Hurry Sundown

This is the most embarrassing excuse for a serious picture I have ever seen.

I'm sure "Hurry Sundown" tested the pre-ratings MPAA for it's supposedly frank depiction of sexual themes. It probably required television editing as ABC ran this film several times in the early '70s.

You could cut the sexual tension with a knife if it wasn't so funny. Jane Fonda seductively playing the sax with Michael Caine was probably suggestive enough to cause the censors to get nervous. But then we have Faye Dunaway's cartoonish overacting in that bedroom scene with John Phillip Law. At least poor white trash have healthy sex lives.

The only thing criminal about this movie is that it attempted to tackle the thorny subject of race relations in the 1940s in such a cheap, heavy handed manner.

Lousy Otto Preminger film from K. B. Gilden's bestseller (adapted by Thomas C. Ryan and, of all people, Horton Foote!) concerns a greedy white land-owner in Georgia planning to dupe his wife's black guardian and her sharecropper husband out of their real estate, setting off a race war. Everyone is here, from Faye Dunaway to Brady dad Robert Reed, but the script is such a mess--and Preminger is so ham-handed--that nobody survives "Sundown" without looking foolish. Jane Fonda flirts with husband Michael Caine using his saxophone (!) while Beah Richards pantomimes a heart attack as if this were a stage-play. Preminger goes out of his way to make the rich whites despicable and the black folk saintly and reasonable--so much so that the picture might have started its own race war in 1967 (probably the exact type of controversy the director wanted). It certainly gave work to many underemployed, sensational actors like Madeleine Sherwood, Diahann Carroll, Rex Ingram and Jim Backus, but results are laughable. *1/2 from ****

I get the impression that most of the comments here are more influenced by the entry in "The 50 Worst Films of All Time" than by the film "Hurry Sundown" itself. Personally I don't give much credit to that book since I consider Michael Medved to be one of the four or five worst film reviewers of all time.

"Hurry Sundown" has been pretty much out of circulation in recent years. I shudder to think how network censors would have butchered it when it was broadcast on TV; anyone who saw it that way saw a different movie. It is now finally available on a good widescreen DVD and also on Amazon and Netflix streaming. I had been wanting to see it for a long time, if for no other reason than it being one of the handful of mainstream Hollywood films to earn a "condemned" rating from the Catholic Legion of Decency.

It wasn't nearly as bad as I expected; in fact I thought it was pretty good. It held my unflagging interest for its almost two-and-a-half hour running time, which is an accomplishment in itself; the worst thing a movie can be is boring. Not a great film, but an entertaining piece of Southern Gothic.

I couldn't get that upset at the casting of Michael Caine. I've certainly heard worse southern accents in movies. How about "Gone with the Wind" in which two of the four leads were played by Brits (and neither Leslie Howard nor Clark Gable even tried to sound southern)? Caine looked and sounded tentative in the opening helicopter scene (maybe that was the first scene filmed) but got more comfortable with the part as it went along. In many ways, Caine fit the role perfectly, since his character was a self-absorbed philanderer just like "Alfie."

People have scoffed at Burgess Meredith's racist judge, but let's face it, folks – people like that really existed in the South back then (and maybe still do; is that Arizona sheriff much different?). Was Meredith's portrayal much more over-the-top than Ed Begley's in "Sweet Bird of Youth", which won an Oscar? I got the impression that Meredith might have been basing his character on George Wallace (the pre-1968 version), and he wouldn't have been far off.

As for the poor having better sex than the rich, well that's one of those clichés that just might have a bit of truth in it, especially when the poor girl is Faye Dunaway.

Were the black characters over-idealized? Perhaps, but that is the way Hollywood handled race issues back in the civil rights era. See, for example, pretty much anything starring Sidney Poitier. I don't remember anyone trying to make a film of William Faulkner's "Light in August," in which the central character is a mixed-race psychopath.

"Hurry Sundown" is a good choice when you want a nice juicy wallow in southern decadence. The color photography is pretty good, as is the musical score by Hugo Montenegro.

This mint julep melodrama is a hooty delight. I suppose that at the time it was meant to shine a light on racial injustice in the south but it just comes off as an over-baked soap opera. Preminger was the wrong director for such a piece of honeyed excess, this is the type of thing at which Douglas Sirk excelled and could make trenchant observations while still entertaining the masses. Still worth watching for the cast alone. Jane Fonda gives the most enjoyable performance even if her honeychile accent comes and goes. And even as a sharecropper's wife with four kids Faye Dunaway manages to look ravishing. If you like overdone melodramas with lots of stars and little sense than this is for you, if not stay away!

You know, if the South ever does rise up and crush the North, they could use this movie as a perfect reason to do so.

"Hurry Sundown" is without a doubt the worst, most reprehensible treatment of human beings (of all race, creeds and colors) ever perpetrated by a "name" director (or any director, for that matter). Even the fact that it was co-written by Horton Foote lends little to nothing to a story that spends all of its lengthy running time creating living, breathing stereotypes.

Caine plays a good ol' Southern boy (yeah, right) who plans to buy up all the land in the South including two parcels owned by a poor hard-working colored family led by Robert Hooks and a poor hard-working white trash family led by John Philip Law...no matter what.

All kinds of Simon Lagree-type antics ensue from courtroom hysterics, lynch mobs, floods and Burgess Meredith in one of his most overblown performances ever as a bigoted judge who snarls out every third word or so.

There's a monumental cast at work here (Carroll, Dunaway, Kennedy, etc.) and you even get to see Jane Fonda work Caine's saxophone, but why did it have to gather for THIS story? The treatment of black people here is right out of a minstrel show and is beneath contempt, even for Hollywood. And the sexual hijinks within will make you cringe, no matter how much you think you can take.

What else can I say? Critics of the day lambasted this loser left and right, the National Catholic Office condemned it and its box office hardly covered the film stock it was printed on. If nothing else, "Hurry Sundown" will make all races unite - to track down Otto Preminger.

Not one single, solitary star for this claptrap. Avoid "Hurry Sundown" at all costs; do your part for civil rights.