American college professor and widower George Segal driving from Paris to Megève to ski, colliding on the roadway with recent divorcee Glenda Jackson (she's apparently on a skiing vacation too, so why is she traveling in the opposite direction?). She fools him with a falsely written note of culpability (in French), so he follows her to the slopes to confront her and crashes into her yet again! This lamebrained romance is from a different era, a time when a British lady can't work an American-made washing machine without making a complete mess; meanwhile, her husband suddenly morphs into an old vaudevillian when he reunites with his cronies (yes, they do a number). George Segal and Glenda Jackson were both on the downward slope--cinematically-speaking--at this time, so it didn't make sense to present them here as a constantly bickering, hostile twosome. Jackson is far too brittle to warm up to; Segal has an unshakable, weasel-like look of apprehension; while Maureen Stapleton once again plays the domineering mama (trash-talking for laugh--and dropping that old '70s gay slur that won't seem to die). Root canal would be less painful. Look fast for Martin Short and John Candy in small roles. NO STARS from ****
