The Other Side of Midnight

Like the previous commenter Jenny, I saw this movie when it first came out, and I too could not stop thinking about it! I saw it in this really nice theater in downtown Seattle (can't remember the name.. I think it has since been closed down and turned into something more steel and glass-like. Oh well, the memories linger...)

I have not seen this movie since I saw it in 1977, but I remember I saw it mere months before heading off to serve in the US military, and the images from this film somehow remained in my young mind throughout the time I was in the service, and beyond.

I still vividly remember the "prostitution" scene, and I still remember the flying scenes - as a fan of all things aviation-related, the movie is worth seeing just for the flight scenes alone.

I can remember going out on a few dates with girls back then, and talking glowingly about this fabulous movie. They thought I was a passionate, dreamy-eyed romantic or something. Must've had them fooled, I guess.

But if you want to see a good movie that's a bit of a potboiler paperback novel come to life, then this one's for you. I myself will be looking for a copy of this film in my local video store shortly.

What a success this film was in Australia in 1977.... it ran for months gathering momentum among shop assistants and daytime single women ticket-buyers as a much whispered about 'must see'. well for us fellers, it was a bit raunchy showing off Gallic nubile sexiness among the ruins of Paris in WW2. I guess it also caused the rise of the miniseries movie potboiler drama that paved the way for THE BETSY, THE Greek TYCOON and many other 2hr plus glossy romantic efforts.... most long forgotten. TV really corralled this type of book/drama on film with DYNASTY and KNOTTS LANDING etc. I am surprised that is was considered a flop in the USA when a big hit elsewhere. My main memory is from a suburban cinema in Sydney....400 person sized crowd of couples.... then shocked silence during a bathtub abortion scene... followed immediately by (only) one huge athletic man staggering from his seat in a state of distress, dizzy from what he had seen, lumbering Frankenstein monster-style across the aisle, and ploughed headfirst through the plaster wall on the stairway to the foyer. The building shook and we ran to see what happened. There he was, head first through the wall, slumped in collapse, with frantic audience members trying to pull him, legs first, from the hole. He woke up and started crying: "Awww I didn't like that" he sobbed. We had to stop the projector, tell everyone that he was alright and re wound the film. "Aww don't show that bit again" he protested, so we didn't, we re started from just after. With a mug of tea and his tears wiped up, we re sat him with his cringing date and the movie rolled on....and on and on. Just so you know...FROM NOON TILL THREE is a funny (!) Charles Bronson western with Jill Ireland.. equally as enjoyable 70s. No bathtub abortions but a good train smash.

I saw this movie upon the persistent recommendations of my lady co-employees thinking and hoping that there may be sense after all in their insistence. But of course, knowing them I expected this to be another chick movie, a maudlin love story.

To my surprise, it had a lot of suspense and I also appreciated the fact that it captured the ambience of the European countries that served as locales.

It did well in the Philippines. I saw it with a standing room crowd and it took me a while to grab a seat. But I doubt if it was well received in the US.

If this were to have been done twenty years later with a modern sensibility, gullible stars, a more lethal editor, and a spot more atmosphere, it could well have ended up as a hit. The budget was obviously good, and the photography is mostly excellent despite its too-frequent descent into seventies syrup. The lighting (and look) tends to be pretty uniform - for example, Wartime Paris was apparently a beautifully colorful time, and the mood gay and sumptuous, but then so is everything else, right down to the fitted carpet. The debt owed to the black and white classics is apparent, but there is something very unconvincing about using the old styles of movie-making with full-on glossy, TV color. A shame they didn't go all the way, and let the hammers fly -for heavens' sake give me some deep shadow when the lights are on. All in all, the zoom lens is over-active, the script underwhelming, and the score dreary. The performances, however, are lively and committed and the styling and costumes sometimes inspired. "Entraptured" as I was, I couldn't help feeling I was watching a Judith Krantz novel....oh, that's right - it's Sidney Sheldon! Compelling nonetheless...

...that a film with copious amounts of nudity can be as dry as dirt. It looks like a handsome production replete with a Michel Legrand musical score and Oscar nominated costumes from Irene Sharaff. But the leads, Marie-France Pisier and John Beck, register zero on the charisma scale. It is hard to care about anything related to them. And the lamentable thing drags on for 166 minutes.

The one saving grace is Susan Sarandon, who, even in a bad film in a sadly supporting role, still has that certain zest and spark of a true star about her, even though her palmy days would not completely arrive for another decade or so. But the rest of the film is apathetic and completely bored me.