Charismatic Steve McQueen is ‘The Cincinnati Kid’ 1965

Steve McQueen tries to keep his cool as "The Cincinnati Kid."

There were many talented hands involved with the poker playing epic, 1965’s The Cincinnati Kid. However, Steve McQueen is the winner, in the title role. McQueen isn’t just cool, but also effortlessly natural and emotionally understated as the man who has something to prove.

Like Paul Newman, Steve McQueen knew the power of his piercing blue eyes.

A common criticism of The Cincinnati Kid is that Paul Newman’s The Hustler from 1961 is a much more powerful story. That should go without saying. To me, the similarities between the two films are superficial:  both title characters struggle to make a name in their game; both are going up against a veteran champ in their respective sport. Otherwise, the movies are apples and oranges: Newman’s film is a stark, realistic black and white drama; McQueen’s movie is a stylish, colorful crowd-pleaser. The Hustler is a classic; The Cincinnati Kid is great entertainment and holds up well 50 years later.

A smile from the usually laconic Steve McQueen, as "The Cincinnati Kid."

I’ve only seen a few of Steve McQueen’s films because many of them are genre flicks. However, from what I’ve seen, I’m always knocked out by McQueen’s naturalistic performances. As The Cincinnati Kid, Steve’s card player is tough, but only when he has to be. Though he has ethereal Tuesday Weld and erotic Ann-Margret in his thrall, McQueen’s bad boy truly only wants Weld. When he strays once with A-M, he sees that it’s a mistake. In the typical male star vehicle, it’s a given that the hero can beat up any man and bed every female in sight. Steve McQueen differed from his greatest competitor, Paul Newman. Growing up, I always thought of them as the same type. While McQueen’s beat-up good looks and blue eyes are irresistible, Steve was no male beauty like Paul. I like Steve’s style during the ‘60s, much more than Newman’s cocky anti-hero. McQueen reminds me of an updated version of Bogart and Garfield. The final scene where the Kid admits that he’s done, tonelessly matter of fact, is just one of many understated moments by Steve McQueen in The Cincinnati Kid.

The scene when Steve McQueen's "Cincinnati Kid" quietly admits defeat is powerful.

Edward G. Robinson’s performance as veteran gambler Lancey Howard is one of his best—and one of Eddie’s most restrained. Nicknamed “The Man,” Howard knows that “The Kid” is coming down the pike. When Howard rolls into New Orleans, he’s like visiting royalty. I love watching Robinson as Lancey, like a Cheshire cat, taking everything in with great stillness. His poker face is quite entertaining, contrasted with those half-asleep eyes that miss nothing. After a game with a sore loser of a rich man, a game is set up that includes The Man and The Kid. During that third act poker game, Robinson gets to genially spar with former WB co-star Joan Blondell, and his interaction with younger star McQueen is understated and riveting. Eddie was quoted that he admired McQueen, that he was a throwback to the WB stars like himself, Bogie, Cagney, and Garfield. Robinson was totally right.

"I'm still the top stud poker player, see?" Edward G. Robinson as Lancey Howard
aka The Man in 1965's "The Cincinnati Kid."

What a shame that Edward G. Robinson didn't get an Oscar nod for his subtle, dryly humorous performance. This and his final turn as Sol in 1973’s Soylent Green were most worthy for Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination consideration. The fact that Eddie got zero Oscar nominations in his film career is one of the Academy’s blindest blunders.

One-time WB stars Edward G. Robinson & Joan Blondell reunited as a card shark
& card dealer in 1965's "The Cincinnati Kid."

Aside from Steve McQueen, Ann-Margret, and Tuesday Weld, with their modern style, there's a lot of period detail for a ‘60s movie that wasn't a costume picture. McQueen has his designer hair cut, but his clothes are timeless, except for that cool rain jacket in the opening scenes. And Weld’s hair is very ‘60s hippie chick, but she’s otherwise in character. Then there’s Ann-Margret as Shooter’s young wife, Melba. I like A-M overall as an actress and she seems like a class act as a person. But her shallow kitten with a whip gets old really fast. Compared to the natural performances and physical appearance of the rest of the cast, Annie’s tidal wave of dyed red hair, awning-sized false lashes, and her purring/hissing cat in heat act stands out in the wrong way. Totally ‘60s in a ‘30s set movie, Ann-Margret’s performance is ironically the one thing that is dated in an otherwise authentically atmospheric film.

