Torn Curtain

Casting is TORN CURTAIN's blessing and curse.

It's a blessing because Julie Andrews and Paul Newman are strong, magnetic performers with whom we feel a natural affinity. It's a curse because Julie Andrews is too powerful to convince as the devoted lover who'll follow her man to the gates of Hell, and Paul Newman is too fundamentally decent to convince as the kind of guy who'd take her there. But hey, give yourself a little extra nudge in the suspension of disbelief department, and you're in for a tight little thriller.

Here's the setup: Newman is a physicist who has been working on anti - ballistic missile project, since cancelled. Andrews is his devoted assistant and squeeze (there's some talk about a wedding date, but most of it's from Andrews). They're attending a conference in Denmark when Newman gets a coded message, grows cold, and departs in a rush with a lousy explanation about a job in Sweden. Andrews, no fool, checks his tickets and discovers that - gasp - he's on his way to East Berlin. Is Newman actually a communist spy? What's going on?

Since a movie like this relies on twists and turns, I'm not going to say much more about its story. I will say that Alfred Hitchcock, the film's director, could generate tension in his sleep. Even as he chooses sets and photographic techniques that remind us he's merely spinning a yarn, the guy knows how to do it. TORN CURTAIN clips right along, maintains a sense of adventure and danger, and generally does what it sets out to do. Even if it isn't entirely successful, it at least gives us an opportunity to spend a couple of hours with Andrews and Newman. And that ain't bad.