Marrakech Local

By JAY COCKS

TWO PEOPLE

Directed by ROBERT WISE

Screenplay by RICHARD DE ROY

On board a train bound from Marrakech to Casablanca, a jaded American fashion model (Lindsay Wagner) meets up with a moody compatriot (Peter Fonda). She thinks he may be carrying a little grass to ease the boredom of the journey; he wants to be left alone to reflect on tribulations yet to come. "Where were you?" asks the model's travel companion (Estelle Parsons) when she returns to their compartment after being rebuffed by Fonda. "Out of my depth," the model replies.

Two People manages to stay out of its depth almost consistently. The Fonda character turns out, after extensive badgering and cagey cross-examination by the model, to be a U.S. Army deserter from Viet Nam who has been on the run for the past few years. He has finally decided to return home and face up to the rather uncertain but certainly unpleasant consequences. For her own part, the model has led a life of similar uncertainty and moral confusion. It is almost axiomatic that the two will fall in love.

Once their love is consummated and they are lazying around Paris, the model starts to examine the wisdom of her newfound lover's resolution to turn himself in. She questions the morality of the war in Viet Nam and argues that he was right in deserting. Most of the model's arguments are forceful enough, if a little familiar, but the young man never seriously wavers. "Those statements have all been made," he announces emphatically. "I'm tired of running, Deirdre. I want my life back." It is because Deirdre wants part of his life too that all her new-found political indignation becomes the prattling of a spoiled and slightly selfish young woman.

Director Wise has made some excellent movies (The Set-Up, Odds Against Tomorrow) but has become better known of late for such otiose blockbusters as The Sound of Music and Star. Two People looks to be his attempt to get to a smaller, more meaningful scale, but he seems to be still out of touch with the most basic kind of emotional reality. Fonda, consistently underkeyed, and Parsons, forever frazzled, contribute what little the movie has to offer. Wagner, who looks about as much like a high-fashion model as a drive-in carhop, remains throughout a stranger to conviction. . Jay Cocks

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