An American Dream

Stuart Whitman plays a hard-hitting television journalist intent on taking on the mob with a rich, shrewish wife, Eleanor Parker. After he helps his wife take a nosedive over the balcony of her penthouse suite, she hits the car of the mafioso. Then, this flurry of coincidences continues as he discovers that one of the Mafiosos is dating his long lost love, Janet Leigh. Geez.

The lurid, over-the-top first act of this film caught my interest, but I only stayed with it as a morbid curiosity. The dialog was horrible. Perhaps they lifted it from Mailer's book, but literary dialog often makes for bad screen dialog. Even worse, now one in this film behaves like a real human being would behave. Stuart knows the police believe he murdered his wife, so what does he do? The night he is released from questioning, he immediately hooks up with his ex-girlfriend and sleeps with her! (This, despite the fact that he knows he is being followed the police!) The mafia don literally threatens Stuart in a room of police officers. Janet Leigh stays with him despite him calling her a whore. His father-in-law doesn't really seem to care whether his beloved daughter was murdered or not as long as her death isn't labeled suicide so that he bury her in a Catholic cemetery. I could go on and on.

The film is absurd. It deserves the Mystery Science Theater 3000 treatment. In the end, the most interesting thing was trying to figure out what TV shows from the '60s and '70s the supporting players ended up on.

The film was ridiculous but that theme song will live forever. A Time for Love, by Johnny Mandel, has an unforgettable melody and Mandel's arrangement, playing over the opening credits, was the best part of the movie. Vidal Sassoon also gets special mention for Janet Leigh's chic hairstyle. The pacing and direction were so weak, I lost interest early on. I was hoping the movie would be good but it wasn't. The five stars go to Johnny Mandel. The rest of the movie deserves a big fat zero.

This has every appearance of a mid-1960s contemporary television drama, filmed on 1960s television studio sets, using 1960s television lighting, using 1960s television music, with overskilled movie actors for the roles they're given. I expect an epilogue announcing "this is a quinn-martin production." t Janet Leigh's 1940 noir moll dialogue is ludicrous almost to the point of spoof. Eleanor Parker's portrayal is grotesque, indulgent, and minimally watchable. There are some interesting police procedural tidbits, almost lifted from Dragnet. J.D. Cannon is great as a Joe Friday with anger issues.

The two stars, Whitman and Leigh, seemed to take a mini-vacation from acting. They're both easy to watch, but seem distracted or tired or like they're donating their time for free. I don't know what the norman mailer novel was like, but I hope to god it wasn't like this movie.

War hero Stephen Richard Rojack (Stuart Whitman) is a call-in TV show host. He's on a rampage against mob boss Ganucci. He's separated from his violent drunk wife. She comes at him with a bottle and he almost chokes her. She falls off the balcony to her death. Only the sexy maid Ruta is in the apartment and he is taken in by the police. It just so happens that Uncle Ganucci's car run over the wife after her fall. Rojack's former lover Cherry McMahon (Janet Leigh) happens to be in the car also.

I'm mostly interested in this for being a Norman Mailer novel. It starts with an interesting premise until the story conveniently has Ganucci's car run over the body. It's a bad contrivance that takes me out of the movie. This could have been a tense crime drama. Instead, it's stuck in melodrama. Even the acting is stuck. There is a lack of action after the incident. Even the ledge scenes lack the intensity of normal vertigo. There are loads of turns but non of it is compelling. It's hard to care about Rojack's life or his dilemma.

How did Warner Brothers and producer William Conrad get such a fine "A" cast for this sudser? Keep in mind, Janet Leigh and Eleanor Parker were not that long off their "A" list roles in "Harper" and "The Sound of Music," respectively. Keep in mind that Stuart Whitman had just come off "Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines." This is the worst written movie based upon a book by a fine novelist (Norman Mailer) I've seen, except, perhaps, for "Mr. Budwing" (written by Evan Hunter). Interestingly, both films have "A" list actors and both were released in 1966. Perhaps more unfortunate is the lack of chemistry between Whitman and Janet Leigh. In order for this tripe to even begin to work requires a smoldering passion between the leads. Further, Leigh looks at least 10 years older than her 39 years, and she is playing a 29 year old(!). Parker looks more glamorous (and younger, at 44) as the drugged-out wife. Too bad, producer William Conrad didn't hire Israeli actress Ina Balin for the Leigh role. Balin was the right age and provided considerable sexual tension with Whitman in "The Commancheros".

Mailer's storyline is so stupidly contrived it is impossible to believe. If Mailer's intent was cynicism to the point of nihilism, he only succeeded by making all the characters behave as idiots.

The only really worthwhile elements of the film are the song (Oscar nominated) and the performances of Eleanor Parker and Lloyd Nolan (as Parker's father). They bring luster, albeit briefly to a movie more akin to a cow pie.

I give "An American Dream" a "3".