An adulterous couple meet at the same cabin every year for a weekend tryst (we see them every five years), while the world's fashions, morals and mores change around them. Ellen Burstyn repeats her Broadway triumph on the screen, and garnered an Oscar nod for Best Actress; though she's a terrific actress, this role doesn't allow Burstyn any real personality: it's all processed, from the costume and wig changes down to the mannerisms, from youthful girlishness to flip, knowing womanhood. Opposite her, Alan Alda is serviceable though rather uncomfortable, flailing away at little sitcom routines like a fish caught in a net. The sex talk between the two is queasy (despite being played for big laughs), halting the movie in its tracks. There's a love ballad that plays prior to every new chapter, and black-and-white stills representing the passing years, and this is all fine until we get back to that damn cabin. Playwright/screenwriter Bernard Slade doesn't write for the ages, he's too impatient and wants to wring laughter out of every set-up. Therefore, the film is sniggering instead of intuitive, and artificially sentimental instead of human. **1/2 from ****
Review of Same Time, Next Year
