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Sunday Bloody Sunday Review

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Easily John Schlesinger’s most personal film, this is a poignant study of the twin perils of being British and lonely.

★★★★

Easily John Schlesinger’s most personal film, this is a poignant study of the twin perils of being British and lonely. Doctor Peter Finch and unemployment advisor Glenda Jackson are so afraid of facing life alone that they agree to share with caring but self-serving sculptor Murray Head. Neither is that comfortable with the arrangement, but the anticipation of stolen trysts dulls the pain of the interminable absences. But this is not just about urbane socio-emotional compromise. Schlesinger explores the impact on the middle-class of 1960s attitudes to sex and class, while also taking swipes at the vulgarity of American culture. He also elicits performances of great sensitivity from the Oscar-nominated Jackson and Finch, who keep their passions buried beneath a hair-shirt of civility.

Performances of great sensitivity from the Oscar-nominated Jackson and Finch, who keep their passions buried beneath a hair-shirt of civility.

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