Overrated

Fun premise, good actors, bad writing. This film seemed to have potential at the beginning but it quickly devolves into a trite action film. Ultimately it's very boring.

The best films of this genre always show a path and provide a takeaway for being a better person.

It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

Watching Jill Clayburgh relegated to playing Kristen Wiig's pixilated, supportive mother in her last posthumous screen appearance in "Bridesmaids" made me flashback briefly to how vibrant a screen presence she was for that brief period between the late seventies and early eighties when the actress represented the feminist ideal on the big screen. For this 1978 dramedy, director/screenwriter Paul Mazursky bypassed several then-bigger names to cast Clayburgh as Erica, an affluent, late-thirtyish Manhattan woman who looks to be leading a charmed life – wife to Martin, a successful stockbroker; mother to Patti, a precocious fifteen-year-old daughter, and part-time employee at a Soho art gallery. However, in one flash of a moment as she talks of summer rental plans on Fire Island, a suddenly bereft Martin collapses and reveals he is in love with another woman, leaving Erica shattered as she battles between reason and rejection with her barely concealed anger.From that point forward in the movie, Mazursky and Clayburgh take us on a hazardous journey of self-discovery which may appear predictable now after hundreds of Lifetime TV-movies but was quite groundbreaking at the time. True, there is a self-satisfying tone to a few of the scenes, especially the inevitable ones with Erica's bohemian, overly serene therapist, but what transcends those glitches is the honesty that permeates her comically awkward attempts at dating, her overreaction to Patti's sexual awakening, and the confessional conversations she has with her circle of best friends, an obvious inspiration for Michael Patrick King in "Sex and the City". The last quarter of the film gets a bit soft and talky, but the ambiguous ending is classic Mazursky.The performances still hold up very well after all these years with Clayburgh at her undeniable peak fulfilling all the dimensions of an emotionally rich role. Michael Murphy has the unenviable task of playing Martin as both an adulterous weasel and a misguided fool, but he manages it well. As Saul, the popular modern artist who comes to embody everything ideal in an emotionally available male, Alan Bates handles a comparatively easier job with remarkable restraint. A popular child actress at the time, Lisa Lucas plays Patti with brittle sharpness, while Kelly Bishop, Pat Quinn and Linda Miller portray Erica's pals with believable dexterity. Only Cliff Gorman seems rather over-the-top as a lecherous artist on the make for the newly single Erica. The 2006 DVD thankfully offers a lively and informative commentary track from Mazursky and the late Clayburgh as well as the original theatrical trailer.

A woman finds herself suddenly single after 16 years of marriage when her husband leaves her for a woman he met at Bloomingdale's. The film made Clayburgh into a star and deservedly so. She is simply marvelous as the woman whose secure world is shattered. Murphy is excellent as her weak-willed husband. Bates's character is not well developed, nor is the relationship between him and Clayburgh. In fact, the film works best before he enters the picture, as it focuses on Clayburgh's relationship with her daughter and friends. Mazursky's script incisively explores sexuality and his lively direction makes the film seem fresh even decades later.

Happily married Erica (Jill Clayburgh) is shocked when her husband of 17 years (Michael Murphy) tells her he's leaving her for another woman. They get divorced and Erica must learn to cope with being alone and bringing up a teenage girl.In some respects this is seriously dated. The dialogue, fashions, the New York art world and music all scream 1970s. Also she visits a singles bar (anybody remember them?) at one point. But the emotions and changes she goes through seem right on target (I'm a guy so I can't really relate). She gets through it talking to her girlfriends and seeing a therapist. She also meets hunky artist Saul (Alan Bates) and starts falling in love. The movie is a little overlong and I do have a problem with it. Supposedly this is a story of an ordinary woman BUT she lives in a beautiful big New York apartment and can afford a therapist. That's hardly an ordinary woman. That aside I loved this. Everything is understated and played quietly but it still works beautifully. The script is wonderful--especially the talks between Erica and her friends. I got the feeling this was exactly how women talk to each other. The insights are incredible. The acting is on target. Murphy isn't too good but he's hardly in the movie--everybody else however is great. Clayburgh especially is believable every step of the way--she was justly nominated for Best Actress for this movie. This was a BIG hit in 1978 but seems practically unknown today. Well worth catching just for Clayburgh alone. Also there was a black woman/white guy couple in this movie. That wouldn't bother anyone today but for 1978 that must have been quite surprising.

I have seen this film 4 times (at least). I despised it the first time. Then I saw a trailer (which was wonderful) that made me see it a second time. Still disliked it. Good reviews made me watch it on video and DVD. And you know what? I still hated it.First, let me say that none of this is Jill Clayburgh's fault. She is absolutely fantastic. She inhabited her character fully and did with it as much as she could. He Oscar nom was well deserved.The problem is the screenplay. Here, Paul Mazursky (for whom I have admittedly no fondness for) is incredibly SMUG. It is the screenplay I would imagine a self-important, in therapy, male with his head stuck up his own ass (and admiring the view) would write. Watching it is like watching a so-called sensitive male egotistic go on about how he is oh-so-sensitive to women's wants when all he wants to do is screw the babe. You roll your eyes, nod, and look for the exit.If this film, or Mazursky, was less highly regarded, I'd probably wouldn't be on my high horse here. But he and it is, and I think that is a shame.