The Great Bank Hoax

Discovering this film is tantamount to feeling like an archaeologist coming across an extraordinary fossil of unknown origin: directed by a treasured old friend of Martin Scorsese, produced by the acclaimed editor of Sidney Lumet's "The Pawnbroker" and several Woody Allen comedy classics, starring a then newly re-discovered Burgess Meredith after 1976's "Rocky" had brought him back into the public eye, with Ned Beatty of "Network" and "Deliverance" fame and the venerable Richard Basehart, Micheal Murphy, the forgotten Paul Sand, and beautiful Constance Forslund and lovely Charlene Dallas rounding out the cast. But this alone does not begin to describe the particularly strange and noteworthy qualities of "The Great Bank Hoax", for it appears to be a movie existing in an alternate and twilight-set universe of it's very own. Shot on location in the small town of Madison, Georgia, there is a sense of almost vivid suffocation and claustrophobia pervading every square inch of the film's atmosphere, most specifically it's prison cell-like spaces with actors crammed into tiny curtained backrooms, teller's cages, and dimly-lit storage closets, it's empty and economically depressed Jimmy Carter-era Main Street with it's sad and bored high school orchestra and threadbare Fourth of July parade, it's rotting and isolated clapboard church ministered by a corrupt priest and surrounded by overgrown trees and forlorn stained glass windows, it's black-walled bingo parlor, lonely rooming houses, cracked country backroads, and dingy old motels, and most specifically it's melancholic and very off-kilter comic tone fueling it's allegorical Watergate satire, neither slapstick or laugh-out loud funny, but more of an aching and ill-defined humorous desperation, representing both the film's November 1978 release date and the waning days of that decade's diminishing faith in any sense of institutional post-Nixonian reform or improvement, a snapshot in time before the rise of a neo-conservative revolution that would sweep a fundamentalist Republican into the White House a mere 24 months later, leading directly towards our own present-day drama of 21st-century global malaise. Beneath it's surface of scheming females, bumbling bankers, and phony Christians lies one of the last remaining anti-establishment comedies that would quickly flourish and then disappear in the aftermath of the classic "Animal House", so it behooves any dedicated film historian to unearth and appreciate it's unique and singularly eccentric charms.

LOVE Ned Beatty! He plays one of the bigshots at a small town bank where a chunk of money is missing, and the auditors are on the way, kind of an updated "Bank Dick", but W.C. Fields is long gone. Most viewers will recognize Beatty from Deliverance, or Hopscotch. The other bank big wigs are Richard Basehart and a seventy year old Burgess Meredith (The Penguin!) In our story, the Great Bank Hoax, the bank's chief clerk (Richard) meets up with a sultry, young Patricia at bingo night, and they head off to her place, but they aren't after the same thing... she just wants a loan from the bank, and he's after something else. Meanwhile, the bank directors are coming up with a plan to keep the auditors from knowing just how much is SUPPOSED to be in the vault.... One of the bank employees has a guilty conscience, and must get advice from the town priest. The pace is quite "relaxed", and there are a couple of slapstick gags and surprises, but it all works, as long you keep your expectations in check. Directed by indie writer/director Joseph Jacoby, who only worked on five projects.

A listless movie with no jokes, not even any wit, and a plot that's muddier than a WWI trench, this movie earned its obscurity. The chief clerk at Pewter Bank & Trust is a beta male, Smedley (Paul Sand), who easily embezzles >$100K because of lax bookkeeping and a trio of inept bank managers: cigar-chomping Stutz (Burgess Meredith), chicken-hearted Benchly (Richard Basehart), and punctilious Julius played by Ned Beatty, whose humorlessness is the funniest thing in the movie.

Instead of pressing charges against Smedley, they conspire to steal another $100K and cook the books in an attempted cover-up. Don't ask.

Michael Murphy plays a lightly corrupt clergyman whom several of the thieves foolishly confide in. Arthur Godfrey is pointless as a town father who organizes patriotic parades, presumably an attempt by writer/director Joseph Jacoby to provide contrast to the crooks in their midst. But when the crooks are as lifeless as the rest of the citizens, there is no contrast.

As for obligatory females, there are two, obviously cast for reasons other than talent. Both actresses are further insulted by playing the same character, a gold-digging trollop. The brunette is Charlene Dallas, who made three movies in the 1970s, then some scattered TV roles. The blonde, Constance Forslund, got her MFA from New York University and had a more substantial career, peaking as Marilyn Monroe in "This Year's Blonde," a 1980 TV movie written by Garson Kanin. She deserved better than this, as did they all.

Burgess Meredith observed that the movie has "no car chases, nobody shoots anybody, nobody even yells at anybody, and nobody gets laid." In fact there are seductions, and one getaway car roars past another (with suitcases full of cash ineptly strapped over the trunk!). As for "nobody yells," true enough, but a few potent statements could have injected some energy into the endless yammering about the money.

This is by no means a comedy on the level of "The Ladykillers," "Young Frankenstein," or "The Odd Couple," but it definitely has its charms. It is true that, as other viewers have said, it unwinds at a pace that could kindly be called "relaxed" but I find that to be one of its charms. It is enjoyable to see how, ever so gradually, the characters start digging their holes deeper and deeper. Interest is also maintained by the continual revelation of new interrelationships between the characters, until one is never quite sure who is hoodwinking who. Another plus is the fine cast, of which Burgess Meredith is the standout. His portrayal of the crustily beguiling Stutz almost carries the movie. Basehart plays against type as a highly nervous milquetoast type, and Ned Beatty is good as the befuddled controller. Arthur Godfrey's minimal contribution was purely for the marquee. The movie is also blessed with the presence of two highly delectable female leads whose pulchritude is generously displayed. Finally, the production values are excellent, especially regarding color (they don't use techniques like this anymore because of the expense), and the movie is a joy to watch.

I recorded this about four years ago and finally got round to watching it tonight.

It's a simplistic and boring tale of bungling and embezzlement in a sleepy bank in a non-descript town.

A struggle to watch till the end.

2/10