Ann-Margret as Melba the Cat? As Karl Malden's faithless wife, Melba even cheats
at jigsaw puzzles! From 1965's "The Cincinnati Kid."

Tuesday Weld’s Christian, a country girl in New Orleans, is her quirky, child-like self. But as the good girl to Ann-Margret’s vamp, Weld has a more genuine rapport with McQueen’s character. The Kid’s bathtub scene, when Christian explains a foreign movie that she’s just seen is one example of their charming interplay.

Tuesday Weld & Steve McQueen have a sweet rapport in 1965's "The Cincinnati Kid."

The cast of The Cincinnati Kid is simply incredible. Karl Malden is a flawed good guy, Shooter, coerced into cutting the cards in the Kid’s favor, because of debts incurred by his trampy wife, Melba. Malden’s empathetic, as always. Rip Torn, of the John Cassavetes/Ben Gazzara department of creeps, is the poor sport money man who wants the Kid to take down reigning ancey. Joan Blondell has her likeable broad routine down pat by now as card dealer Lady Fingers. All the actors get their moment to shine: Jack Weston as grouchy Pig; plus Jeff Corey, Dub Taylor, Cab Calloway, Karl Swenson, Milton Selzer, and Burt Mustin. Uncredited but remarkable is Ken Grant as the little shoeshine boy who always wants to challenge the Cincinnati Kid in a penny pitch.

Ken Grant is winning as the shoe shine boy who dogs "The Cincinnati Kid."

The shoe shine boy who idolizes and challenges "The Cincinnati Kid," 1965.

The movie’s tight yet intriguing visual style is courtesy of director Norman Jewison, editor (future director) Hal Ashby, and versatile cinematographer Philip H. Lathrop (Touch of Evil and Point Blank). Jewison was an actor’s director who was also a great storyteller and it shows here. The story, though it revolves around cards, is really about what the stakes are for these characters in the game. You notice every character, even if they are only reacting to the major players, a hallmark of a Jewison movie.

Director Norman Jewison at right, listening to his star, Steve McQueen, on the set of
 "The Cincinnati Kid." Tuesday Weld is in the middle of the talk.

The Cincinnati Kid was from a novel by Richard Jessup, a writer with a tough upbringing, similar to star Steve McQueen. Sadly, both men died young, two years apart, from cancer. The crisp and humorous script is by old pro Ring Lardner, Jr., first time off the black list, and newcomer Terry Southern, who came into his own in the ‘60s. Lalo Schifrin provides the score, with Ray Charles singing the theme song.

An amused beef from me: Why didn't Jewison reshoot the scene where McQueen throws Malden up against the door, after the Kid finds out Shooter is favoring him with the cards? When Steve slams Karl, the entire wall wobbles!

Rip Torn, so good at playing villains, is rich SOB Slade in "The Cincinnati Kid."

Some movie critics and film fans have complained about card games as a subject matter and the impossible odds of The Kid and The Man’s last hands. Personally, I find card games incredibly boring. The game scenes here were filmed with great skill and I was much more interested in the players’ motivations than their card hands.

The Cincinnati Kid is a crowd-pleaser, you’re either all in, or you’re out.

Here’s my look at director Norman Jewison’s 1967 ensemble masterpiece, In the Heat of the Night: 

http://https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2020/06/in-heat-of-night-1967.html

 

"The Cincinnati Kid" is on its game as great entertainment.

Elvis & Ann-Margret Rock ‘Viva Las Vegas’ 1964

Ann-Margret & Elvis Presley are a dynamic duo in 1964's "Viva Las Vegas."

 

Viva Las Vegas is a fun bit of fluff, and all the credit goes to its well-paired stars, Elvis Presley and Ann-Margret. There's virtually no plot, even for an Elvis movie. Yet, when the two stars banter and bicker, or sing and dance, you marvel at their youthful beauty, sex appeal and energy, and charismatic talent. They're a high-voltage wow together. 

Elvis Presley& Ann-Margret's chemistry was red hot in 1964's "Viva Las Vegas."

Elvis Presley's character Lucky Jackson is so multi-talented. He's a race car driver who also sings and plays guitar. He can fly a helicopter and he's also a waiter on the side. Side hustles, as the kids say today. Ann-Margret is Rusty Martin, a children's swimming instructor who just happens to sing and dance as well. A “lucky” coincidence!  A-M’s dancing is so energetic that audiences can burn calories by just watching her. Her singing, however, is a matter of taste. I am just not a fan of A-M’s babykins voice with that exaggerated vibrato.

