User reviews

"A New Kind of Love" is a forgettable farce comedy teamed with Newman and Woodward … It's an unpretentious story: a simple, mannish woman foolish1y devotes herself to a career instead of doing what women are supposed to do—hunt for husbands… But she gives her beauty treatment, a new style and expensive clothes and she'll straighten out and find a man… The new look is that after her marked change, the man mistakes her for a prostitute…

Although she's humiliated, she encourages his misunderstanding, telling him sensational stories about herself until he falls in love with her! The implication: if satisfying a man's infantile sex fantasies is the only way to get him, it's better than being an ordinary professional woman…

Joanne Woodward plays a fashion designer who, with blonde hair and showy makeup, actually looks more uninteresting than before…

Newman plays a sportswriter whose athletics with blonds has kept him from winning the Pulitzer Prize… He's an arrogant, alcoholic ill-bred man … As usual, he has some effective lecherous looks and self-disgusted expressions, but with all the charm and the grace

Writer/director Shavelson treads Billy Wilder territory with this Paris-set romantic comedy; nevertheless, he’s more successful penning witty dialogue (making him something of an underrated figure in this genre) than concocting funny situations (which, in spite – or because – of their satirical/fanciful bent come across as heavy-handed most of the time).

Still, it was refreshing to watch the Newmans letting their hair down (incidentally, the couple’s previous stint in the French capital – in Paris BLUES [1961], with which I actually preceded this viewing – had been of a more serious nature): Joanne Woodward, especially, demonstrated a lighter side which has rarely been exploited (and earned a Golden Globe nod in the process)…though she seemed much more at ease playing the tomboyish fashion designer than the tale-spinning high-class ‘broad’.

At 110 minutes, the film eventually wears thin – but the colorful scenery, a nice title tune (sung by Frank Sinatra, no less) and the supporting cast (including Thelma Ritter, George Tobias and Marvin Kaplan, not to mention a fun guest appearance by Maurice Chevalier as himself) ensure that a generally pleasant (albeit forgettable) time is had by all. For what it’s worth, looking up the film in a book my father has on Newman (written by Michael Kerbel), it’s stated that A NEW KIND OF LOVE was “Newman’s worst film” and his career nadir; while that might be too harsh a judgment, I have to say that I am quite fond of Newman’s previous and subsequent comic efforts – respectively Leo McCarey’s RALLY ‘ROUND THE FLAG, BOYS! (1958) and J. Lee Thompson’s star-studded WHAT A WAY TO GO! (1964) – both of which I’ve just acquired following the actor’s demise…

The bad news is that the plot is hackneyed and boring. Reporter Newman mistakes fashion family heir Woodward for high-priced prostitute. The goods news is that the plot is mostly irrelevant, but the chemistry between Paul and Joanne is not, and neither is their comic timing. You also have Thelma Ritter and George Tobias on hand to assure a generous helping of chuckles. I give it 6 out of 10; it's a decent time passer.

When the credits for this one began to roll, accompanied by Frank Sinatra's jazzy update of the standard with the same name as this film's title (and which sounds like an arrangement by Sinatra's frequent and best collaborator, Nelson Riddle, who is, unaccountably, not listed in the credits), I thought I was in for a treat. An attractive cast; top-notch professionals behind the camera; Errol Garner adding his matchless pedigree to the musical scoring; gowns by some of the most renowned Parisian couture houses; plus the participation of several of that era's purveyors of upscale chic; and, finally, Joanne Woodward in a title sequence (designed by George Cukor's frequent visual consultant, Hoyningen-Huene, also listed as this film's color coordinator) surreptitiously snapping photos of the window displays of Manhattan's most expensive retailers. Ah, but what a disappointment followed.

To start, the script is surprisingly and tastelessly lacking in wit; the promised Paris locations are, for the most part, studio recreations; Paramount, by the time of this production, was no longer using its high-quality 70mm VistaVision process for most of its "A"-list productions; and the stars, Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman, were never so thoroughly sabotaged by ridiculous plotting, rarely funny dialogue, and the rather listless direction of Melville Shavelson. And Miss Woodward had also to endure some particularly unflattering hair styles by George Masters, including an ugly platinum wig she was required to wear in several key scenes. (I mean, she can look great as a platinum blonde! Just check out 1960's "From the Terrace.")

