Mike Figgis's film began as a brooding account of the affair between Mr Jones (Gere), an erratic depressive, and Libbie (Olin), his dedicated, love-struck psychiatrist. But Gere, it seems, resisting typecasting and attempting to give his role some depth, started panic bells ringing in Hollywood executive offices. With the result that post-production tampering reduced an apparently sombre film - about (among other matters) whether the psychiatrist has the right to deprive Jones of his sometimes dangerous 'highs' - to an essentially empty, over-hyped, feel-good movie. In its present state, the film veers unsteadily between overblown romance and a portrait of a disturbed and pained man as a wacky guy who's fun to be with. Small wonder that the director has disowned the release version.