Neil Bahadur’s review published on Letterboxd:
Welles’s most outwardly poetic work - Mr. Clay's subplot is essentially the epilogue to Citizen Kane, but imbued with the classicalism we see in Ambersons and Chimes. Here, it feels like a almost floating film. It’s equal parts the most tender and erotic film Welles ever made; the latter an anomaly in Welles’s cinema, and the bedroom sequence is my favorite part of all his movies. Is it minor? It's smaller for sure, a real cinematic short story - but it hits notes Welles would never hit before or since.