The Last Angry Man

Remember when doctors made house calls and were totally dedicated to their patients? Paul Muni sure was that and a lot more in "The Last Angry Man."

Working and living in a depressed neighborhood, Muni was the embodiment of what medicine is supposed to be all about. When he took the Hippocratic Oath, he meant it.

Muni as the crusty but beloved doctor turned in a truly memorable performance. He received an Oscar nomination. Too bad it was the same year as Charlton Heston's winning portrayal of Judah Ben-Hur.

They sure don't make doctors like that anymore. A definite requirement for new doctors and HMOs to watch. The film is absolutely terrific as it embodies the ideals of what it means to be a dedicated doctor caught up in a world of physicians in it for the precious dollar. Steadfast in his beliefs, Muni gave a brilliant performance. He would never compromise his ideals and would always say that so and so is my patient. Just before his untimely demise, he sees that even a violent criminal may yet have some good left in him. This film is a definite call for the positive in humanity. David Wayne is tremendous as the television producer. He hadn't had such a good part since playing opposite Susan Hayward in 1952's "With A Song in My Heart." As Dr. Vogel, Luther Adler showed what the medical profession has come to, but yet shows what it means to be a doctor when his beloved friend is stricken.

Paul Muni is excellent as a doctor in Brooklyn. I remember doctors like him, from when I was a child. They'd leave their dinners to get cold if a patient needed help. Now they mostly give three minutes of their time at most.

The family is allowed to be clearly Jewish. I wonder, though, what the word galoot is about. Muni keeps using it. I think of it as a sort of comic strip term, like calling a boxer a big galoot. Luther Adler, as his friend, another doctor, using some Yiddish.

David Wayne is thoroughly convincing as the crass TV man who decides doc's story would sell pills for his network's sponsor. Everyone is good, really,.

Though the patient we see Muni treating is black, it is not a forced racial drama. His played by Billy Dee Williams and the fine Claudia McNeil is his mother.

I feel this movie tugging on my sleeve and saying, "Hey! Hey! Look how significant I am!" It isn't a great movie but it does its job well and Muni is superb.

Paul Muni came out of retirement from films to make this movie--the first in about a dozen years. According to Robert Osborne (from Turner Classic Movies) this was because Muni was so incredibly difficult to work with that he was virtually blackballed from films. However, you'd never suspect this when you see the film as his performance is flawless. Perhaps it was because Muni might have been playing a part close to heart--a cranky old doctor who was devoted to his patients but also who wasn't afraid to say exactly what was on his mind! The story begins with cranky old Paul having a patient literally dumped on his front steps in the poor part of Brooklyn. You learn that despite working as a doctor for many years, he wasn't concerned with wealth or success as many people would see it. This devotion to duty resulted in a small article in the newspaper and a TV producer (David Wayne) decided an interview show about the doc would be great television. The problem, however, is that cranky old Paul has no interest in fame and getting him to agree to be on TV was a major problem. Just when you think that perhaps he'll finally do the show, other events intercede--leading to a touching but perhaps a bit too melodramatic an ending. I liked the way the film ended but my wife thought it was a bit too much to believe. Regardless, you can't ignore the rest of this lovely film--the acting and writing were exceptional. With minimal stunts and action, the film managed to entertain and make you think.

Overall, a powerful and interesting film that is perhaps marred a tad by a bit too much sentimentality and melodrama--but not so much that you should avoid the movie.

PS--Didn't David Wayne's boss remind you of Larry Tate from "Bewitched"? See the film and you'll understand what I mean.

The Last Angry Man marks the farewell big screen appearance of Paul Muni who had been for about a dozen years concentrating on his stage career. Muni goes back to his roots in this one playing an elderly Jewish doctor in a mixed Brooklyn neighborhood of 1959. He upholds a lot of values that the present generation seems to have lost. He's a man content to be a general practitioner and even makes house calls. He lives with wife Nancy Pollock and nephew Joby Baker.

Baker is an aspiring journalist and writes a story about his uncle when he saves a young black woman played by an unknown Cicely Tyson at the time. A local paper picks it up and it comes to the attention of TV producer David Wayne who thinks the doctor might be a good subject for a television documentary.

Wayne gets a lot more than he bargained for, Muni is quite the opinionated crusty old soul and not willing to just go on the air like a Queen for a Day contestant. He likes his life the way it is, doing good work for it's own reward and enough to live on. This puts him in conflict with Baker and with Wayne who are a pair that could have been working models for Budd Schulberg's Sammy Glick. People like that who want a quick buck without the work, Muni calls galoots and they seem to be multiplying in his life.

Daniel Mann directs a finely tuned cast in support of Paul Muni's swan song. This film marks an early appearance of Billy Dee Williams as a brain tumor stricken teenager who his mother, Claudia McNeil brings to Dr. Muni for help. Muni of course takes him to his lifelong friend, a Park Avenue neurosurgeon played by Luther Adler.

Adler has one of his great screen roles also here. He and Muni both went way back over 40 years to the Yiddish Theater on New York's Lower East Side. That helps in both of their performances as lifelong friends and colleagues because they actually were.

Others of note in the cast are Dan Tobin as the sleazy network executive Betsy Palmer as Wayne's supportive wife and Robert F. Simon as the head of the drug company that would sponsor the show.

It's Paul Muni's show and a really grand farewell to one of the finest actors ever.

Paul Muni is "The Last Angry Man" in this 1959 film directed by Daniel Mann and also starring Luther Adler, David Wayne, Betsy Palmer and Billy Dee Williams. This has the look and feel of a TV show, and evidently it may have been on Playhouse 90 before being done as a feature film.

The movie is interesting for a few reasons. First of all, it concerns reality television, which is very timely. A producer (David Wayne) takes an interest in an old doctor (Muni) working in a depressed neighborhood and wants to feature him on television. He's a little hard to pin down because he's always running off to take care of one of his patients. Of special concern is a black man (Williams) who has a brain tumor.

The other reason it was interesting to me is that the producer says that 30 million people would see the TV show. He's right - back then, 30 million people could tune in to a television show. A top TV show today can garner 8-10 million viewers.

Paul Muni was an interesting actor - in the 1930s, he basically hid himself in disguises, heavy makeup and costumes in order to create a role; as he proved in films like Scarface and I Was a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, he didn't need to resort to all of that. He was, however, like Luther Adler, a stage actor from another time, and also like Adler, a graduate of the Yiddish theatre, and some of the acting here by the two of them is bigger than what we're used to seeing today, so it comes off as hammy. In one of her classes, Stella Adler said, "You don't know any great actors." That was probably a quote from the 1970s. If we didn't know any great actors in the 1970s, we sure wouldn't know any today if they whacked us over the head. What is great changes; television was one of the big reasons that acting styles changed. Also, many of the characters are overtly Jewish in a way that today may seem stereotypical. It's also fascinating to see a very young Billy Dee Williams in an early role, along with Godfrey Cambridge and Cecily Tyson in smaller parts. Again, some of the depictions here of urban problems come off as overwrought. This is the kind of movie one needs to see in light of the time it was made and not by today's standards to be better appreciated.