Mister Buddwing

I recently saw this on TCM and was surprised that I had never seen this before. Based on the novel by popular novelist/writer Evan Hunter who wrote such classics as The blackboard Jungle and the screenplay for The Birds this was adapted for the screen by Hunter and Dale Wasserman. this is the story of an amnesiac (James Garner) who wakes up on a Central Park park bench with no idea who he is. Dressed in a gray suit he discovers only two possible clues to his identity, a ring with the initials G.V. inscribed and a piece of paper with a telephone number on it. He has the name of Grace in his mind who he assumes must be his wife and so with the lack of a name of his own his creates one on the spur of the moment in Sam Buddwing and begins his search through Manhattan of himself and of Grace. His adventure brings him to several memorable characters in Angela Lansbury as the loose woman with a kind heart Gloria, Suzanne Pleshette as actress Fiddle Corwin, Katherine Ross as the pretty and studious Janet, Jack Gifford as restaurant owner Izzy Schwartz, Joe Mantell as the 1st cab driver, George Voskovec as a shabby old man who calls himself God and Jean Simmons as the high society blonde out on treasure hunt for a party. This film was nominated for two Academy Awards for Best Black and White Art direction and Best Black and White Costume. It has a gritty New York location feel and frequently uses hand-held cameras and is photographed by cinematographer Ellsworth Fredricks. Directed by Delbert Mann best known for directing such classics as Marty, Desire Under the elms and Separate Tables this is not one of his best but it's quirky and interesting and hold your interest thanks to great on screen performances by the fine cast. Garner is better served as an actor when he has some light comedic roles and he falls a little short in this straight dramatic role where he only smiles once briefly in the entire film. The ending falls short too but all in all it's a different film and I would give it a 7.5 out of 10.

"Mister Buddwing" has an interesting start. Seen from the POV of the protagonist, we find ourselves in Central Park. Searching our pockets for clues to our identity--because already it is clear that we have amnesia--we find a train schedule, 2 pills, a phone number and a ring with an inscription. As a jazz track plays in the background, we make our way out of the park and into a hotel where we see our reflection. We are James Garner!

Already we know this is a very stylish film. Most of the remainder of the film is shot third-person, but the camera does use POV for dramatic effects later.

Garner, now knowing what he looks like, calls the mysterious phone number and a woman answers. He is clever enough to get an invitation to meet the woman. He hopes to find clues to his identity. He stumbles outside the hotel and the New York streets are impossibly uncrowded and quiet, contributing a feeling of loneliness. He cobbles together a temporary name for himself (Sam Buddwing) using pieces of visual clues outside. Up until the naming, the film is dead-on mysterious and interesting. Why does he construct the name? It seems pointless. And his response to his temporary name is not authentic and only distracts.

According to a trivia note on this site, this was James Garner's least favorite among his films. I imagine it was embarrassing for him. What is frustrating is that the film had potential. If only the stylish photography and music were not undercut by useless scenes and bad dialogue.

The cast is fun to watch. Angela Lansbury, Jean Simmons, Suzanne Pheshette, Katharine Ross! And most of the acting is excellent. Garner himself has some dicey moments, but I wonder if that was due to the direction. Angela Lansbury shows her range again, playing a low-class, fading housewife who can still manage a motherly feeling or a tender moment. Katharine Ross is a student at NYU, who is suspicious of Buddwing's intent. Suzanne Pleshette is an adventurous actress who falls for Buddwing's charms almost immediately. Jean Simmons is a well-to-do woman on a scavenger hunt, but willing to change course on a whim or a premonition, in search of thrills.

When Buddwing meets these women, he enters a dream state that seems to have clues to his identity. Are they flashbacks? Eventually, the stories seem to overlap. It should makes things even more confusing, but somehow this conceit is fathomable. By the end of the story, all is clear.

Fans of NYC will probably enjoy the many identifiable locations (e.g. Washington Square and Shubert Alley).

