Love is a funny concept – it’s something nearly everyone feels at some point in their life, whether intimately or from a distance, but it’s also not something we entirely understand. Science claims that it is the result of some kind of chemical reaction, philosophers view it as having very deep existential roots, and religious scholars claim that it is a gift from some deity to the human race, designed to draw us together and procreate. Yet, the dominion in which some of the greatest contributions to the discussion on the origins of love have to be within the world of art, with the literature of all forms often being reduced to the pursuit of romance, and the understanding of the experience of falling in and out of love with someone. Cy Howard, in collaboration with playwrights Renée Taylor and Joseph Bologna, sets out to explore various aspects of this universal phenomenon in the form of Lovers and Other Strangers, an adaptation of the play of the same title, in which a few couples ranging in age, economic position and relationship status, engage in a series of conversations in which the nature of their relationship is the central motif. Whether a longtime married couple fighting to save the last vestiges of their marriage in the face of infidelity, an engaged couple who begin to have second thoughts right before their imminent wedding, or a newly-minted pair of lovers that realize that a one-night stand can turn into something much more serious at a moment’s notice, and seemingly without any warning. Funny, heartfelt and oddly much better than it ought to have been, Lovers and Other Strangers is a delightful and irreverent comedy-of-manners that attempts to do the impossible, which is leaping right to the heart of various theories about what love means and represents in the broader sense – and while it may not always be entirely successful, it’s a solid and well-crafted comedy that knows how to handle some challenging ideas, which it does with sharpness, precision and a lot of humour, enough to maintain some slightly tenuous ideas that tend to emerge from time to time.

Any conversation about romance is inevitably going to be redirected to the fact that it is not a subject that is always easy to discuss without veering towards becoming either overly sentimental on one end of the spectrum, or entirely cynical on the other – it ultimately depends on the perspective of the person making it, and whether the story is intended to be a celebration of the uneasy joys of falling in love, or a harsh critique of the foolishness that comes with romance. It does help that Lovers and Other Strangers is the brainchild of a pair of playwrights and a director who is very familiar with the material, which meant that there wasn’t only a singular authorial voice in this film, which works perfectly alongside the narrative structure, which is all about presenting different perspectives. The film does shift in tone throughout, oscillating between joyful and cynical, depending on what the specific scene requires, which allows it to be a lot more dynamic and entertaining since it never seems to be settling into a particular mood, and instead leaps around as liberally as possible, showing us many different sides of these characters and their day-to-day flirtations with romance, whether it is through attempting to rekindle an extinguished spark, or catch the attention of a prospective lover. It is a fascinating examination of very intriguing themes, and we find that at its best moments, it captures a very specific kind of romance that is poignant and heartfelt, being a surprisingly detailed account of different relationships and their efforts to feel those same irresistible pangs of desire and joy that may be fleeting and absent after a while, but are unique to the experience of being in love, something on which the film is very much fixated, but at least in the sense of being quite poignant at the best of times, and deeply provocative when it is required, which makes it a far more entertaining film than we initially may have expected.

Perhaps the most appropriate descriptor for Lovers and Other Strangers is a Woody Allen film made before he reached his peak as a filmmaker, since while this may seem like a cheap comparison, many similarities are worth acknowledging, to the point where we wonder whether or not this story – either in its original stage form or this adaptation – was at all an influence on the young writer and director, who had already made a couple of films but would very soon start to examine similar concepts in the form of films like Annie Hall and Manhattan, films that may not be directly influenced by this story, but have a similar structure and, perhaps most importantly, share a very common tempo and tone that makes comparisons far from superficial. Lovers and Other Strangers is one of those quintessential “crossover” films that we saw being produced in the early 1970s, whereby they were often adaptations of novels and plays first published in the late 1960s, when many writers were reflecting on the era of free love and the social and cultural shift that took place towards the end of the decade, with the new decade providing a wealth of context relating to underlying paranoia and unease that defined the period. Arguably, Howard was not the most stylish of directors when it came to how he crafted his films, but he was someone who could do well with the simplest of scripts, and Lovers and Other Strangers features a very strong premise that didn’t require overly elaborate filmmaking, but rather a solid and meaningful approach that is well-made and gets the main points across in a way that is valuable and worth our time. The comparisons to Allen are inevitable, but Howard does hold his own in terms of establishing a clear vision that is far less cynical and actively more hopeful, enough to make it a unique film all on its own, even when it is slightly more derivative than we would have hoped based on a cursory glance at the premise.

Lovers and Other Strangers make use of quite a diverse ensemble of performers, which matches the overall intentions of the story, which is to explore the different relationships of a diverse group of individuals, varying in every conceivable way but sharing the common trait of having a unique perspective on love and romance in its various forms. It’s a truly communal effort, and the lack of a clear lead is handled exceptionally and prevents the film from spending too much time with one character over another. Highlights include Beatrice Arthur in a very rare film performance (and while her career on television is truly incredible, we can’t help but lament how many opportunities we lost to see her work with many tremendous directors), as well as Richard Castellano, Cloris Leachman, Michael Brandon, Harry Guardino, and Gig Young, and early performances from future icons such as Diane Keaton and Anne Meara, who play smaller roles but still leave a considerable impact. Films like Lovers and Other Strangers tend to have larger ensembles that are populated by a blend of young, up-and-coming stars and seasoned character actors, many of whom were plucked directly from the stage and placed in this film, essentially doing some of their very best work in the process. This is a film that is driven by dialogue, and most of these actors have to memorize long passages of dialogue, and each one of them delivers fantastic work that speaks to their professionalism, and helps the director bring this story to life in a way that feels genuine and meaningful, rather than simply defaulting to the most surface-level comedic approach that may have been slightly funnier, but would have robbed the film of its more tender core, which is as integral to the identity of the story as the humour, the two working in tandem.

Considering it has not been particularly embraced by a wider audience that has allowed it to age into a classic of the genre, it is clear that Lovers and Other Strangers is never going to be considered the definitive text on love, despite its very thorough approach to presenting different perspectives. However, it doesn’t intend to be definitive nor thorough – instead, it aims to present a wildly entertaining tapestry of different perspectives, shifting between a range of couples as they navigate the messy, emotional and deeply complex experience of romance, which is never easy to handle, whether at the start or end of a relationship. It does well to extend beyond its stage roots, and while its origins are clear in how the  majority of scenes take place within a single setting and in real-time, it never feels weighed-down by this aspect, instead using its limited scope as a way to dig deep into the lives of these people, showing their innermost quandaries in vivid detail. It is considerably helped by a group of fantastic actors willing to do anything required to make these characters seem authentic, and the director brings his own unique perspective to a narrative that desperately requires his touch to be effective. Solidly crafted, incredibly meaningful and always very entertaining, Lovers and Other Strangers is a thoroughly entertaining and often quite meaningful film that is far more nuanced than we would expect based on a cursory glance.