Blake Edwards’s remake of Francois Truffaut’s 1977 film (which, amazingly, goes unacknowledged in the credits) fails much where the original did—in establishing the interest of the weak, sympathy-begging central character. A puffy Burt Reynolds plays David, a sculptor whose compulsive womanizing is elevated by the film to some kind of mystical, universal lovingness—easy to do when you only show David pursuing his women, leaving the messy abandonments and betrayals on the cutting room floor. This is one of those melodramas—like Days of Wine and Roses and The Tamarind Seed—that have always provided the emotional balance to the wild comedies of Edwards’s filmography, yet in this one the emotions tip into sentimentality and the sadness into simple morosity because there is no defining rigor in the situations. Edwards has interpolated 15 minutes of brilliant slapstick into the film, and it’s the only point at which it comes alive—the cruelty of the humor affirms the essential darkness and toughness of Edwards’s vision. With Julie Andrews and Kim Basinger.