The film has its slow patches, and its fragile illusion probably doesn't stand up to close scrutiny. But, mostly, it dances on a very fine knife's edge between charm and absurdity, an irresistible paean to the art of kiss-kiss.

The movie itself is never as good as it should be, owing to Leven's lifeless staging.

For the film to work, we'd have to be in denial... and it's just not magical enough for that.

Mr. Brando is now a picturesque ruin, but he is just as magnetic as of old.