Fifteen maybe twenty minutes at the outside of Juano Hernandez, Arthur Kennedy, and Jessica Tandy do not begin to redeem thirty of Susan Strasberg, who inherited none of her dad's physical unattractiveness or talent, to say nothing of two hour plus of Young Dick Beymer who Martin Ritt misguidedly thought was the next Gary Cooper. I mean not even at his most wooden, and he could be quite the acting lumber camp, was Coop ever this dull.
