Peyton Replaced

By Love Possessed (Mirisch-Seven Arts; United Artists) is a dreary dilution of James Gould Cozzens' book, the worst good novel of the last decade. It starts with a shot of Lana Turner thundering around a meadow aboard the meanest horse in the state, and everyone in Winner County, the sort of front-porch-and-rocker sinkhole that has become standard since Peyton Place, knows what this means. Lana has too much energy because, as she confesses hoarsely, "I am a human being with human wants and needs." Her wants are not being met, it is explained, because her husband, Jason Robards Jr., has been hurt in an auto accident. Nothing further need be said; no movie smash-up ever results in, say, a broken ankle or an amputated ear.

Lana is not the only one with troubles. Robards' law partner, Efrem Zimbalist Jr., is a man of reason and, therefore, according to the tenets of this kind of nonsense, an indifferent lover. Barbara Bel Geddes, his wife, takes to the tennis courts whenever she gets an attack of the old wants and needs, but her smashing serve is not enough. Even worse, their son (George Hamilton) is one of those well-bred delinquents so embarrassing in lawyers' families.

The plot is too complicated to be played out on screen, but Director John Sturges has provided a substitute--a series of scenes in which two people talk concernedly about a third. By this sort of sensation-packed exposition--one outdoor tete-`a-tete in which Lana and Zimbalist talk about Robards is so explosive that the canvas foliage can be seen to ripple--the viewer learns that everything comes out all right. Zimbalist revivifies his marriage by committing adultery with Lana, who thereby gains strength enough to continue life with Robards. Hamilton learns to appreciate his parents when, after he drives his girl friend to suicide and gets charged with rape by the town tramp, they stand by him.

As passions recede, Zimbalist mentions to Robards that their senior partner has embezzled a million dollars. Robards is relieved; the old fellow had been a little vague lately in discussing accounts, and Robards had feared that he was becoming senile. The junior partners agree, naturally, not to say anything to the cops; the senior partner is a lovable old duck, and besides he has paid back $700,000. This is heartening; the elm-shaded American small town may get a little messy after the country-club dance, but it does take care of its own.

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