The picture loosened the old form of film censorship's hold on the motion picture industry (to pave the way for new censorship, natch), but its most enduring legacy could be the popularization of the cinematographer-as-voyeur. Of Albee's direct lineage, Patrick Marber's ( Closer , Notes on a Scandal) scripts come closest to recreating the tableau morte of Virginia Woolf?, but looking at the way that both of Marber's pictures flag in the third act while most crucially failing to un-flesh the sympathetic humanity in his icy necropsies highlights the brilliance of Nichols' (an acclaimed theatre vet making his debut here, with his next stop The Graduate), merciless dissection of the intellectual's disease of ennui and gamesmanship.
Nichols has traversed this territory before, in his film of Edward Albee's "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" and in his coolly savage "Carnal Knowledge."
But what better director than Nichols -- the man who brought us "Carnal Knowledge" and "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" -- to explore the dark recesses of the human heart?
Nichols, who's been exploring the dark divide between men and women (and love and sex) since "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" and "Carnal Knowledge," does near-miraculous work here.
Nichols once electrified and frequently upset the movie-going world with works like Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, The Graduate, Carnal Knowledge and Catch-22.
Director Mike Nichols is, of course, no stranger to this sort of thing, having explored similar territory in 1966 with Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?