Sunday Lovers (1980)
5/10
Anthology of four sex comedies. Some sections are good, some are not.
29 December 2004
It's surprising that Sunday Lovers is such a hard film to locate, considering that it has several big stars and some genuine talent behind the cameras. The film consists of four sex comedies - each are approximately thirty minutes in length - from four different countries.

1 - An Englishman's Home.

A coarse, sex-obsessed chauffeur named Harry (Roger Moore) takes advantage when the real lord of the manor is away on a weekend business trip by presenting himself as his lordship. He picks up Donna (Priscilla Barnes), a beautiful air hostess from America, and takes her to the castle for a passionate weekend, but the ruse is jeopardised when one of the real lord's lady friends unexpectedly comes to visit.

2 - The French Method.

Francois Querole (Lino Ventura), a French businessman, is trying to secure a high-profile deal with American correspondent Henry Morrison (Robert Webber). However, Morrison is a sexist oaf who uses his weekend business trips as a chance to wine and dine various sexy continental women. He has his eye on Francois's secretary, but she isn't prepared to surrender herself to his advances.

3 - Skippy.

Skippy (Gene Wilder), a patient at a Los Angeles mental institute, is given a weekend pass as part of his re-integration into society. He spends the weekend with Laurie (Kathleen Quinlan), a young and attractive woman he met at a nightclub, and learns how to enjoy sex and romance once more.

4 - Armando's Notebook.

Armando (Ugo Tognazzi) is left home alone for the weekend when his wife has pressing matters to deal with elsewhere. Whilst tidying up a spare room, he finds a notebook containing the phone numbers of all his ex-girlfriends, but upon calling them and meeting up with them, each encounter proves to be more disastrous than the last.

The segments vary in quality. Easily the best story is The French Method, in which Ventura gives the film's strongest performance as a man whose business and marriage are causing him perpetual suffering. The Italian story also has good moments, including a wonderfully funny scene in which Tognazzi meets an ex-flame who is now a psychiatrist and has a disconcerting habit of analysing his every twitch. "Skippy", the American part, has been oft-criticised (Maltin described it as embarrassingly bad) but in truth it is a passable though forgettable little entry in which Wilder's energy does a lot to disguise the deficiencies. The weakest section is the British one. It's a predictable bedroom farce in which the main character gets himself into a right royal pickle, but stories like this have been done to death a thousand times before and this one has nothing fresh enough in its locker to make it stand out. Sunday Lovers is a decent film, but it could have been much, much better if every section was as good as The French Method.
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