Excepting Debra Paget's gams, this foray into film is utterly legless. Mistitled and--in Ray Milland's case--miscast, the simple-minded, sometimes illogical story schlepps along so listlessly that viewers might well wish for a protagonist's demise just to end the misery! The derelict direction employs gratuitous scenes of Paget enveloped in tamely titillating beach towels, a bubble bath, and a cleavageless slip. She carries it all off as best she can and is actually credible as an ex-con in a marriage of convenience. Anthony Quinn, whose role was probably intended as a dumb-ox rancher, exudes such sexuality and smarts that the city gal/country guy dichotomy seems not so dubious. Middle-aged Milland, however, as a hot property Paget cannot resist, pulls the rug out from the whole plot. He moves through the movie like a somnambulist--and can scarcely be scolded for doing so!
Review of The River's Edge
