text: I saw this film when it was first released. The memory of how bad it was has stayed with me almost forty years. I didn't want to trust my own sentiments about the movie when I saw it, so I consulted a movie review published in a major metropolitan newspaper the next day- sentiment confirmed, the reviewer wrote that the movie was incoherent, indecipherable, and uninspiring. A little research reveals that the producer was star Leslie Caron's husband, thus the whiff of nepotism suggests the beginning for this awful film. The film's roster of many capable actors - Caron, Warren Oates, Scatman Crothers, Gloria Grahame, and James Sikking among others - suggests that it holds some promise. But the death of this film is attributable to its terrible screenplay. The "mystery" implicated is so obscure and so little revealed throughout the film that the viewer is left perplexed from scene to scene. The movie seems torn between being a detective mystery and an espionage thriller, but never settles upon one or the other. The sense of suspense is entirely absent. The main characters settle on playing dry, emotionless types in a fashion that inspires no empathy whatsoever. The cinematography is pedestrian. The result is that the hapless viewer loses interest in the characters, the plot, and, in the end, the film itself. I am little surprised that there is no version of this pathetic film available to purchase. I hope that if TCM finds a print of this film and feels compelled to air it that it is safely relegated to the 4:00 am slot.