I was 15 years old in 1960 when this flick was released (or escaped). I attended it on a blind date set up by my girlfriend, Carla. My date was a serious and proper young man who wore a suit and tie. Known for my teenage highjinks, I had assured my girlfriend that I would behave like a proper young lady. The complex tear jerking plot and multiple characters seemed to enchant the audience at the theatre on Hollywood Blvd. but kept me on the verge of laughter which I desperately attempted to stifle as the film went on...and on...and on. People were clutching handkerchiefs and sniffing back tears during the final courtroom scene when, at the sudden appearance of yet one more anguished character and one more unlikely plot twist, I gave in to a fit of teenage giggles. The scolding from my girlfriend, my date and offended members of the audience only increased my laughing fit which took on a life of its own, eventuating my removal by ushers who had to lift me out of my seat by the armpits and drag me screaming with laughter down the aisle into the lobby. Later, when I explained to my father why my girlfriend was no longer speaking to me and my date had ended early, he asked, "What was the movie?" He was a screenwriter and interested in such things. When I told him, he said, in a hushed, awed tone, "No wonder you laughed. That was the worst picture ever made." Instead of lecturing me about my improper social conduct, he commended me for having good taste in films.
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