Elvis' Lucky knows his way around a chopper as well as race car in "Viva Las Vegas."

Elvis is a most dapper dresser and dons some unusual suits and mod boots. Ann-Margret is utterly adorable as the kitten with the whiplash hair! And for most of the movie, A-M is at her ‘60s slinkiest, with sleek outfits that show off her figure and a simple, long wave of hair. It’s only in later scenes that she is teased, lacquered, or bewigged, and then the artificial ‘60s Ann-Margret intrudes. It's great fun to watch the stars rock the 1964 fashions in their glorious youth. There’s great humor and chemistry between Elvis and A-M, which was much noted at the time.

Ann-Margret looks simply lovely here as Rusty Martin in "Viva Las Vegas."

...in scenes like this, Ann-Margret looks like Jiffy-Pop! 

The padding is mostly tolerable, but the merry chase through casino showrooms looking for Rusty is a total time waster. Lucky and Rusty’s date day is just watching the stars clowning, but they make it fun. That Elvis sings "Viva Las Vegas" three times in an 85-minute movie speaks volumes to the filler in this slight feature film.

The title tune "Viva Las Vegas" is performed three times in less than 90 minutes!

Presley and A-M’s numbers together are great fun and the highlight of the Viva Las Vegas. The midsection has the best of them, where Elvis sings and gyrates, as Ann-Margret whips herself into a sexy frenzy. In the background is Teri Garr in a black and white dress for “That's What I Say.” And the girl “with the red dress on” is Toni Basil. The three song medley is a mashup of high energy fun.

That's Teri Garr in B&W on the left, looking rather glum throughout this number!

After that, it's a lot of slapstick, and A-M going from her most appealing to comically caterwauling through a couple of numbers. Ann-Margret was one of many female stars promoted as the next Marilyn, after Monroe's recent death. Her "Appreciation" number is a weak take off on some previous MM numbers, particularly of a bad MM number, "Specialization" from Let's Make Love. The shellacked, artificial A-M in these scenes was considered sophisticated. Most likely this came from director George Sidney, who was enamored/obsessed with A-M, when they made three films together. It was said that Colonel Tom Parker had to remind Sidney that this was an Elvis movie. Note the finale, where Elvis and A-M share a split screen together to sing the title tune, and one wonders if even Presley was tired of vying for the screen with A-M.

Ann-Margret in ruffles and a fall; Cesare Danova, sporting Tony Polar's
"Valley of the Dolls" nightclub act suit?

Elvis Presley is at his mid-movie career best: he sings and looks great, plus his natural self-deprecating humor is put to good use in the boy-meets-girl scenario. This may have been Presley’s introduction to Las Vegas, where Elvis would be a top attraction in the next decade, as would Ann-Margret.

Elvis Presley's Lucky is gambling on love in 1964's "Viva Las Vegas."

Craggy William Demarest (My Three Sons) plays A-M’s father, amusing, since he was 72 at the time to her fresh-faced 23—hey, that’s show biz! Cesare Danova is Elvis’ rival on the race track and for Ann-Margret’s Rusty. Since A-M’s hard to get attitude toward Presley’s Lucky is practically non-existent, Danova’s not much of a threat.

Director George Sidney displays all of Ann-Margret's charms in "Viva Las Vegas."

Viva Las Vegas is no musical classic, but is a tasty trifle. Just enjoy these great stars in their prime, some fun song and dances, and nostalgic Las Vegas scenery—forget the rest!

Here’s my look at one of Elvis Presley’s best, Loving You: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2019/08/elvis-presley-fans-still-loving-you-1957.html 

Love this candid shot of Ann-Margret & Elvis Presley on set of "Viva Las Vegas."

Ann-Margret's Anatomy VS 'Bus Riley's Back in Town' 1965

A-M's kitten with a whip routine wreaks havoc with William Inge's kitchen sink drama, 'Bus Riley's Back in Town.'

Bus Riley’s Back in Town is one of those flicks that’s fondly remembered by some film fans but mostly forgotten by mainstream movie audiences. The 1965 slice of life drama had a troubled production, was not a critical or commercial success, isn’t often shown on television, or readily available on DVD. I was thrilled when I finally found a good version of Bus Riley on line, and the link is at the end of this essay.

