So wonderful, so quirky, so romantic, so Italian. The film is so feather -light you float off into its refracted reality and you never want to return to the humdrum again. A kitchen sink world of bakeries, and hairdressers, and plumbing, but one that shimmers with a soft luminescence. Should the credit go to the screenplay or the direction? Take your pick -- they're both faultless. Let me get back to that New York City that lies just beyond the looking glass.
Review of Moonstruck
