In a Plaster-of-Paris Paris

Madame, based on Madame Sans-Gene, a vastly popular 19th century melodrama, is a spectacle that recommends to all producers of such pictures this modest list of don'ts.

Don't build a plaster-of-paris Paris.

Don't ask a color-blind chintz merchant to design the costumes.

Don't let anybody say to Sophia Loren while she bats her glued-on lashes and swells her taped-up bosom: "Gee, you're a real person."

Don't let Sophia say, "I think I've twisted my foot," and then disclose the damage by demurely hoisting her skirts all the way to her hips.

Don't let the hero say to Napoleon, when the Emperor names him King of Westphalia: "Gee, is my wife gonna be happy when she hears this!"

Don't do quite such a careful job of dubbing the dialogue--at least once in the course of the film, if only to tease the customers, let just one syllable of speech be synchronized with somebody's lip movements.

Don't, in a world where millions are starving, spend $7,000,000 to manufacture clamjamfry.

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