There are a (very) few positive attributes, though. Eva Gabor lends a touch of much-needed glamor, as a character named Felicienne (Now there's a name that suits her!); Marvin Kaplan does his usually reliable shtick as the hero's sidekick/schlemiel; and Thelma Ritter, given pitifully little to do, survives this disaster with her fan base intact. But then, toward the end of the proceedings, Maurice Chevalier is dragooned into a seemingly interminable reprise of the music hall hits with which he had long been associated, in a scene where a bevy of females go into paroxysms of ecstasy over his supposedly irresistible Gallic charm. So it finally became apparent why, during the credits, Lanvin and Scandinavian Airlines System, among others, preferred their part in these proceedings to be described as "with the somewhat horrified participation of..." They must have been given a look at a rough cut of this mish-mash before the final release prints were readied. Quel abomination!

Okay, so it's not an art piece, a great classic, or a stellar example of brilliant film- making. But does every movie have to be? This movie is cute, charming and clean (especially when compared to the most of the filth being made today). Paris looks gorgeous, as do Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, and the haute couture fashions are to die for. Sometimes you're just in the mood for something light and frothy, where you don't need to think, analyze or criticize. This movie is ideal for that purpose. I particularly enjoyed the witty comments in the opening credits regarding the fashions used in the picture. While not worth running out and buying (although thanks to my husband and an Amazon wish list accident I do now own the DVD), it would certainly be worth watching if it ran on TV, or even renting if you have a particular fondness for this era, or these actors.

Very much of its time . As in very sexist ! But Paul and Joanne have fun and as always a great chemistry between them . As always Thelma Ritter steals every seen ! Was there ever anyone better at the wise cracking one liners ?!

"A New Kind of Love" is a genuinely bad film--something you'd never expect considering it stars Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. Additionally, having Thelma Ritter for support would also seem to guarantee a much better film. However, despite the talent, the film is terrible--with only a few moments here or there that rise above the rest. The bottom line is that if you have a badly written film, even top stars won't save it.

Paul Newman's character is a HUGE part of the problem. While he's supposed to be a bright and talented newspaper man, he's mostly just a horny guy who spends most of his time chasing women. This is very one-dimensional and makes him hard to like. As for Woodward, she is more interesting--a scared woman who makes herself look far less attractive because of her fears. However, after getting herself a makeover when she's in Paris, he sees her and thinks she's a prostitute--a very expensive prostitute--and that intrigues him. Does any of this sound the least bit romantic? And, does it seem very funny? If your answer to both is 'no', then you see why the film has a lot of problems. All in all, a very disappointing and unfunny movie.

By the way, there really is a Festival of St. Catherines and women really do such silly hats. I assume, however, that most parties for St. Catherines did not involve having Maurice Chevalier showing up to entertain!

We have another suspect in the death of the studio system, if "A New Kind of Love" is what passed for comedy in the early 1960s. Despite the star power in the cast, the spectacular wardrobes and the Parisian locations, this film was the biggest dud I've viewed in a long time. Mel Shavelson was an old-time comedy writer who wrote for some of the biggest stars, but the culture seems to have passed him by by 1963. The dialogue is painfully incoherent, trying desperately for laughs instead of logic. As others have observed here, the characters are unmoored from any motivational continuity, and the script instead relies on stereotypes and farcical slapstick. What a huge disappointment. Thank goodness Paul Newman will be remembered for his triumphs, and not for this dross.

A New Kind Of Love is another attempt by Paul Newman to do comedy. He has a part that maybe Rock Hudson could have carried off. Even playing opposite his wife doesn't do it in the chemistry department. Joanne Woodward is better at comedy than her husband.

