Common sense tells me that this story of a spring-autumn affair isn't a terribly good film, basically because its screenplay (by the director, Peter Douglas) doesn't cut deep enough to affect the emotions. But it's hard to be objective about any film that gives that neglected talent Ann-Margret as many chances as this. Lucky Howell. Every 19-year-old should have an affair with a lady in her forties who looks this good. Typical Hollywood wish-fulfillment, of course, and with spots of tedium along the way; but the animals in the movie - Howell's father (Durhing) is a retired vet - are an unusual added attraction, and Howell, while his acting lacks depth, romps most courageously with the two tigers who double the role of his pet. Pardon me while I don my teenager disguise and book a flight to California.

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