Sir: While less knowledgeable than Freder- ick Forsyth about the
authenticity of its mil- itary procedures and hardware, I too found the Oscar-laden film The English Patient absurdly overpraised. The best thing about it is the gorgeous photography. But the story is a diffuse collection of anecdotes linked by tricksy and confusing flashbacks, and easily an hour too long. None of the cast performs more than competently. The would-be passionate affair remains distinct- ly bland and tepid until near the end, when one of the lovers has died of starvation. Aside from a vaguely Hemingwayesque love-and-war-and-the-whole-damn-thing thrust, the point of it all is unclear.
It is not a bad film. It has dignity and a dreamlike air, and somewhere within it can be sensed a meaning lost under artiness and gloss. It probably swept the board because the British film industry didn't pro- duce anything better.
M.G. Sherlock
47 Probyn House, Page Street, London SW1
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