At the time of its release, there were certain major film critics who called Carnal Knowledge the best film Mike Nichols had made to date – and mercifully, he would go on to have a decade that stretched into the 21st century, in which he would prove this to be quite far from the truth, at least in terms of his most well-crafted projects. This is not a necessarily bad film, but rather one that feels like it lacks the most consistency, and considering it was made by one of the great American filmmakers of his direction (as well as one who was operating at the peak of his talents, after the incredible one-two punch that was Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and The Graduate, two of the finest films of the 1960s), its difficult to fully embrace this film, both on a conceptual and literal level – but taken for what it is, we can still find a lot of value in the film, especially in those areas that feel like they’re being plucked directly from experience, or at least masquerading as such. The story of two college friends who mature into their sexuality at different paces, and thus reach different points of satisfaction (or the lack thereof) later in life, is promising enough, and considering Nichols’ own interest in exploring the concept of sexual identity through some engaging but provocative comedies, Carnal Knowledge is a worthwhile exercise based solely on some of the ideas that inspired it – and as many flaws as we may find embedded in the film, there are an equal number of merits, which only make it more jagged film, since the ebb and flow leads the viewer to a state of being almost entirely perplexed – but we have to wonder whether this was accidental, or the point entirely.

Perhaps the reason behind Carnal Knowledge seeming slightly uneven is that it is the rare instance of a film that has a great concept, but slightly botches it in the execution (or rather, doesn’t allow its many ideas to be fully realized). It is certainly a product of its time – both Nichols and screenwriter Jules Feiffer (who were credited side-by-side for much of the film’s promotion, thus indicating that they both hold a considerable amount of artistic authority on the construction and production of the film) were raised in very close proximity to the era in which this film takes place, with the 1940s milieu being well-constructed enough to transport us back to the period, but still keeping modern audience’s at arms-length, especially since not too much effort is put into ensuring that it translates to the contemporary era particularly well. It often feels like the rest of the content of this film doesn’t match the bold implications of the story and its very unique approach to disrobing the secrets of sexuality, which are a lot more interesting than the actual film gives it credit for. There’s an immense disconnect between what the film intends to say, and the manner in which it eventually manages to say it, and it isn’t helped by the film’s three-tiered approach to telling the story, with a lot of the elisions ultimately leading to some enormous confusion, especially when the creative use of ambiguity is not nearly as effective as it would seem, based on how Nichols and Feiffer approached the material. It’s disappointing considering how strong the material was that the film was working from, and it needed far more nuance to be fully capable of comprehending the many secrets lurking beneath these characters.

However, as many problems as we can find with the film, it doesn’t invalidate the fact that Carnal Knowledge is simmering with fascinating ideas, many of which are applicable to our everyday life. One doesn’t need to be an expert in the trials and tribulations of the suburban, Ivy League-educated WASP culture to understand this film and how it approaches the subject of sexuality amongst the upper-middle class, especially since Carnal Knowledge touches on a couple of themes that are far more universal than the specific story would lead you to believe. Ultimately, the title indicates the two-pronged structure of the film, with the eroticism being evoked by the use of the term “carnal” (with the film’s forthright sexuality being placed front and centre from the first moment), while “knowledge” indicates that it will be focusing on these characters gaining wisdom from trying to understand their own identities, and how they reconcile their individual desires with those of the women who enter into their lives. Mercifully, Carnal Knowledge is not one of those films that proposes to “unpack” the elusive secrets of romantic relationships, and it is remarkably compassionate to its female characters – but its very interesting method of deconstructing the concept of lust, coupled with the nuanced and thoughtful manner in which it defines its characters. There’s a lot of promise in how the film makes use of these individuals, but they ultimately fall victim to some of the more meandering flights of fancy made by the director. Carnal Knowledge may have been written by one of the country’s finest satirists, but it’s far from the hilarious, complex affair we’d expect, and needed a slightly bolder approach to reach its full potential.

The actors are essentially what keeps Carnal Knowledge afloat, and there are certainly some excellent ones here, perhaps even better than the film deserved. The film was made just as Jack Nicholson was reaching the start of his peak as an actor, and Nichols managed to tap into a very rare quality, whereby the actor’s unhinged energy was beginning to emerge, but not before his boyish charms had worn off, meaning that the roguish Jonathan was very much within Nicholson’s wheelhouse in both the earlier sequences where he’s a youthful rapscallion, and his more downbeat days as a cold-hearted bachelor who doesn’t realize you cannot rest on your laurels forever. He’s sharply contrasted by Arthur Garfunkel, who proves he is as good an actor as he is a musician, taking on the part of Sandy, a reluctant nebbish who yearns to be as popular as his friend, with total commitment. The women in this film are fantastic – Candice Bergen is incredible as the young woman who finds herself adapting (sexually and in terms of behaviour) to whichever of the two main characters she is currently interacting with, while Rita Moreno has a brief but brilliant role as another potential lover that appears in the final scene, and is the person who makes perhaps the biggest impact by virtue of what her character represents. Perhaps the only bad performance in this film comes in the form of Ann-Margret, whose screeching, stilted character is the complete antithesis of those played by her co-stars (so it only seems bittersweet that she’d be the one to earn the most acclaim at the time). Carnal Knowledge has some terrific actors doing solid work, and while it is far from definitive for any of them, it does allow nearly all of them to consolidate themselves as excellent actors in their own right, which is more than can be said about a lot of other films from around this period.

The problem with Carnal Knowledge is not that it is a bad film, but rather that it is a decent one with a great premise, but one that is rendered as something of a disappointment purely because the ambition didn’t match the purpose, which creates a situation of immense disconnect between what the film aims to convey, and what it actually manages to accomplish in a relatively short span of time (at only 98 minutes, there isn’t much space for the film to explore all of its ideas, especially not when it is so clearly divided into three distinct chapters). It just doesn’t manage to amount to anything all that compelling, even if there were hints that it was capable of much more from the very start. It has a certain complexity embedded in it that leads us to believe that there was a truly great film hidden in here somewhere, but it is overwhelmed by layers of middling socio-cultural commentary that serves a purpose, but doesn’t leave us particularly enamoured with the story as a whole, especially when the humour begins to erode, and all we’re left with are the cynical ramblings of sexually-repressed pseudo-intellectuals with delusions of grandeur and enough money to make it seem like they’re set for the future. The extent to which we can buy into these ideas depends entirely on whether or not we’re interested in how the film handles some of its more disconcerting material, leading to a middling film with some tremendous ideas, and not much else.