Sir Alec's performance seems to be caricaturing the Guinness style: cold, correct, restrained almost to the point of self-extinction, he underacts in a cast of rip- roaring overactors till the contrast between him and them becomes grotesque.

It's a one-idea film involving a case of mistaken identity.

Alec Guinness walks into a bar where he encounters his doppelgänger. They might be twins. His "Barratt" character is a teacher of French at an British university, his mirror image an impoverished local aristocrat. The two drink together, then end up sharing the latter man's hotel room. In the morning, "Barratt" wakes up and there is no sign of his roommate. Next thing, a chauffeur arrives and, assuming he is the aristocratic version of himself, takes him to their chateau where he meets the (his) family. Clearly he is being manipulated, but why and by whom? It does not take him long to realise that this family is pretty dysfunctional - lead by the morphine-addicted "Countess" (Bette Davis in her best Elizabeth I form), with his wife , his mistress and his daughter all adding to this familial maelstrom. Guinness is quite good here, but somehow the premiss didn't quite gel for me. He accepts the fake life and it's people all too readily. There are no protestations or police visits; his narrative (spoken throughout) does not reconcile easily with his actions and the ending, though I did quite like it, was all just a bit too rushed and convenient. The photography with them both on screen at the same time is flawless, and Bronislau Kaper's score fits well with the story too, but it's all just a little lacklustre.

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