Jonathan Sanger directed this murky film written by David E. Peckinpah. I found it very predictable and often tedious. Watching William Devane, looking well his age and a bit older, make love to a young thing was what I found silly and not real. The young thing, played by Shannen Doherty, was infatuated with him. You gotta be kidding. Okay, maybe he had the money. But his money isn't what she wanted. This I found hard to believe. I did like Clare Carey, who played Devane's daughter, the only real value in the picture. I felt the two leads deserved each other. Both losers. As to the acting, well, I'd give them a so-so, except for Carey, whom I liked. There are better films on this subject of obsession.