My Geisha would be very easy to dismiss were it not for Shirley Maclaine's captivating star performance. Certainly, the plot is so ludicrous that it would take a screenwriter with enormous insight and sensitivity (and, hopefully, an unerring ability to craft witty and incisive dialogue) to lift the film anywhere above average. Suffice it to say that, while Norman Krasna does supply a few one-liners and does manage to give the film a somewhat surprisingly serious side, he does not otherwise overcome the limitations of the plot. A really strong director would also have helped, but Jack Cardiff's work in terms of storytelling, pacing, and melding the comic and the serious into a unified whole are merely average. However, credit does go to Cardiff for the film's lovely travelogue look, and for letting Edith Head have her way in designing the gorgeous costumes. But it's Maclaine that is the film's saving grace, using her pixieish charm, oddly appealing looks, and quirky combination of winsomeness and ambition to give the film abundant life. She's funny even when handed lines that ought to fall flat, can break your heart when required, and only has to let those weirdly enthralling eyes get a hint of moisture to have you ready to follow her anywhere. True, there's absolutely no spark between her and Yves Montand, who seems uncomfortable throughout, but most viewers won't care. She's much more than My Geisha deserves, and without her, there would be little reason to watch.