In fact for a long time you think you're watching two different films, that's how long it takes for these two to get together. Woodward is on a buying trip for her dress manufacturer George Tobias who takes her and Thelma Ritter to Paris. Woodward's a workaholic career woman who's been burned by romance and wants no more. She even dresses unattractive so much so that Paul Newman on the flight over mistakes her for a man.

Now Newman's been exiled to Paris by his boss Robert F. Simon who he caught kanoodling with his wife. Well if you're going to be exiled, Paris is certainly a good place.

As in all Parisian stories the boy and girl just have to get together, if not in Paris, than where in the world.

George Tobias and Thelma Ritter who are usually a lot better merely walk through their parts. The best reason to see A New Kind of Love is for Maurice Chevalier's cameo as himself when he sings Mimi, Louise, and the title song which incidentally he introduced back in 1930 in The Big Pond. Eva Gabor is around to turn Tobias's head by just being Eva Gabor.

Paul Newman would have to wait more than a decade for triumphant comedy in Slap Shot. He just doesn't cut it in more sophisticated material.

Beautiful view of Paris and NYC in the early-sixties, Newman and Woodward together (I love the way he looks at her), and a silly, simple love story. Couldn't ask for more in these days of COVID19!

The first five minutes were clever and funny, giving me high hopes, but it went downhill after that--down a very steep hill. Joanne Woodward's wardrobe was atrocious, even when she was supposed to have dolled up! Thelma Ritter had nothing to do but whine and certainly deserved better. Woodward, Newman, Ritter--so much talent given so little to work with! The whole sequence with Maurice Chevalier and the parade in the streets made me feel embarrassed for the writers and for Chevalier. The attitude toward women (marriage is what every woman really wants) was very annoying, but given the era, I could have overlooked that if there had been something entertaining somewhere in the move. Don't waste your time.

1963 lay somewhere between Ozzie and Harriet and Janice Joplin and this movie was raunchy "adult fare" for the time but sanitized. The characters couldn't say "virgin" but did say "maiden", couldn't even say "prostitute" but could say it in French ("fille de joie" or something). If you can imagine Paul Newman as a rakish cad who writes Beaudelaire verses on the bare bottoms of his nightly conquests and his real-life partner Joanne Woodward as a dike dress-designer turned tender hearted and vulnerable real woman posing as a prostitute after praying to St. Catherine, then you have a greater (much) ability to suspend disbelief than I do. Badly miscast leads, especially Woodward, despite one sexy scene in a teddy at the end. Otherwise, enjoy Paris, enjoy 60's color, and 60's sophistication and pretend that you are sneaking a look at the naughty movie that your parents wouldn't want you to see.

A New Kind of Love is one of the screwball sex comedies that came out of the 1960s. They were fluffy and had strange music, scantily clad girls, and jokes about sex that were raunchy at the time because of the end of the Hays Code but today seem silly.

In this one, real-life spouses Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward team up for a romantic comedy set in Paris's fashion industry. Newman plays a journalist, and Woodward plays a fashion designer. She's given almost a dual role in this movie: she plays someone whose appearance is regularly mistaken for a man, and who gets mistaken for a prostitute while she's wearing different clothes. Parts of the movie are really cute and funny, but if you're not in the mood for an Austin Powers-esque blast from the past, you'll probably think it's stupid. Just pop your corn, get in a giggly mood, and drool over the eye candy. Oh, the dresses are nice, too.

Bravo to Joanne Woodwood . She wasn't the prettiest , or the most glamorous or even a great actress but she snagged Paul Newman back in the fifties and they stayed married for life and I'm not being unkind to say she was punching well above her weight .

She went on to make many films with her husband but I don't think A New Kind Of Love is up there with the best of them.

The fashion industry and Paris provide the setting for a comedy surrounding the mistaken impression that Joanne Woodward is a high-priced call girl. Paul Newman is the journalist interviewing her for insights on her profession.

This isn't a very good film . It's great to see Paris in the early sixties and to see the attitude about sex that had considerably changed from the fifties but as a film it's pretty poor .

