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Not only a physical limitation, but also an opportunity to "see beyond," perceiving people for who they are, beyond their appearances, with the ability to even interpret the needs of others. The protagonist is faced with a choice between dependence and emancipation, between security and rebellion. Despite the path to independence he has already embarked upon, he risks second thoughts at the first hurdle, but his mother's maturation shows how the support of those around us is essential. In the knowledge that love and individual growth always involve risks.

Milton Katselas' direction (7.5) manages to remain light-hearted even during the dramatic moments; Leonard Gersche's screenplay (9.5), based on one of his own plays, remains faithful to the theatrical setting, giving it the appropriate, finite dimension; From a technical standpoint (8.0), Charles Lang's (nominated) cinematography is impressive, playing well with the contrasting characters (such as the difference between the two apartments), while Bob Alcivar's music, aided by the clean sound of Arthur Piantadosi (nominated), immerses the viewer in the sounds of the era. The characters (9.0) offer strong and convincing performances: Edward Albert, vulnerable but determined; Goldie Hawn, carefree and capable of unexpected sensitivity; and Eileen Heckart (Oscar), a stifling mother who nevertheless understands when to step back.

Best moment: She's just moved in, wandering freely and carefree around the house, but she notices her neighbor staring intently at her from the window. This annoys her, and to demonstrate her freedom, she decides to show herself at the end just as her mother did, but he doesn't flinch in the slightest... as if he doesn't even see her. Worth seeing for the sensitivity and positivity with which it speaks about disability.

The episodic structure has madness as its common denominator; each story is a variation on the relationship between normality and madness. All the characters harbor a dual personality, dominated by a fractured or otherwise ambiguous identity. Many stories begin with everyday situations that degenerate into nightmares; the horror comes not from external monsters, but from the human psyche. Every human being commits betrayal, is obsessed with something, or is violent toward others. It can happen that arcane forces, beyond their control, punish these behaviors. The film's dark moral is that those who cross the boundaries of reason or morality pay sooner or later.

Roy Ward Baker's direction (5.0) attempts to recreate a gothic and disturbing atmosphere, with very little success; Robert Bloch's screenplay (5.0) exploits the episodic structure, failing to develop a meaningful story in any one episode; the common thread that unites the various episodes becomes boredom; technically (5.5), Denys N. Coop's cinematography reflects the canons of 1970s British horror. Certainly more noteworthy are Tony Curtis's art direction, which uses claustrophobic settings that are scarier than the stories themselves, and Douglas Gamley's music, which is disturbing and creates atmosphere without becoming invasive; the cast (6.0) is definitely worthy, but it absolutely fails to make an impact because the brevity of their appearances prevents them from developing depth and depth in their roles.

Best moment: There aren't any; there isn't a single moment in the film where something unpredictable, scary, or unexpected happens. Worth watching to waste time, on your phone while waiting your turn at the doctor.

The film's plot revolves around misunderstandings, intrusive friends, surreal situations, and physical gags, making it a classic comedy of errors with an underlying moral: differences, when addressed with intelligence and love, do not divide but enrich a relationship. The film explores the clash of two seemingly irreconcilable worlds: the refined elegance of the fashion world and the masculine, informal, and pragmatic environment of sports journalism. Against this backdrop, the comedy reflects on the evolution of relationships in American society during the economic boom: the emancipated and cultured woman confronts the more "traditional" man, poking fun at couple dynamics and marriage: who dominates? Who adapts?

Vincente Minnelli (7.0) directs with an elegant and colorful style, paying great attention to set design and production design, a musical-like setting but without the songs and dances; George Wells' screenplay (8.5, Oscar) entertains with brilliant dialogue, a fast pace, and a plot filled with misunderstandings and sharp quips. Technically (7.0), John Alton's cinematography and the sets are used to emphasize the differences between the two worlds (male and female), which are constantly contrasted. Andre Previn's orchestral music highlights gags and plot twists. The actors (8.0) manage to lend credibility to the story: Gregory Peck, brilliant and comical; Lauren Bacall, elegant and ironic; and all the excellent supporting actors, including Dolores Gray, reinforce the light-hearted, satirical tone.

Best moment: certainly the classic "Heaven on Earth!" scene, but in this case, it's the wife who arrives at the supposed lover's house. Instead of a closet, there's a cozy bedroom, but with an unexpected twist... a dog with a passion for shoes. A must-see for lovers of sophisticated, elegant, and well-acted comedies with errors.