SPOILERS.
This TV movie was originally shown in two parts and it shows. The bifurcation is so distinct that the parts might have been about two separate incidents.
Part I is the most interesting. It comes as no surprise that some Texans are very rich. But to watch Sam Elliott as the doctor, playing Bach on a harpsichord is an unforgettable experience, what with his red-chili accent. And he not only knows who Gertrude Stein is, but he can quote her too. So he marries the temptingly rich and even more temptingly palpable Farrah Fawcett. The movie shows us that not all is well out there on the range, however. She's given to a great deal of horseback riding. I've always wondered why some women were so attracted to horses. Men have towards horses what is basically a utilitarian attitude, but with women something much more is going on. As a psychologist, I was curious enough to enter "women and horses" into a search engine to see what research, if any, had been done on the subject. I wound up at a very odd Brazilian site, but that's another story.
Part I is an interesting exploration of the social dynamics of upper-crust Texas life. If America ever decides to built pyramids and sphynxes, they'll do it in Texas. Oil money is one thing, but the ability to play Bach is quite another.
Then comes Part II, he said in a voice laden with doom. Who wrote this garbage? None other than Ann Kurth, wife number two. (The story is based on her book, so you can imagine.) Dr. Elliott's marriage may not be all that happy, but it takes three to tango. Katherine Ross is presented as a naive innocent overwhelmed by the attentions of Doctor Elliott. They even have "their" song. I spelled out the word "Doctor" in that sentence because I want to emphasize the implications of his status. Every red-blooded American status-vulture wants to marry a doctor and then clean his clock during the divorce settlement. Of course this isn't how Kurth presents herself. She knows nothing of what's going on and must be seduced by Doc Elliott. (If she could have gotten away with it, one suspects that she would have mentioned somewhere along the way that she was a virgin.) The term "homewrecker" never comes up. Ross becomes suspicious of Elliott after they're married. Did he kill his wife?
In an absolutely preposterous scene, which takes place in a car he's driving, she confronts him with her suspicions, he confesses to her that he did the foul deed, and then tries to kill her. Here's how it's played out. (If you can believe this part, I have a bridge for sale that might be of interest to you -- surprisingly affordable.) "I did it," Elliott tells Ross. "Injected her with every foul substance I could find -- pus, blood, puke", or words to that effect. It's exactly the sort of confession that would be dreamed up by someone who knows absolutely nothing of lethal substances. Elliott, now deranged, tries to murder Ross. Here's how he tries to do it. He steers the car over to the right, off the road, so it scrapes against the guard rail and emits a shower of sparks. Damage to car? Dents and abrasions. Damage to intended victim? None. This guy has to be the world's clumsiest murderer. Anyone who recognizes the name Gertrude Stein can pull of a better attempt. But, of course, in real life Sam is gone, so Kurth can claim anything she likes without fear of being disputed.
The last scene in the movie deserves comment. Elliott has been found shot dead, or so it seems, the cadaver's face being unrecognizable. Ross hears disconcerting rumors that Elliott is still alive and practicing in Mexico or someplace. Ross witnesses an accident and a doctor is hastily summoned. She watches from a distance as the doctor bends over the patient. Could it be? --- The doc then looks up and stares directly at Ross, but he's wearing shades and what appears to be a Groucho nose and mustache, so we can't be certain. Last shot. Ross is alone at night and the phone rings. No one answers on the other end, but the melody of "their" song drifts out of the receiver. Fade out. I will just ask, more or less en passant, if you were a murderer on the lam, thought to be dead, would you call your hateful ex-wife and let her know you were alive and kicking?
But enough. The movie is insulting to the viewer.
This TV movie was originally shown in two parts and it shows. The bifurcation is so distinct that the parts might have been about two separate incidents.
Part I is the most interesting. It comes as no surprise that some Texans are very rich. But to watch Sam Elliott as the doctor, playing Bach on a harpsichord is an unforgettable experience, what with his red-chili accent. And he not only knows who Gertrude Stein is, but he can quote her too. So he marries the temptingly rich and even more temptingly palpable Farrah Fawcett. The movie shows us that not all is well out there on the range, however. She's given to a great deal of horseback riding. I've always wondered why some women were so attracted to horses. Men have towards horses what is basically a utilitarian attitude, but with women something much more is going on. As a psychologist, I was curious enough to enter "women and horses" into a search engine to see what research, if any, had been done on the subject. I wound up at a very odd Brazilian site, but that's another story.
Part I is an interesting exploration of the social dynamics of upper-crust Texas life. If America ever decides to built pyramids and sphynxes, they'll do it in Texas. Oil money is one thing, but the ability to play Bach is quite another.
Then comes Part II, he said in a voice laden with doom. Who wrote this garbage? None other than Ann Kurth, wife number two. (The story is based on her book, so you can imagine.) Dr. Elliott's marriage may not be all that happy, but it takes three to tango. Katherine Ross is presented as a naive innocent overwhelmed by the attentions of Doctor Elliott. They even have "their" song. I spelled out the word "Doctor" in that sentence because I want to emphasize the implications of his status. Every red-blooded American status-vulture wants to marry a doctor and then clean his clock during the divorce settlement. Of course this isn't how Kurth presents herself. She knows nothing of what's going on and must be seduced by Doc Elliott. (If she could have gotten away with it, one suspects that she would have mentioned somewhere along the way that she was a virgin.) The term "homewrecker" never comes up. Ross becomes suspicious of Elliott after they're married. Did he kill his wife?
In an absolutely preposterous scene, which takes place in a car he's driving, she confronts him with her suspicions, he confesses to her that he did the foul deed, and then tries to kill her. Here's how it's played out. (If you can believe this part, I have a bridge for sale that might be of interest to you -- surprisingly affordable.) "I did it," Elliott tells Ross. "Injected her with every foul substance I could find -- pus, blood, puke", or words to that effect. It's exactly the sort of confession that would be dreamed up by someone who knows absolutely nothing of lethal substances. Elliott, now deranged, tries to murder Ross. Here's how he tries to do it. He steers the car over to the right, off the road, so it scrapes against the guard rail and emits a shower of sparks. Damage to car? Dents and abrasions. Damage to intended victim? None. This guy has to be the world's clumsiest murderer. Anyone who recognizes the name Gertrude Stein can pull of a better attempt. But, of course, in real life Sam is gone, so Kurth can claim anything she likes without fear of being disputed.
The last scene in the movie deserves comment. Elliott has been found shot dead, or so it seems, the cadaver's face being unrecognizable. Ross hears disconcerting rumors that Elliott is still alive and practicing in Mexico or someplace. Ross witnesses an accident and a doctor is hastily summoned. She watches from a distance as the doctor bends over the patient. Could it be? --- The doc then looks up and stares directly at Ross, but he's wearing shades and what appears to be a Groucho nose and mustache, so we can't be certain. Last shot. Ross is alone at night and the phone rings. No one answers on the other end, but the melody of "their" song drifts out of the receiver. Fade out. I will just ask, more or less en passant, if you were a murderer on the lam, thought to be dead, would you call your hateful ex-wife and let her know you were alive and kicking?
But enough. The movie is insulting to the viewer.