Dig a hole: Steve Forrest
Scott Marks 9:13 a.m., May 23
Waspish little English comedy of no lasting sting. At best, it grants us Jeanne Moreau in her first big star turn in eons. With her growling-cello voice, her carroty hair, her putty face, her tentlike outfits, she blows into stuffy suburban Croydon (ca. 1959) as a gust of cosmopolitan fresh air, a matchbreaker (or whatever the opposite of matchmaker would be) for a mopey Catholic bride-to-be who would really rather be married to Jesus. Julie Walters and Joan Plowright as the mothers of the betrothed hold their own ground. And director Waris Hussein, emerging from two decades of television oblivion, just stands back and admires. With Lena Headey. 1993.
— Duncan Shepherd
Scott Marks 9:13 a.m., May 23
Jay Allen Sanford 10:25 a.m., May 22
Scott Marks 8:58 a.m., May 22
Scott Marks 4:26 p.m., May 21
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