Part of the great line of bisexual, grown-up love triangle films that includes Victim and Making Love, Sunday Bloody Sunday has the blue ribbon patina of a masterpiece, but grinds to a halt more than once. Unexpected diversions into Jewish ritual, or quirky scenes involving dead dogs or children smoking pot are eye catching dramatic cul de sacs and the lack of narrative linearity becomes tranquilising. Sunday Bloody Sunday is a meditational character study, and it’s a brilliantly intelligent and melancholy film, but there’s something missing in the momentum department, and the meandering branch-off structure of the second act makes the last half hour a bit of an endurance test.

Nevertheless, Sunday Bloody Sunday has more than enough quality points going for it, one of which being a typically marvellous Glenda Jackson performance. Even on TV current affairs shows today, where she pops up in her current life as a British MP, Jackson is a joy to watch and listen to, her perfect diction filtered through that commanding but womanly deep pitch of voice, and her strong face and no nonsense hairstyle, which urge you not to muck around. Here, she plays Alex Grenville, a divorcee who could do better than to be involved with swinging bisexual artist Bob Elkin (Murray Head), but doesn’t seem to want to risk any time alone.

Bob splits his time between Alex and Dr Daniel Hirsch (Peter Finch), who, like Alex, is too old and smart to be dating (and too gay to be able to, regardless of age, in the late 1960’s) and too ready for permanency for the flighty, ambitious Bob. If you ask me, Daniel and Alex would make a fine friendship, but you know, there’s the boyfriend in the way. Outside his eclectic group of friends, Daniel’s adrift, looking for love in all the wrong you-know-whats, and getting the run around from hustlers.

Alex and Daniel face Bob’s impending departure to America, where he’s tempted by career and adventure. While they wait for him to leave, they face their own fears of loneliness, contemplate their futures and toy with their memories. The emotion of the film is penetrating and it is an original and unique piece. It's just a low gear shift from the director of Midnight Cowboy.

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Review by Mark Adnum