The Sailor from Gibraltar (1967)

"Alan" (Ian Bannen) is a Scotsman on holiday in Italy when he has a bit of a barny with his girlfriend "Shiela" (Vanessa Redgrave) and strops off in the company of the enigmatic and wealthy "Anna" (Jeanne Moreau). She is busy searching for a sailor she knew decades ago, and with virtually no chance of ever finding him the two set off on her luxury yacht on their nautical wild goose chase. It's on this boat that they encounter the larger than life "Louis" (Orson Welles) who suggests to "Alan" that all may not be right with his friend. Indeed, he - like we may have already considered - wonders if this mythical sailor ever really did exist, or was perhaps he just a fantasy? That's the interesting gist of the film, really. Is there such a thing as true love or is it all just a sexual yellow brick road with there always being another exciting curve up ahead. "Anna" is certainly no shrinking violet when it comes to enjoying herself with the opposite sex, and Moreau exudes a certain ethereal beauty with her characterisation. Perhaps Bannen just did too good a job, though, as his character just came across as an arse and I struggled to understand why she would ever have aligned with him in the first place. Welles owns his few scenes but hasn't really enough to do to make great impact on the plot and sadly that leaves us with an all too bitty drama that does pose some interesting questions about the nature of "love" but hasn't quite the oomph to deliver those strongly enough. There is some lovely Mediterranean photography but otherwise, it's a bit undercooked.