A Fine Madness is a brave attempt by all concerned, one of those films where the powers behind it are trying so hard that the viewer desperately wants the end result to be a great film -- but it's not. It's not a bad film, mind you, and it's not a blight on anyone's record, but the reach of Madness far exceeds its grasp. Part of the problem lies with the screenplay. Elliott Baker has done a fine job of adapting his own novel, but it's easier to make an obnoxious, misunderstood character the subject of a book than of a film. The peculiar blend of wryness, irony, and whimsy also is harder to pull off, despite director Irvin Kershner's game (and sometimes successful) attempts. It's clear, of course, why Sean Connery was drawn to the film, as Shillitoe is the kind of character than any actor would give his eye-teeth to play. But, as good as Connery is -- and at times, he is quite good -- his performance is a performance; he is acting the part rather than inhabiting it. Connery's star power and charisma make his work enthralling -- but also less than involving. Joanne Woodward also tries hard, but she's not natural casting for the role. The best acting, as a matter of fact, comes from the supporting players, including a lovely turn by Colleen Dewhurst, an amusing bit by Sorrell Booke and an hilarious characterization by Clive Revill. A Fine Madness is rather unique, and there's more than enough to make it worth catching -- but also more than enough to keep it from being the kind of picture it wants to be.