It's a comedy romance that isn't at all funny and doesn't feel very romantic. You get the impression this is just a vehicle for Newman and Woodward , it's just a shame the story is just wacky . It's at least thirty minutes too long. The premise of Sam Blake being someone else goes on too long and I just wanted it to be be over .

There is also a strange narration from Newman and Woodward which feels totally unnecessary. It's a shame this didn't work . A few years earlier Billy Wilder tried to get this made with Yul Brenner , that might have been more interesting.

A New Kind Of Love (1963) -

This film wasn't exactly 'The Devil Wears Prada' (2006), but I could believe that it might have been some sort of inspiration for it. A reverse of that story in its way.

It was another film, of it's time, that taught women that they had to be like everyone else and covered in slap to get a man. That they should change everything that they were for them, as Sandy did for Danny in 'Grease' (1978).

And it showed up the arrogance and rough handed behaviour of men who will believe anything about women, especially the worst.

Personally I couldn't really see the attraction to the lead female character Samantha, played by Joanne Woodward anyway. She was too abrupt, self involved and determined to push people away. I didn't understand how Paul Newmans character Steve fell for either of her personas.

But I could see why she might have fallen for him. I wouldn't have been able to resist Paul, like Marlon Brando, he just oozed sex. I haven't always liked their rough and tough characters though, they got far too angry too easily. I felt the same with 'Hud' (1963) and 'The Hustler' (1961), although I'd go weak at the knees for Stanley in 'A Streetcar Named Desire' (1951), despite Marlon's aggressive behaviour.

I do however believe that the advances we've made in relation to sexism and domestic abuse have been a very good thing, although, based on this film, not quickly enough.

It was quite full of double standards and chauvinism, which didn't help it to appeal to me. The story wasn't exactly very clever in the first place and I probably only stayed with it until the end because Pauls eyes have a habit of hypnotising me.

It definitely got silly, especially after Samantha started to pretend to be French and her transformation from Frog to Princess was awful. In general the film had been okay until then, but I did actually contemplate turning it off during the bike race imagining. In fact most of the dream sequences were quite daft.

It did feel a bit like it was dragging after not very long too. I definitely felt that it could have been edited down a tad.

I enjoyed Maurice Chevalier's cameo appearance. There was something joyous about it that perked the whole thing up for a moment.

Thelma Ritter was brilliant too, as she always has been. She played the role of Lena and actually her story with the Boss Joe (George Tobias) seemed more interesting than the one between the leading pair. I thought that there should have been more of that and perhaps it could have been a film that covered more than just the one relationship, which was a real struggle to believe. I didn't feel the chemistry, despite the fact that Paul and Joanne were married in real life.

Overall it was just a bit too fake and silly, with leading characters that weren't particularly nice. It wasn't hideous, but it was far from good.

401.28/1000.

I'm shocked to see all of the negative reviews for this movie.

Newman was in his prime, Woodward was sexy and funny, the supporting cast was beyond compare.

The split screen of the fashion show and burlesque show remains a classic.

This is good ole fashioned G rated 60's sex farce in the same vein as all those Doris Day - Rock Hudson/James Garner/Cary Grant/Rod Taylor films.

Roamance without getting your hair mussed.

One of my favorite comedies.

I'm not sure what the other reviewers were expecting from this.

True, Newman and Woodward have been in some dramatic classics, but that shouldn't deny them the right to a bit of fluff and fun, LIGHTEN UP !

The story goes that Woodward had to talk Newman into making this and supposedly he never liked it but you wouldn't know that from his performance.

"There will be no further bulletins"

9 out of 10 - never fails to cheer me up.

Nobody likes an oldie more than I. Especially a 60s film showing Paul Newman looking his best. But I couldn't stand this crapola for more than 40 minutes. I kept fast-forwarding hoping it would get better, but nope. It only got worse. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, not even for nostalgia's sake (I was a kid in the 60s). I just gave up and turned it off.

I don't mind a bit of silliness if it comes with a least a modicum of humor and charm. Nothing of the sort here. Just annoying, cringe-worthy nonsense. The only good thing was Frank Sinatra's song during the opening credits. Even the great Thelma Ritter could not save this dreck.

