THE PUMPKIN EATER: most definitely not a date movie!

1964's THE PUMPKIN EATER is a bleak and depressing examination of mental illness and infidelity within the confines of a middle class marriage. Think of it as a British cousin to "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf' and you'll have a good idea what to expect.
Jo (Anne Bancroft) has commitment issues and an obsession with reproduction. When we first encounter her she's on her second husband and fifth child. Before long she's left him for film scriptwriter Jake Armitage (Peter Finch) and a sixth kid is on the way.

Jake's convinced he can cope with the instant family but it's not too long before he finds himself resenting the constant noise, and the paucity of quality time with Jo, for whom the kids always come first.
Frustrated at the lack of attention at home he begins to look for it elsewhere, and while Jo is slow to cotton on to his extramarital activities, when she does, it shatters her mental equilibrium.
THE PUMPKIN EATER is as much a study as it is a story; a study in what educated, civilised adults can do to the person they profess to love most in the world, and the mental pain that behaviour inflicts. 
With a screenplay by playwright Harold Pinter this film is anything but uplifting but there is much pleasure to be derived from watching Peter Finch at work. In the hands of a lesser actor Jake could easily have become little more than a stereotypical male heartless bastard, but Finch endows the character with depth, breadth and complexity. Jake's behaviour is inexcusable but he has his reasons, and they are reasons not excuses.
Finch holds the attention whenever he's on screen and he makes it look so effortless. He really is one of the finest and most underrated actors of 1960s cinema, and I wish he would have had more scenes with co-star James Mason. The one substantial scene they do have together doesn't quite generate the same level of excitement as DeNiro's much anticipated head to head with Pacino in 'Heat' but I reckon it comes close.
Anne Bancroft, in contrast, appears slightly miscast. She performs well but it's a part for a British actress. Bancroft seems a little too foreign, too exotic, to be entirely convincing. 
THE PUMPKIN EATER is not a film with broad appeal. Many will find it too slow, too uneventful and too depressing, but it's worth it to watch a master practice his craft.