The Only Game in Town

How could anything directed by George Stevens, starring Elizabeth Taylor and Warren Beatty, with a score by Maurice Jarre, be such a bore? Taylor plays a Vegas singer who is just existing while she waits for her married lover to get a divorce. Beatty is a compulsive gambler who works as a piano player in a Vegas bar/restaurant. They stumble into an affair when Liz goes to get a pizza after work one night at the place were Beatty works.

Most of this film is just the two of them talking about how much they do not love the other. When the married lover shows up at Liz' apartment he treats her like a pet (Here, Liz!, Hurry Liz!, Good Liz!). There is no subtlety in his performance, but then he is not alone. You can see the little flashes of greatness in Beatty's acting, he just isn't given much to work with. I never understand what compels him to gamble and why he feels towards money and possessions as he does.

The only bit of fun is seeing if you can identify all of the classic films Liz Taylor is watching whenever she is sitting around in her apartment. And then there is the irony of Beatty playing a compulsive gambler in Vegas about twenty years before he plays the founder of modern Las Vegas, Bugsy Segal. Even for completists of the players involved, I'd say avoid this one.

So I finally have gotten to see this film again after 22 years. It is interesting in so many ways I don't know where to begin; First thing: It stars one of the most beautiful and sexiest woman ever on the big screen; no one less then la Taylor. But she has some serious problems with portraying the lead role of Fran Walker, she is very badly cast as a young, single, chorus girls, as so many of the previous commentators have mentioned. The audience at this period was used to see la Taylor plump and alcoholic, playing characters that were badly faded beauties in their late 40s or even 50s; Martha in Wolf and Sissy Goforth in Boom. Here, she is supposed to be not many years older than the young girl la Taylor portrayed in the late 1940s, contemporary to the "old" movies the character Fran Walker watches. This is indeed one of her last "babe"-parts in movies. And her male co-star, is played by a then an up- and coming actor who is five years younger, even more highlights the miscasting. With face covering hairdos, soft focus close-shots, and clever cinematography things get somewhat plausible and under control. She must have crash-diet, and stopped half-way, she has slender legs, but not a dancer's sturdy legs, moves youngish and feminine (she's eating her pizza like a shy princess), but she is still somewhat top-heavy and double-chinned, maybe because of the heavy medication she was on at the time, as described in Burton's memoirs. Or maybe because of the strange fluffy dresses she wears that make her body look like "an apple balanced atop of two toothpicks" to quote a contemporary reviewer. In some scenes though, especially when filmed from a distance, she does still manage to look petite and delicious. And even though it is absurd to think of Taylor as a struggling working-class girl who needs to count every dollar and dime to balance the payments, she really tries hard here to convince us, and sometimes she actually succeeds. Or is it that the film is cleverly cut? We never really know, since Taylor's larger-than-life image interferes and blurs our judgment on her true talent as an actress. Still, she surprises by transcending a low-key and insecure appearance, which I guess was the intention of the original play writer Gilroy.

Second thing: Her co-star is the charming Warren Beatty, who here has some very effective scenes in which he makes his character Joe Grady very much authentic and believable. He resembles a combination of both (as one commentator pointed out before) Frank Sinatra's wit and style and Brad Pitt's Irish charming bad-boyishness. In contrast to Taylor, he is in my opinion very well cast. I sometimes wonder what it would be like, to be Warren Beatty, in Paris in autumn 1968, fresh from the huge success of "Bonnie and Clyde". According to the gossip that Taylor picked up, and reached the ears and notes of Burton, Warren was courted by so many beautiful Parisian women that Taylor hardly got a look of him off the set. Still some years to go before being "outed" by Carly Simon as being "So Vain", here in Paris he was evidently everybody's darling.

Third interesting point: The last star needed the presence of her beloved husband (and unfortunately heavy boozing partner) in order to be able to cope with this film, or anything else for that matter. Mr Burton was at this time busy shooting a farce with Rex Harrison, "Staircase", in Paris, which by the way was set in a grayish London. Maybe the married celebrity couple both needed the Parisian location to evade the US/UK taxes? Hence, a movie whose main plot is nothing less than one of the most American themes one can think of (quest for the big break), had to be shot in…Paris! Nowadays the stars of Hollywood earn enormous amount of money, but they can hardly make any demands such as those of la Taylor, and get through with it. It is therefore a pure pleasure to watch the streets and buildings, knowing at least some of them, are entirely build for la Taylor in Paris (if we don't count some scenes that had to be made in Las Vegas very quickly in early Spring of 1969).

