Review of Harold and Maude (1971) by Kevin J — 31 Aug 2010
It is strange that a film which is supposed to enliven the morbid and shed such blinding importance on living in the moment is so disconnected from actual Life. Bud Cort's deadpan Harold and Ruth Gordon's irrepressible Maude are both compelling dramatic creations, but neither of them is believable or, more so, worth noting.
Harold spends a bit too much time staging faux suicides, and Maude, who is supposed to create sentiments of august egalitarianism and social activism by stealing city trees and planting them in the forest and infuriating motorcycle cops, seems to be little more than a wily old hag.
The romance that blossoms between them is grotesque. The life-affirming themes of the film were not particularly lost on me; I just felt a bit more like Harold's long-suffering mother (the exceptional Vivian Pickles), wondering when Cat Stevens would stop singing and the idiocy would cease.
This review of Harold and Maude (1971) was written by Kevin J on 31 Aug 2010.
Harold and Maude has generally received very positive reviews.
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