Try counting black sheep....William Beaumont, a film actor, whose wife, Mia, burned to death in front of his eyes, who is haunted by nightmare memories of her, who returns home to find his pajamas slashed to ribbons and a meathook on his pillow? Or Jerome Thomas, his publicity agent, who has hired a private detective to follow him? Or Christine, Jerome's wife, who is meeting Beaumont for a little love in the afternoon? Or Lawrence Dunne, Beaumont's old friend, who is observed pinching flowers from Mia's grave? This scenario moves from Positano to Venice to London with rather opulent as well as foolish touches: a cherry red fur bed throw; women with hyacinthine curls: or golden nenuphars. Thus evil assumes a rather studied extravagance. There must be a better way to stay awake.