take a girl like you cinderella libery

Relationship movies - specifically romantic ones - offer seemingly infinite variations on the theme of love. Maybe that's because, besides our own emotional hang-ups, society is always introducing new speed bumps in the path of true happiness. Such is the case with 1970's Take A Girl Like You, a romantic comedy that runs head first into the sexual revolution and comes back with a bit of a concussion.

Set in a small English town, professional bachelor Patrick Standish (Oliver Reed) sees his seduction of the new teacher in town, Jenny (Hayley Mills), as just another conquest. But when she thwarts his sexual advances on the grounds of retaining her virginity, Patrick begins, first, to question "why"....then to question the very lifestyle that he - and the new social mores of free love and sexual liberation - have taken for granted.

An odd mixture of meet-cute clichés (set to saccharine-sweet pop songs from The Foundations, no less) and serious emotional pathos, director Jonathan Miller's film deserves praise for never treating Jenny's "condition" in prudish terms. Her reasons for avoiding sex, as vague as they may be, are simply a choice that's out of step with prevailing attitudes. And director Jonathan Miller lets the conflict play out brilliantly on both sides of the coin, reigning in Reed's usually bullying onscreen persona and giving Mills (a child star in The Parent Trap) the best role of her career. Take A Girl Like You offers up a romance stuck in a generational sand trap with no choice but for all the participants to awkwardly play through.

Twilight Time's 3000-copy limited edition is an all-around pleasure to look at, sharp as a tack in pretty much every respect. Special features are limited to an isolated music track, trailer and liner notes.

Three years later, on the other side of the pond, the family unit itself was suffering from dysfunctional growing pains. 1973's Cinderella Liberty stars James Caan as a Navy officer whose unexpected run-in with a sexy barroom hustler (Marsha Mason) soon finds him moving in and taking over parenting duties for her 11-year-old black son. The very definition of a doomed love affair, director Mark Rydell's film still provides hope for those hopeless romantics who never say die.

Stuck in Seattle due to a clerical error, John Baggs (Caan) can't help but feel sorry for Maggie (Mason) and the son, Doug, she all but ignores. Despite the fact that Maggie has another illegitimate kid on the way, Baggs offers to marry her so Navy benefits will cover the pregnancy and repair Doug's rotten teeth. But his generosity doesn't always go down so well. And losing the freedom to live life her way is one pill Maggie might not be convinced to swallow.

Nominated for three Academy Awards (composer John Williams' score, Paul Williams' song, and Marsha Mason for Best Actress) but winning none, ironically Cinderella Liberty rides on James Caan's overdeveloped shoulders. His performance is one of quiet, understated gentleness, stringing the audience along even as they point out his mistakes. The cinematography by legendary DP Vilmos Zsigmond turns Seattle into a grimy, port city that's miles away from the promotional brochures. As the poster promises, this is the kind of stuff that "only happens in life." And the kind of romance that could only be told in the era in which it was made.

Twilight Time's 3000-copy limited edition Blu-ray will be an adjustment for some expecting the typical high-definition look. Zsigmond's style favors smeary, natural light, which is often at odds with the new aesthetic. Those who caught the original release in theaters will probably be the best judges of the transfer here. Extras include an isolated music track, vintage featurette, audio commentary with Rydell, TV spot, trailer and liner notes.