An American doctor in the 1930s marries the mental patient he has been treating, but life together in the South of France proves to be an unsettling mix of emotional highs and lows. F. Scott Fitzgerald's epic novel, the last book he had published before his death, is most likely unfilmable; this glossy, indifferently-made adaptation has so little depth that it barely seems to give the source material a chance. Jason Robards continually snarls and flashes his teeth as Dr. Richard Diver (whom everyone ridiculously keeps referring to as 'Dick'); Jennifer Jones is the unstable wife he has 'cured'; Joan Fontaine is Jennifer's decadent sister; Jill St. John is a flirtatious actress out to stir up trouble in paradise. No one involved has the vaguest idea how to approach the material, least of all director Henry King, who allows his cast to visibly flounder. In a dated subplot, Robards, who has been treating a young homosexual, is accused by the boy's father of having similar inclinations, to which Robards responds like a rabid dog. It's too ludicrous to take seriously, and yet too limp and meandering to be passable as camp. The locales are nice and the Oscar-nominated title song is a big plus. Otherwise, an awfully long 'Night'. ** from ****