A remake without an edge.

It's only after rereading W. Somerset Maugham's classic novel The Razor's Edge that I can appreciate how truly bad the 1984 film was. That Bill Murray thought for a single moment that he was suited to play Larry Darrell is the height of conceit. He doesn't have the looks, the gravitas, or the understanding of the character. Perhaps Tyrone Power didn't either, but he had the smoldering good looks and dark mysterious eyes to suggest the depths of the complex character. But more annoying than the cast, some of which was believable, was the arrogance of the scriptwriter assuming he could improve on Maugham's story by filling in what Maugham chose to leave out. Sophie learning of the death of her husband and child was not in the book, nor was the insipid collage of Larry and Sophie falling in love, nor the war scenes.  Catherine Hicks was a fine Isabel Bradley, but who could compete with the ravishingly beautiful Gene Tierney. I can't compare the other characters in the two films until I see the 1946 version again, but one suspects that Clifton Webb was a superior Elliot Templeton to the talented Denholm Elliott. And since Anne Baxter (not one of my favorites) won the Academy Award for best supporting actress, one assumes her Sophie MacDonald was impressive. But, still, one wonders why they ever remade The Razor's Edge and chose such a flat-aspect actor as Bill Murray, a comedian,  to essay such a complicated role.