Paul Newman's character is obnoxious and juvenile. Joanne Woodward would have been ok (sort of) if she'd played a 15 year old. Here she's 25. And I'm sorry but I always considered her plain and unattractive. What a hunk like Newman saw in her I will never understand. Yeah, yeah. I know. She was a great actress. And putting too much importance on looks is frivolous and shallow, blah, blah, blah. And in deference to modern feminism and wokism, I suppose I should apologize for saying women can be beautiful. Please yourselves. I still think she was plain and unattractive. And the 'makeover' only made things worse for her. That blonde wig was ridiculous even for the 60s! She went from looking plain to looking comical. She looked far better as a 'tomboy.'

I don't think I need to say more. It's all this silly waste of time deserves. Avoid at all cost. There are much better 60s comedies out there.

As far as pairings of Joanne Woodward and husband Paul Newman go, "A New Kind of Love" lacks the snappy plot and dramatic depth necessary to do its leading actors justice. Woodward steals the show as Sam, a homely and somewhat androgynous fashion designer often mistaken for a man (it's the pageboy haircut and constantly smoldering cigarette in her mouth); Newman is aesthetically pleasing (and alarmingly convincing) in the role of handsome, sarcastic Steve, a New York journalist who pursues more young women than hot story leads.

After an initial awkward opening sequence, the first forty or so minutes of the film are stimulating, with intriguing color schemes and costumes, quick wit and acerbic dialogue, beautiful Parisian scenery and an escalating plot line. Beyond that, however, the plot seems to drag, and frequent unnecessary departures are made from it - the musical montage with Maurice Chevalier, for instance, slows the film down and only serves to severely date the film (not to mention alienate any viewer who is clueless as to who, exactly, Maurice Chevalier is.) Some scenes are played out far beyond their initial artistic effect (the split-screen sequences), while others are confusing and impede the general flow of the storyline (Steve's visions of bawdy tales played out like sports), giving the story an air of ridiculousness instead of credibility.

All in all, this light comedy shines with the sheer romantic energy of Newman and Woodward (I found myself re-watching various parts of the film just to marvel at the undeniable chemistry between the two), but has none of the lasting impact of the pair's other films. It leaves one feeling a bit unsated, perhaps because of the overly-muddled plot that seems to have been convoluted merely to stretch the movie into a 90-minute romp - but the beautiful Woodward sparkles with natural talent, and Newman's on screen presence compliments hers seemingly without effort. Fans of Paul and Joanne will be charmed, but not moved, by this New Kind of Love.

What a waste of talent and celluloid. Everything about it is just so bad including bottles of tomato ketchup on the restaurant tables. In Paris! Product placement is barely acceptable but this is a truly egregious example. Dull. Dull. Dull.

Once again, I've watched a Newman/Woodward film that wasted both their talents and was only worth watching because of them, plus the incomparable Thelma Ritter, Eva Gabor, George Tobias, Robert Clary and - the superb icing on a very bland cake - Maurice Chevalier!!! (He sings a medley of his hit songs that makes you want to smile and cry at the same time, entertaining as well as poignant.)

The storyline itself is rather ridiculous. Joanne plays a fashion buyer/knockoff artist from New York, who dresses more like a man to keep from attracting them, after one of them broke her heart. On a buying trip to Paris (along with boss George and coworker, Thelma she meets drink-too-much-party-too-much-sleep-around-too-much Steve (Newman), under less-than-ideal circumstances, which stay that way for most of the movie, as Sam starts out being mistaken for a man and ends up mistaken for a high-class prostitute! (Told you it was ridiculous!)

Much more entertaining was the triangle between Eva-George-Thelma, which might have made a good movie by itself.

P. S.: that St. Catherine's festival was truly pathetic, only Maurice saved it!

If you miss this one, you really don't miss much.

