Viewers gushing over everything including the title sequence (now THAT is funny) would have us believe this is some sort of cinematic miracle, but, trust me folks, this is one of the most embarrassingly bad films you could ever see, and if you're not laughing at it five minutes in, I'd say you've lost your sense of humor.<br /><br />David Niven plays a doomed and bravado-besotted RAF pilot who somehow thinks it appropriate to engage an impressionable (female) air traffic controller in an emotional conversation about love, just as he's plunging to his certain and fiery death. (Isn't it romantic...) Of course, he's spared by a quirk of metaphysical chance, and washes up on the beach, just as this same air traffic controller is riding by on her bicycle. (They immediately clinch).<br /><br />Looking past the bizarre homo-erotic subtexts, (so over the top you really need to refer to them as supertexts, from a naked boy sitting bare-butted in the sand playing the movie's twilight-zone-esquire theme on his little flute, to a celestial courier so campy/queen-y his makeup is caked on more thoroughly than the ladies'), the most bizarre aspects of the movie are how it weaves such bad caricatures of national and racial stereotypes into a convoluted attempt to argue some kind of point about the universal nature and power of love. We get it--fly boys like girls in skirts and heels, and girls like 'em back, and, apparently, all you have to do is cry a little to make it noble enough for your movie to get 10 stars on IMDb...<br /><br />As for the quality of the production, the continuity/editing is poor enough to induce cringing, and the lighting is, perhaps, even worse than that, but you hardly have time to notice because the script is so bad. There are games played with Technicolor, (whatever passes for heaven is in black and white if you can figure out the sense in that), and foreshadowing, (so funny my fellow audience member who usually like movies like this actually cheered and laughed when then the doc's motorcycle finally ended up in a fiery wreck), and freeze-motion, (which is funniest of all because the female lead is so poor at standing still you know the stage hands were guffawing off camera).<br /><br />The best shots are the early ones on the beach, but, after that, it's all downhill. The (moving like an escalator is moving) staircase is hardly the Odessa Steps, to say the least, and I'd really caution anyone from feeling like they'd have to see this lame attempt at movie-making on their account. The movie overall is bad enough to be funny, and that's about the best thing I can say for it.