Claysaba Excellent, Without a doubt!!

Jenna Walter The film may be flawed, but its message is not.

Frances Chung Through painfully honest and emotional moments, the movie becomes irresistibly relatable

Roxie The thing I enjoyed most about the film is the fact that it doesn't shy away from being a super-sized-cliche;

JasparLamarCrabb A disaster. Forget the inflammatory political suppositions, the film is a disgrace on just about every level. A group of wealthy girls is kidnapped by the PLA(?) and CIA operative Peter O'Toole is brought in to locate them in director Otto Preminger's woefully misguided "thriller." The director, usually one of the most sure footed technicians, really loses his touch with this film. There are times when the camera pans so quickly, one is left wondering if Preminger is unable to recall who or what the focus of action should be. Scripted by Preminger's son, the movie is neither suspenseful nor exciting. It's muddled, at times awkward and almost completely miscast. O'Toole, a replacement for Robert Mitchum, literally mugs at the camera in a few scenes and the rest of the actors appear either fleetingly (Peter Lawford is in one scene) or look ridiculous (Richard Attenborough as a Brit who's running a terrorist outfit from a cave in Lebanon). And just WHAT is former NYC mayor John V. Lindsay doing in this? Fortunately for Preminger, he had one more film in him (THE HUMAN FACTOR) which turned out to be one if his best.

nycexpatagain Spot Cliff Gorman (Cathy Casserole of The Boys in the Band), John V. Lindsey (of the Mayor's office of New York City -- wow, he was handsome!) and Kim Cattrell (Liverpool-born, but who put the sex in Sex and the City) Hint: none of these emblematic New Yorkers are sporting New York accents. Isabel Huppert and Otto Preminger and Peter Lawford are amusingly findable, too. Okay, now you've had the fun that's to be had from this sadly prophetic, but soft-core version of terrorism. Plenty of tiresome speeches about Palestine and "the Jews," and Israel, all of which are far, far past all expiration dates. Oh yes, one other pleasure for those of a certain age is a bit of retro-tourism for the way Europe looked thirty-forty years ago. Enjoy.

Kenneth Anderson I had heard of this film for years, its reputation of being one of Otto Preminger's worst preceding it in every film reference book I'd encountered. Well, it certainly doesn't disappoint. "Rosebud" looks like a novice director's first effort, not the work of the man who gave us "Carmen Jones" and "The Man With the Golden Arm.""Rosebud" unfolds awkwardly detailing the kidnapping of 5 millionaire's daughters by a Palestinian terrorist group and the attempts by the parents (among them former New York mayor John Lindsay in his film debut/swansong) to retrieve them without starting a holy war. As ransom demands are made and we are forced to endure endless footage devoted to kidnap victims being trotted to and fro with bags on their heads, wizened secret agent Peter O'Toole is called in to save the day (Preminger seems to be engaging in a little joke by having the very chalky actor with the legendary booze problem drink milk in one of many pointless scenes).Much talking and little acting (or action) ensues as we reach a finale that must have appeared idiotic and reactionary in 1975 but seems practically prescient in post-9/11 America. "Rosebud" is almost alarming in its awfulness. The cluttered international cast is full of professional actors who come off as amateurs, and obvious amateurs coming off like…amateurs (If I'm not mistaken that's Preminger's son, Erik, by Gypsy Rose Lee in the role as a computer wiz. It is Erikwho is responsible for the leaden screenplay). The many clashing accents and laughable performances give the impression that many learned their lines phonetically.Though the plot is not too bad (just hard to follow motives and motivations) and suffers from a needlessly slow and artless execution, it's the acting that really torpedoes "Rosebud." O'Toole looks like he's about to keel over any minute; as the villain, an Englishman converted to Muslim, Richard Attenborough unthreateningly lisps his way through his role; and as the kidnap victims, Preminger couldn't have assembled a more annoying and untalented group of girls. Were we intentionally supposed to wish for their execution?Their scenes in their subterranean prison are laugh riots of high school level acting and bad blocking. Rather astounding to see a very young Isabelle Huppert embarrass herself as one of the pluckier debs…though she deserves an Oscar for the stomach churning scene in which she has to seduce and kiss the cadaverous bare chest of O'Toole. "Sex and the City"'s Kim Catrall makes her film debut here and makes clear why it took her over two decades to become a star.For anyone out there who wishes to actually see this film- if just for the bragging rights to bearing witness to Otto Preminger's decline- here are a few things to look for to add to the fun:1) The 70's clothes and "Brady Bunch" curly hairdo of the political activist character. 2) In the cat-fight between the kidnap victims; slaps are delivered and heard but never received. 3) The guys in the tennis togs (short shorts) air dropped onto the "Rosebud" 4) John Lindsay…nuff said. 5) The militant boy scouts with the knee-socks and bare chests. 6) Kim Catrall's a capella rendering of Nilsson's "I guess the Lord must be in New York City. 7) O'Toole's battle with the terrorist with the killer corkscrew.

djm8 Notice that the film has no screenwriting credit. That's because there was apparently no script. There were, however, about an hour and a half's worth of terrorists-making- sure-they're-not-followed scenes, which were suicidally tedious but in a way were a soothing respite from unbearable, aimless dialogue delivered by wooden actors who seemed as confused as the audience. Peter O'Toole of course is not wooden, but he does look severely ill--perhaps as a result of the gastric troubles that nearly killed him in the mid-seventies, or perhaps because there's not enough liquor in the world to douse the humiliating awareness that Man Friday will not be your worst film this year.Put it this way: this excruciating, jaw-droppingly awful film makes Murphy's War look like Citizen Kane. How I'm just grateful, though amazed, that Mystery Science Theater never got hold of it. Did they?Let us draw a discreet veil over this abortion of a film and never speak of it again. In fact, let's ignore everything between The Ruling Class and Stunt Man.