The English films of this time - with a few exceptions - are stunningly awful, as this relic reminds us.<br /><br />Packed with derivations from films that weren't any good in the first place (DANGEROUS MOONLIGHT, BEETHOVEN'S GREATEST LOVE) we get the studio-with-location-insets romance of classical pianist (wouldn't you know) Margaret Lockwood, who is not quite as awful as she would be in her post war efforts, and soon to be blind (he practices walking in mine shafts !) Stewart Granger, which inspires her to go riding in Pony Carts singing traditional numbers then pushed by the radio and composing the Cornish Rhapsody, in which she entombs the sound of sea gulls and breaking waves.<br /><br />Never convincing and never throwing up appealing fantasies, this twaddle just offers a complacency which disturbs in its historical context. Despite it's attempts at high gloss, it's also remarkably drab.