cstotlar-1 This film has a symmetry we seldom see in any comedies, by Sturges or anyone. It begins with a happy couple and dissolves into suspicion. Then the fun begins and the weird balance takes over. The conductor's concert becomes a three-act play with the scenes related yet illogical, as dreams so often go. After the concert, the conductor tries to relive his fantasies and virtually nothing cooperates with him. Preston Sturges was always brilliant with his dialog and love of words and here you see this at the beginning. That, for the viewer is Act One. The concert itself with the images of revenge makes up the second act, a black one at that. Finally, at the end of the concert comes the hilarious Act Three, an hysterically funny attempt to put the emotions and illusions into practice - with disastrous results. So the concert had its own three acts within and the viewer gets another broader three. The verbal humor in the beginning becomes a visual portrayal of revenge in the middle and a foiled attempt to carry it off in the end. I've never thought of Sturges as working with physical humor but he did here and extremely well. The conductor's attempt to pull ideas into the realm of reality prove as deranged as his suspicions. I think the presence of classical music scares many Americans away from the screen. Sturges appears to know the subject intimately well, so for me, as a professional musician, this is perfect film in beautiful balance.

Michael Neumann Writer director Preston Sturges made a habit out of kicking the legs out from under some of our most cherished virtues, and he turned his attention to the sanctity of marriage in this late career classic: a dark and malicious (but no less hilarious) comedy easily several decades ahead of its time. The vow 'til death do us part' takes on an entirely new meaning when a world-renowned symphony conductor (Rex Harrison) begins to question the fidelity of his beautiful young wife, and while in concert is inspired to fantasies of revenge, noble sacrifice, and suicidal self-pity by the music of (respectively) Rossini, Wagner, and Tchaikovsky.This is Preston Sturges at his iconoclastic best, sharpening his trademark wit to a keenness matched only by the startling, contrasting darkness of his humor. Notice how the catharsis of Rex Harrison's murderous daydreams lends an emotional brilliance to his interpretation of each musical score, and note too the malicious glee he takes in slashing his wife's pretty neck with a straight razor, and later watching his bête noir consigned to the electric chair.Harrison's dapper English urbanity was perfectly suited to Sturges' unique, demented brand of verbal hysteria; one need only imagine Dudley Moore in the same role in the inevitable 1984 remake to appreciate the sophistication of the original. Sturges was not unaccustomed to getting away with murder in his comedies, but it's hard to believe a film of such daring poor taste could ever have been made under the moral straightjacket of mid-1940s Hollywood. Like all of the director's best efforts it hasn't aged a day since, and if anything is even funnier (and more chilling) when seen today.

slothropgr I'm not sure how anyone--Sturges or Zanuck especially--could figure that audiences would go for this picture. Here we have a protagonist (one certainly can't call him a hero) who is duplicitous, arch, and neurotic to the point of psychosis, played by an actor who hammers each of these characteristics home like a railroad spike. It's one thing to fantasize about murdering one's wife (without a shred of proof), it's quite another to then go about trying to do it in real life (with no more proof). Sturges seemed to think that making Harrison utterly incompetent and slapsticky in the attempt would make it funny. Whether he ever intended that the audience forgive or even tolerate this would-be murderer isn't clear. One passionate declaration after he's failed just isn't enough. And casting the inexpressibly beautiful Linda Darnell in one of her very few completely sympathetic roles doesn't help. She could play both sides of the fidelity coin better than anyone, but he doesn't give her the chance. Her fidelity is so overplayed at times that I was quite prepared for at least a little undercutting. But it never came. I wonder if a year later, his career in ruins because of this picture, Sturges saw "Kind Hearts and Coronets" and figured out where he went wrong.

Camera Obscura In Preston Sturges' last studio film, Rex Harrison plays an orchestra conductor who believes his wife is having an affair. While conducting, he plans various schemes for revenge, each played out with the utmost precision and skill. He grows increasingly paranoid and grows more insane after each plan he came with fails.I expected much more of this, but this was based largely on my liking of SULLIVAN'S TRAVELS (1941). Most of Sturges' other films are perhaps not brilliant but at least they were hilarious and make for fine comedy, but this one strains for laughs, that are simply not there. Often hailed as some kind of masterpiece, I failed to see it. I'll take any other of his films for this one. At least they're funnier, hands down.The film is beautiful to look at, very stylish, and masterfully scored, but the main problem is, I'm supposed to root for a deeply unsympathetic character in a story that seems to exist solely to marvel it's own genius and complexity. What's more, Rex Harrison has no talent for comedy whatsoever. He tries hard but to no avail. All we are left with is supposedly witty dialog that has no purpose at all. I wouldn't dare to dismiss any Sturges-film, and perhaps the genius of this film is beyond my reach, but if you're looking for the old-fashioned madness of earlier Sturges, you won't find it here.Camera Obscura --- 5/10