It's remarkable how many people begin and conclude their lives reliant on some kind of bottle, wouldn’t you say? “Myrtle” (Gena Rowlands) embodies this reality; she’s an actress known for her talent who finds herself unable to function without a regular amount of Scotch. Surprisingly, this hasn’t damaged her abilities or popularity, as she's preparing to bring her play to Broadway. Following a rehearsal one evening during a severe thunderstorm, her limousine is involved in a collision with an enthusiastic fan, and afterward, a distressed “Myrtle” repeatedly sees "Nancy" (Laura Johnson) seemingly present, taunting and challenging her. Her confidante and guide, “Sarah” (Joan Blondell), attempts to assist and suggests consulting a spiritualist, but as the star's behavior becomes increasingly erratic, the producer, “Manny” (Ben Gazzara), and her former lover and co-star, “Maurice" (John Cassavetes) – who are each dealing with their own issues – start questioning whether she can pull herself together to perform a role she doesn’t particularly want. I'm puzzled that Rowlands didn’t receive greater acknowledgment for this performance. Her portrayal of someone who is both an actress, an alcoholic, and also comedic, seductive, charming, and deeply flawed feels incredibly intense at times—particularly in the final thirty minutes. While the other characters aren’t as compelling, Gazzara also delivers a strong performance as he navigates his own difficulties, and Blondell provides a welcome depth of character, even with her limited screen time. The narrative does feel somewhat disjointed at points; I occasionally struggled to understand what was happening or why, and this might have been improved with some editing. A significant portion could probably be removed without diminishing the overall sense of unease. That discomfort arises partly from the alcohol, but there are also elements exploring aging—coming to terms with that often-unpleasant process—and receiving adoration from complete strangers, something she doesn't experience at home. The film offers a critique of the theatrical world, but it’s not done in a dismissive or unkind way; instead, it illustrates how living your life constantly pretending to be someone else can leave you feeling unfamiliar when you look in the mirror. It demands your full attention, so if you have a couple of hours and want to watch seasoned actors perform at a high level, then this is sometimes disturbing, occasionally thrilling, often funny—and certainly worth seeing.

Source on TMDB