Hurry Sundown

It's difficult to concisely describe the plot of Hurry Sundown; it's a film about the racial divide, family squabbles, class distinction, and corporate takeover of land. Among the subplots are marital difficulties, Southern life, parenthood, a developmentally challenged child, questionable honor of the legal system, and coming-of-age dilemmas.

Michael Caine is married to Jane Fonda, and while they're a well-to-do Southern couple on the outside, beneath the surface lies infidelity and parenting issues. Michael's poor cousin, John Phillip Law, is married to Faye Dunaway, and he also has trouble with his children. Robert Hooks and his mother Beah Richards live on land that used to belong to Jane's family, back when they owned slaves. As a gift, they gave the land to Beah, but when Michael Caine's company wants to build on it, racial tensions lead to unforeseen consequences that affect all three families.

Even though I have a soft spot in my heart for Michael Caine and refuse to ever really see him as a bad guy, he's known for his meaner roles. In Hurry Sundown, he's just about as mean as it gets. He gives a fantastically chilling performance, and his Southern accent is nearly flawless. Faye Dunaway also stands out in her smaller role, since it's unlike the cold, calculating, classy roles she usually takes. Be on the lookout for Diahann Carroll, Burgess Meredith, and George Kennedy as the adorable but incompetent sheriff.

This is a very well-acted film that fits in with other hot-blooded films of its time, like In the Heat of the Night and The Long, Hot Summer. It's one of the steamiest films made in the 1960s, and it sheds light on a number of important issues. Director Otto Preminger, king of films that push the envelope, creates another masterpiece that makes you feel like you need a good scrubbing after watching it.

Kiddy Warning: Obviously, you have control over your own children. However, due to racial language, sexual situations, and violence involving children, I wouldn't let my kids watch it.

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.

I won't argue with someone who says, "I hated this film". Clearly many people (including film critics) did. But, I disagree with those who say the acting performances were bad-----they were spot on. I disagree with those who say the "trashy" racist characters were over-the-top caricatures-----you haven't met some of my relatives. And, I disagree with those who say that real people never act like these characters do-----pick up a newspaper sometime, either 1950 or 2011. Yes, parts of the movie made me squirm and want to look away-----because the scenes were TOO real and heartbreaking. I, for one, do NOT want racism, past or present, swept under the rug. Show its ugliness. Make people squirm. Hollywood would never make "Hurry Sundown" today, because it is "politically incorrect". The film says our parents, children, neighbors, law enforcement officers, and politicians could be capable of violent racism. Really! No! Surely only in the movies!

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 ****