Monday’s season finale of Jane the Virgin was sometimes silly, as in the church right after Jane got hitched, but always rich.

Near the end, the lesbian policewoman (who is actually evil Rose!) shoots Michael, Jane’s new husband, leaving us with the gripping question:  Will even a married Jane have to remain a virgin?

I’m certain Jane the Virgin is good for one more season but beyond that, who knows?  Let’s have new characters replacing old ones: that will probably bolster it.

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Another movie written and directed by Preston Sturges, the 1948 Unfaithfully Yours stars Rex Harrison as the conductor of a symphony orchestra.  After asking his foolish brother-in-law to keep an eye on his beloved wife (Linda Darnell) while the conductor is away, the chap learns that the brother-in-law hired a detective to do so.  Appalled by this, Harrison is also eventually told of circumstantial evidence pointing to possible unfaithfulness.  Refusing to give Darnell the benefit of the doubt, the conductor becomes a fierce basket case.

Bits of drama and chunks of comedy in this seriocomic romp do not gel, but amusement is certainly there.  This time Sturges is uninterested in American manners and mores, which makes Unfaithfully Yours a little less winning than his other films.  Even the romance with its gushing and glibness is less attractive.  Claudette Colbert and even Joel McCrea showed us how it was done.

Cover of Summer Hours (The Criterion Collection)

Summer Hours (2009), a film by Olivier Assayas, is gratifyingly intelligent but it bored me a bit both times I saw it.  Its fiction about a French family reveals Assayas’s concern with what threatens French culture: namely, global interests and global markets (doubtful) and the ignorance of the young (I agree).  Nothing is said about Muslim immigrants, though.

The acting in SH is first-rate.  Juliette Binoche is sheer genius with aplomb and emotion and facial activity.  From others too—Jeremie Renier (Jeremie), Valerie Bonneton (Angela), and so on—there is anything but conventionality; all offer mesmerizing freshness.  The film is quite memorable for one so static.

(In French with English subtitles)

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The Sam Raimi picture, Spider-Man (2002), starring Tobey Maguire, might have been released about the time the bullying of  kids was starting to receive a whole lot of contempt, for Peter Parker is bullied disgracefully by bigger dudes.  However, after turning into Spider-Man, he never avenges himself on his personal bullies but becomes a crime fighter instead, often rescuing the popular girl he loves, M.J. Watson (Kirsten Dunst).  Proof, this, that the boy is now a (Spider) man, as is the awful guilt he feels concerning the death of his uncle—which is no small burden for a young mensch.

Alas, the garish Green Goblin is sort of a villain on the cheap, but he certainly doesn’t spoil the nicely photographed fun.  Spider-Man is involving, vivacious, jokey—not to mention sexy-with-Dunst (and so not a complete family film).

Cover of A Touch of Class

The 1973 romantic comedy, A Touch of Class, is too mendacious to be good.  There is much about the extramarital union of Steve (George Segal) and Vicki (Glenda Jackson) that seems unlikely, including their early hotel-room wrangling, which is in fact worse than unlikely.  It’s bizarre and ill-fitting.

Although there is little romantic charm in Glenda Jackson, her acting is delightfully successful, as is that of Segal and others in the cast.  Directed and co-written by Melvin Frank, Class is intermittently funny, not to mention devoid of intercourse scenes and nudity.  And yet, truth be told, the film wants to be lighthearted or nonchalant about sexual perversion of more than one kind.  It isn’t, quite, but it wants to be.  Hence I say it has no more than touch of class.