Why the 15 others who reviewed this before me didn't much care for it I don't understand. Melville Shavelson's script is very intelligent and often very clever, and it is delivered by a cast of uniformly first-rate actor/comedians. (It's no surprise that Shavelson also wrote the script for April in Paris, another romantic comedy set in the French capital. There, however, room had to be made for a too elderly and not really funny Ray Bolger, and the movie suffered for it. Here, with no weak links and a lot of very strong ones, Shevelson didn't have to lower the level of the comedy.)

One of the things I most liked about this very likable movie is that it pokes gentle fun at a host of previous movies, from Breakfast at Tiffany's to The Women to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof to .... Woodward dressed up as a parody of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's is really clever. Or is that a parody of Norma Shearer in Idiot's Delight???

The one thing that won't endear this movie to feminists, and rightfully so, are the repeated pronouncements that women must get married in order to be happy and that they will be miserable until then. I suppose that was necessary to balance the implied shenanigans, but it does get old quickly. For that, try to remember that the movie dates from a fortunately bygone era.

Other than that, there is lots to enjoy here. So enjoy!

That quote, uttered by a tearful Joanne Woodward, is the perfect summation of this frothy sex comedy: It gives us a brief taste of something delicious before breaking off and leaving us cold and disappointed. Let's start at the beginning. Paul Newman is at his coolest as a slick swinger, and Joanne Woodward is appealing as the unkempt, androgynous fashion consultant everyone keeps mistaking for a man. There's a terrific opening, followed by some snappy montages and split screens. But then, about halfway through, the fun's over and the frustration begins. Suddenly everything is presented before the camera in a very bland manner as the plot becomes a ponderous romantic chase into nothingness. The characters begin spouting cliches about love and marriage. And to top it off, the film pulls that awful hooker-housewife double standard still widely in use today: If a man enjoys sex he's a playboy, if a woman enjoys sex she's a tramp. The whole thing becomes so obtrusive and heavy handed that not even the charm of Paul, Joanne, and the bubbly Eva Gabor can save it. Despite being set in red hot, exquisitely photographed Paris, A New Kind of Love's traditional, preachy, and ultimately boring sensibilities would be more at home in suburban Iowa.

Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman were definitely made for each other on screen and off screen. This movie stars two of Hollywood's greatest actors. Paul and Joanne were a couple off screen as well. They play two cynical adults who meet and fall in love under unusual circumstances in Paris, France. Joanne's character is a feminist who would like romance with a man. She is a fashion business woman and Paul plays a sports writer. They meet in Paris under strange circumstances and end up falling in love. Joanne's character goes unrecognizable when she spends an afternoon at an Elizabeth Arden Spa. She is a new woman of Paris and pretends to be a Parisienne like Felicienne (played by Eva Gabor). Paul and Joanne have a good time playing unlikely partners in love. The scenery, art direction, and costumes by the legendary Edith Head add to the film's aesthetic. Thelma Ritter, George Tobias, and Eva Gabor are first rate supporting players. Thelma Ritter is a scene stealer with an old crush on her employer.

Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were certainly in love with Paris :after "Paris Blues" ,"A new kind of love" !(French title : "the girl with the cap"!)But if you love Paris ,you'd better choose "An American in Paris" or "Funny Face" provided you like musicals of course.Anyway "a new...." has Maurice Chevalier,in the flesh,playing himself,singing a little tune.

"A new..." is a dreadful hodge-podge of clichés about Paris and its fashion,postcard style pictures ,and even Sainte-Catherine celebration,which will seem obsolete even to today's French audience.The plot is completely devoid of interest:Newman is a journalist and a lady killer who has been sent to Paris cause he has slept with his boss's wife.Woodward is some kind of fashion Mata-Hari.As far as she is concerned,she is much more attractive dressed up as a tomboy than when she is wearing these horrible wigs.And Thelma Ritter would like to have an onion soup in Les Halles -which were demolished since- with her colleague who does not take any notice of her and her burning love.

Worst scene:Newman taking Woodward he mistakes for a Fille de Joie to the Sacre Coeur so she can redeem her soul .

Newman and Woodward are excellent actors: elsewhere!