Michael Parks had to live down "the next James Dean" label, in an era that was not looking for '50s rebels.

I am a movie buff with nostalgic memories of Bus Riley’s Back in Town. The story of a sailor who comes back to his home town, only to find out things have changed, and ultimately figures out he needs to change, as well, was a TV staple in the ‘70s. Watching movies like Bus Riley, Valley of the Dolls, and Peyton Place made me feel very grown up, especially if I was watching with my Mom. She was a fan of Bus Riley’s Michael Parks, who had made a TV comeback with Then Came Bronson, the hippie biker with the catch phrase, “Hang in there.”

Playwright William Inge was to the Midwest what Tennessee Williams was to the South, depicting lives of not-so-quiet desperation. Inge recycled some archetypes from his most famous work, Picnic, to portray small town life in Bus Riley’s Back in Town: the sensible widow who takes in boarders; the insecure "pretty" older and “sensitive” kid sisters; the neurotic old maid school teacher; and the ne’er-do-well charmer who comes home and shakes things up.

Ann-Margret is just a small town country club wife in 'Bus Riley's Back in Town!'

There are basically two movies going on in Bus. One is a domestic comedy-drama, told realistically for the time, with a cast of fine character actors who look and act like real people. Then there’s an Ann-Margret melodrama, still in Kitten with a Whip mode. After the opening scenes of the working class Riley family reunion with returning sailor Bus, the film cuts to A-M’s Laurel, his sexy ex. She plays possum on her pillow, when her rich older husband comes to her bed to say goodbye, before he leaves on business. The film then turns into a Ross Hunter version of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof: A-M sulking in bed, with a tidal wave of hair and ton of makeup, shot in gauzy cinematography by Hunter's fave lensman, Russell Metty, all accompanied with swelling piano music. And once Bus hits town, Ann-Margret’s local vixen turns into a crazy town Maggie the Cat!

Ann-Margret is basically Maggie the Crazy Cat to Michael Parks' ambivalent Bus Riley.

Most of the film follows the small town dreams and disappointments of Bus Riley's family and friends, which are often quite affecting. Then along comes A-M's Laurel, who can't seem to decide whether she loves or hates Bus. Either way, A-M is full-on Ann-Margrock, complete with babykins voice, sultry gazes through her peek-a-boo hairdo, as she swans about in Jean Louis outfits. A-M’s character also seems slightly insane, as she deliberately runs into Bus’ car as an excuse to talk, stalks, bites, and even jumps into her pool fully dressed, all to seduce him.

Most absurd is when Laurel enlists her much older BFF "Benii" as her “date,” in order to run into Bus at a local hot spot. A-M selects a slow sexy number on the jukebox that sends her into a slithery, come hither routine, with her aging pal dancing by himself, until she slinks her way back. Suddenly, it feels like we’re in Twin Peaks! Lots of A-M self-touching, with half-closed eyes, and full-hair tossing, that is totally self-parody. This was one of several early Ann-Margret movies where her sex symbol image was boosted at the expense of the film’s finished product. A-M was also one of a number of starlets touted to be the next Marilyn Monroe, after MM’s untimely demise.

Ann-Margaret's Laurel gets down with BFF "Benii" to vamp Bus. With color-coordinated their dancing shoes!

Unfortunately, the sex kitten with claws image was one that she had to live down. Finally, in 1970, directing great Mike Nichols did for A-M in Carnal Knowledge what he did for Elizabeth Taylor in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and later, Cher, in Silkwood: shine a light on the talent of a star with an over-exposed image. Ann-Margret went on to become a terrific actress, especially in her later TV work.

The break up between Laurel and Bus is Ann-Margret and Michael Parks’ best scene together. A-M is at Laurel’s makeup table, perpetually putting on lipstick, while Parks’ Bus is trying to have a serious talk with her. Bus takes the lipstick and Laurel snatches it right back. When Parks slaps it out of her hand, A-M snarls, “What?!!” Parks is most effective, soft-spoken as he explains why he can’t be with her anymore, and Ann-Margaret shows a glimpse of her future emotionalism as an actress, when Laurel realizes she’s really lost Bus this time. It’s a startling scene.

