Cinema: Pros at Play

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A LITTLE ROMANCE Directed by George Roy Hill Screenplay by Allan Burns

One of the few consistent joys of '70s moviegoing has been Laurence Olivier's game, witty performances in otherwise terrible films. Even junk like The Betsy and The Boys from Brazil became memorable in his hands: Who could forget his parody of a Midwestern accent in the former or his rapturous cigarette smoking in the latter? Olivier is such a sly devil that he could make his Oscar acceptance speech, a riotous stream of sheer poppycock, sound as though it were a Shakespearean soliloquy. As TV audiences saw, it was enough to addle Fellow Oscar Winner Jon Voight's brain for the rest of the night.

In A Little Romance, Olivier has another crusty character role: a suave old coot of a Frenchman who plays fairy godfather to a pair of star-crossed lovers who are just 13. He is in delightful fettle and creates one classic bit, a gasping fit while reading a newspaper. Yet this is one latter-day Olivier film that has more going for it than its star. Director George Roy Hill (Butch Cassidy, The Sting) and Screenwriter Allan Burns (cocreator of TV's original Mary Tyler Moore Show) have constructed a romantic comedy that, for all its contrivances, offers an indecent amount of emotional and comic satisfaction.

The raw materials are certainly saccharine. The lovers not only are adolescents but possess near genius IQs. Daniel (Thelonious Bernard), the son of a Parisian cab driver, is a movie buff with the auteurist sensibility of a Sorbonne professor and the computer know-how of an M.I.T. grad. Lauren (Diane Lane), the stepdaughter of an overseas American corporate executive, reads Heidegger for kicks. These two meet, go steady, then flee their meddling parents by traveling by train with Olivier from Paris to Venice. Hokey as it seems, this film's Romeo and Juliet want to pledge their eternal love by kissing in a gondola under the Bridge of Sighs.

Romance plays five times better than it sounds, thanks to a genuinely funny script, gorgeous locations, fine acting and direction that never wallows in sentiment. As Hill demonstrated in his similar and wonderful The World of Henry Orient (1964), he understands smart young people and knows how to cast them. Lane, a pretty refugee from Broadway's Runaways, is a completely unmannered actress who cuts to the guts of every scene; she is a major find. Though Bernard has too many punch lines and must speak in a second language, he rises to Lane's level by the end. The adults are just as good. Arthur Hill plays the same understanding stepfather he did in The Champ, but here he has the chance to bring the character to life. Sally Kellerman, as Lane's snotty mom, has her first comic field day since M*A*S*H.

When told by Hill that she will soon have to move from posh Paris to prosaic Houston, Kellerman greets the news with a wild-eyed speechlessness that borders on the truly mad.

There are also hilarious cameos by David Dukes, as a vulgar film director, and by Broderick Crawford, as himself.

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