THE STERILE CUCKOO: more nutty than kookie and definitely dull

I understand that love means never having to say you're sorry. I'm ok with that. But I do have a problem when love means permission to inflict almost two hours of young love cliches and boredom on the unsuspecting reviewer.
From the sappy harmonies of The Sandpipers warbling "Come Saturday Morning" over and over again, to the long shots of the two star-crossed lovers flying a kite, and rolling in each others' arms on a sandy beach, 1969's THE STERILE CUCKOO serves as a case study in everything that's wrong with late 60s - early 70s Hollywood dramas about young love. By the midway point I was pining wistfully for the originality and stiff upper lip of "Love Story."

The problem here is not just director Alan J Pakula's unimaginative handling of the subject matter but also the main characters lack of appeal. In her second big screen role a young Liza Minnelli attacks the part of lonely misfit Pookie Adams with such gusto that she comes off as a mentally ill stalker rather than a kookie young woman we can empathize with. 
The object of her attentions, Jerry Payne, is such an empty vessel that it's difficult to understand how even someone several sandwiches short of a full picnic could become so obsessed with him. In his screen debut Wendell Corey is reasonably successful in portraying his character's nervousness at the prospect of making the beast with two backs with Pookie for the first time, but beyond that he's just dull and nerdy.
Teenagers today watching this film will find it completely unimaginable that first love could be conducted without the aid of cellphones, texting, Facebook and the internet. In that respect THE STERILE CUCKOO serves as a window on a recent past that now seems simpler and gentler. But with the story being so dull and unabsorbing the chances are they won't sit still long enough to find that out.