Four: The score of Maurice Jarre. Great late 1960s early 1970s feel to it, jazzy and bluesy, in a stylish blend, the very definition of Easy listening.

Fifth: A lushly filmed Hollywood picture like this needs elements that make it "touch the ground". We, as an audience, must still be led to believe that the story enfolded before us could be real. Bathroom and bedroom scenes that are not obviously over-sty. Warren's character IS supposed to be a fly-guy dreamer, who painfully lands in reality after excesses at the casinos. The fairytale needs to touch the audience in-between all its awe and amaze, and technically Stevens and the editor have managed the task.

Sixth and last point I come to think of: In spite of this extravaganza, which is not apparent on the screen if one is not aware of that we are looking at a mini-Vegas built in Paris, this movie apparently flopped painfully when it premiered in 1970. It is since forgotten, overlooked, and its print doomed to deteriorate slowly somewhere in the 20th century Fox archives (in Burbank?). But is the plot of the film dated? I think not. Today, whenever the X-and Y-generation have problems of sorts to deal with, like for instance gambling, we are inclined to make it a pathology that must be treated with therapies and counseling. Couldn't this film be re-dusted as a lecture in how painful and destructive addictions to gambling really is? It deserves it. In spite of all the "half-ways" of this film it is cute and sympathetic lesson in love.

...can now be held for the latter part of Elizabeth Taylors career. After The Taming of the Shrew(1967) it all seemed to go down hill. Check out any post Shrew movies and you will see what I mean. Here, in The Only Game, in Town Beatty and Taylor are jaded and cynical workers and lovers trying to escape Vegas, but both have their problems. Beatty is a compulsive gambler and Taylor is a cold fish unable to communicate love for fear of abandonment. It's a subtle love story and comedy that has some pretty good moments even though it runs a little slow. Don't expect anything amazing but its worth a look.

So full of holes in plot and characterization that you must wonder how this was considered a finished product - for stage or screen.

Taylor, who is neither built like a chorine nor moves like one, becomes involved with a boyish Beatty, who, according to the story, is two years older than she. (Even the makeup department had their problems with this one.) Afraid to commit herself emotionally because she's seen too much of the sordid sides of life and love, she nevertheless ends up committing herself totally to a compulsive gambler. That he has undergone some type of catharsis and will gamble no more is something she is ready to believe, but, I fear, the audience is not - especially since he has just gambled away his long-sought ticket out of Las Vegas. What she has to offer him (or any man) in the way of understanding, companionship, support and stability is very much open to question. Her own ticket out of Las Vegas, in the person of a married boyfriend who has-against all expectations-divorced his wife in order to marry her, is rejected for an uncertain future as a compulsive gambler's woman. Why? Unless you are prepared to blindly accept the catch-all "because she loves him," you won't find the answer in this picture. Speaking of fantasy, although she proudly insists that she has never taken money from any man, she lives in a beautifully-furnished apartment and has an extensive, very stylish wardrobe - notwithstanding her pointing out (for our benefit, I suppose) that her jewelry is not costly and her furs are not real. Is she lying about her source of income? If so, it is inconsistent with a character who is presented as being emotionally honest, however confused she might be. If her claim is to be taken literally, how can she manage such a lifestyle on a chorus girl's salary?

There is lots more that doesn't ring true in a picture that fails to build, fails to involve the viewer, and ultimately falls flat.

Seeing "The Only Game In Town" for the first time forty odd years after it was made is a very special treat for anyone who loves film and film history. This was going to be George Steven's last film. A great director, a pioneer. Here he's directing Elizabeth Taylor for the third time, after "A Place In The Sun" and "Giant". That alone makes "The Only Game In Town" a collector's piece. Elizabeth Taylor clearly trusted George Stevens completely and for good reason. She is spectacular. Every close up is like a personal, private experience. Warren Beatty is perfect here and he turned down "Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid" to work with George Stevens. Good for him. A delicious treat.