Sammy Davis Jr. does well with a self-destructive, unlikable role, that of a jazz trumpet player (with the ridiculously Anglo-ized name of Adam Johnson) who finds true love for the first time with a virginal bleeding heart: a sensible civil rights activist who wants to reform the hot-headed musician of his hard liquor and hard-living. Adam, carrying around a multitude of shoulder-chips, lashes out at everybody and never seems to land on his feet; after burning all his bridges, he finds himself at the end of his professional rope--yet the faithful are still hopeful he can make a comeback. Davis mimes the trumpet well enough, but this character is tough to take (if he's not humiliating himself, he's hurting all his loved ones). Much better are Ossie Davis as a friend with a strong center and endless patience, as well as love-interest Cicely Tyson (her sparkling smile is particularly ingratiating, though she has a speech late in the movie about robbing Davis of his manhood that plays all wrong). Mel Tormé stops the show with a terrific rendition of "All That Jazz", while the superb soundtrack and Jack Priestley's gleaming cinematography are first-rate throughout. Director Leo Penn is best at the smaller bits of business; the action happening just left of center is far more interesting than the film's big dramatic moments, which tend to run away from Penn. Worse, the montage-heavy final act is movie-shorthand for the Last Hurrah, a worn-out cliché even in 1966. ** from ****