One has the feeling that if some annoying items were excised, this film could be a classic. Some dialogue is inappropriate to the moment in the story. Some scenes were totally without value and, therefore, distracting. There are moments when the background music does not fit the action. Mostly small things.

After all the mystery, the ending is rather flat, a disappointment.

The 60's were skinny ties and lapels, three-martini lunches, Chrysler convertible pavement yachts and Brylcreem, if you were lucky. If you were somehow less satisfied, it was protest or dogged acceptance that the game had been fixed long before you appeared on the scene, or more politely, you simply hadn't been invited to the party. James Garner (Rockford, Support Your Local Sheriff, They Only Kill Their Masters, etc) portrays a once successful but displaced everyman who has to wallow in the mire to face long-buried demons. A string of attractive women appear and vanish, like identifying a catchy tune by its chorus, each providing shards of who Buddwing is and why he tried to run. A barely recognizable New York is Supporting Actor, and the visual style leaves one feeling an effect similar to liberal dosages of NyQuil. It will strike you, however briefly.

The whole feel of this film is great - soundtrack, cinematography, location filming - but ultimately, the storyline reveals its secrets well before the final scene. The actors attracted me to this film, shown very early in the morning on Turner

Classic Movies. Late night viewing is perfect for a mid-sixties, black-and-white, jazzy sort of feature. For the first thirty minutes, I was quite intrigued by the plot. It reminds me of Gregory Peck's "Mirage," a similar (and superior) amnesia- based movie from the 60s. The location filming is perfect, though I know NYC is never that dead, having taken a walk by the Plaza Hotel at 7 in the morning, on a Sunday.

The actors cannot be at fault, and I'm certain that the original novel is quite interesting. Perhaps this particular amnesia variation just doesn't work on film.

After the first "flashback," involving Katherine Ross, her "real-life" presence simply vanishes, unlike the other two women who later provide Garner's

character with memory enhancers. This must be to initially throw us off track, as viewers. Incorrectly, I assumed Ross's character was a complete fabrication. Then, later in the film, Suzanne and Simmons are indicated to be real, as is

Lansbury's "Gloria." Garner simply uses their presence to reformulate images of his wife. There is also a bit of cheating regarding repetitive dialogue between the three women. The "real" Simmons repeats dialogue of the "imaginary"

Suzanne; this must be pure coincidence, as Garner cannot dictate what an

"actual" person says. (Believe me, this makes sense, if you've seen the film.)

The film is ultimately disappointing. By the half-way mark, I knew what the

outcome would be.

One side note - that scene with the cop in Washington Square is totally dated and ridiculous. And, PLEASE, can we avoid all NYC scenes involving

characters running into a dead-end alley?????? It has become one of the

major clichés of NYC-based films and TV series.

I don't know why this web site messes up my paragraphs and spacing!!?????

There is something deeply touching and oddly disarming about this wonderful film, but as the above poster comments, the film does not quite fulfill its remit.

I have watched this film on a number of occasions because of its sombre dream-like quality - the juxtaposition of slap-in-the-face reality and those almost womb-like immersions into Buddwing's memories.

The score is brilliant, the lighting dramatic and memorable.

The cast - brilliant, but it pains me to say this as a massive, massive fan of James Garner - he shows his limitations as an actor in this one.

Note the self-naming scene. "Bud.....wing.... I..have a name" too dozy, and that crying scene after he faced off with the madman who claimed he was god. Poor Jimmy looked like he'd be pepper-spayed.

However, because of Garner's form, I like this film even more. Garner's character should be vulnerable, extremely so, because of his predicament. To see Garner himself vulnerable and out of his league in the role works almost better than great acting would. And what was that look on his faced when Grace-2 asked him if was "one of those AC/DC types" ??

There's still something magical about Garner's presence. He's a winner.

The film comes across as a stage play adapted for film - a piece of beat poetry acted out by conservatives. Strange, half realized, surreal, and finally a flawed gem.