrant Smoky Mountain local colour is concentrating upon the noble features of glamorous grannie, the eternally radiant Ingrid Bergman.

She's stuck with dry, pipe-smoking hubby Fritz Weaver (on sabbatical to write what sounds like a spectacularly dreary academic book), when fate sends her as her handyman sensitive hunk Anthony Quinn, who declares "You're full of love, ain't you Miss Roger?". What follows manages to be both melodramatic yet curiously passionless.

Admirers of classic films will no doubt enjoy seeing Anthony Quinn reunited with Ingrid Bergman, his co-star from 1964's "The Visit"; they're an interesting screen match, but here, in 1970, with handyman Quinn talking in a southern drawl and matronly Bergman playing a professor's wife living on a farm in Tennessee, one cannot help but feel a sense of central dislocation. Bergman's husband (American actor Fritz Weaver) takes a year off from teaching to write a textbook, but instead stares at his typewriter, pipe firmly stuck between his teeth (his wife isn't frigid, but he is). It's no wonder then that Bergman enjoys Quinn's advances, but since they're both married--and have problems with their selfish children besides--it's hardly a December-age romance. Dreary melodrama, adapted from the book by Rachel Maddux, with clumsy exposition and even clumsier attempts to modernize an old formula. Charles Lang's cinematography is a visually jarring mix of location shots, back projection and ugly sets, while miscast Quinn is overly-friendly and solicitous (he makes the audience as uncomfortable as Ingrid's chilly spouse). While it's good to see the two stars together again, this Smoky Mountains scenario is a drag: colorlessly staged, poorly-conceived, predictable and depressing. ** from ****

First review above slams the people of the hills of Tennessee, assuming that they are backward, in-bred people. It's too late now, but I would have objected strenuously to that misguided garbage. The reviewer probably never met a real hillbilly, and no, "Deliverance" is not about real people, it's a fictional account invented in Hollywood. Please, you idiots, stop slamming mountain people. You don't even know any.

The problem I see with the movie is casting Anthony Quinn as a mountain man. I never saw any backgrounder that said he was an immigrant from Italy, Greece, or Mexico who moved to the mountains. With the character name they gave him, I assume they were seriously trying to palm Anthony off as a Tennessean. I did notice that they never actually showed his lips moving when he was delivering his lines: Anthony's accent wasn't identifiable as such, but it certainly wasn't TN mountains. I may well be missing something. But, one thing I'm not missing is the outright prejudice, and even hate, I see for the people of the mountains. Shame!