Bus Riley and Laurel are about to break up again for good, in this intense scene that involves a flying lipstick!

Prolific television director Harvey Hart is quite capable with the cast, save Ann-Margret. Michael Parks got a bad rap as a James Dean wannabe. While he did look like a more conventionally good-looking version of Jimmy and occasionally affected the same method acting style as Dean, he also has some Brando-esque moments as Bus Riley. In the film's opening, he is awoken repeatedly, finally by his sister's noisy boyfriend, making a racket in his car. His "Hey, Paula!" rant is a good-natured homage to Marlon's famed "Hey, Stella!" There are other moments when Parks gets to show his flair for dry humor. Yet, he also has a number of subtle dramatic scenes, especially with Jocelyn Brando as his mother and Janet Margolin, as a family friend he gradually realizes is a kindred spirit. All in all, Michael Parks makes a good impression as Bus Riley, and it should have led to better roles. I wonder if Michael Parks didn’t take off as a movie star because, like Ann-Margret, getting groomed respectively as the next James Dean or Marilyn Monroe by the mid-60s was passé.

The Riley family at breakfast, from left: Mimsy Farmer, Jocelyn Brando, and Kim Darby. And that's the back of Brett Somers' head, who plays their uptight boarder.

Kim Darby was quirky even as a teen and an acquired taste as a performer. Most famous for True Grit, these qualities suit her role as the offbeat kid sister, Gussie. The kid sis idolizes Bus, and she and Parks have a sweet rapport. As her best friend Judy, Janet Margolin, of the art house classic, David and Lisa, is most appealing. As the girl stuck in the role of adult to her divorced, depressed, and drinking mother, Margolin's doe-eyed looks and aching vulnerability are a striking contrast to Ann-Margaret's tawdry antics. 

Janet Margolin shines as Judy, the one who may be just the right girl for Bus Riley.

Most amusing is Brett Somers as the uptight boarder, Carlotta. Anybody who grew up in the '70s remembers Brett as the game show version of Elaine Stritch on Match Game, sharing whiskey-voiced, bawdy quips, and vying with Charles Nelson Reilly to see who could be more outrageous. To see Somers clutching her pearls as Parks' Bus bumbles around in his boxers or catches her on the can is especially hilarious.

Jocelyn Brando plays the warm but pragmatic Mrs. Riley, and the scenes with her children ring true. She brings a realistic mix of offering level-headed advice for happiness in small town life, with a touch of resignation. Still, Brando, who was Marlon's older sister, will always be Mommie Dearest's favorite reporter, Barbara Bennett from Redbook, to me!

Jocelyn Brando is great as always as Mrs. Riley, trying to keep wayward son Bus on the right track.

Brad Dexter, who seems to have been in every '60s movie, plays the Atomic vacuum salesman who gives Bus a career break. Their scene with housewife Alice Pearce (Bewitched's Gladys Kravitz #1) gives the movie some intentional levity. Another actress who has just one, but memorable scene, is Lisabeth Hush as Joy, the Mrs. Robinson of Bus' little berg. She’s funny and sexy in her golden lounging get-up, riffing and flirting on astrology and ESP, and offers this classic come-on to salesman Bus: "Why be a square when the world is round?" 

Lisabeth Hush is a sly hoot as sexy housewife Joy, one of Bus' 'customers.'

Ethel Griffies, the ornithologist who offered dire warnings of The Birds, is a tough old bird of a matriarch from the local funeral home here. Most striking is Crahan Denton as her closeted alcoholic mortician son who offers Bus a job—with extra duties. With a hand on Bus' knee, there's a striking close-up as he says, "I'm a lonely man, Bus." What's forward thinking is at a funeral later, Bus holds no grudges and goes over to greet him. In a similar vein, when Judy's alcoholic Mom dies in a fire caused by her burning cigarette, there's a humane assessment of her disease, not demonization. Even when Bus finally breaks up with Laurel, and she snaps that she hates him, he just replies softly, "And I feel sorry for you." Considering the hell she's put him through, I thought that was a most charitable answer.

Aside from the Dean comparisons, Michael Parks is sensitive, funny, and sexy as Bus Riley.

Mimsy Farmer—love that name!—as the older, pretty sister Paula, is alternately snarky and sweet; Larry Storch is the likeable barkeep pal; Nan Martin’s a believable mess as Judy's mother; and David Carradine, creepy even then, is Bus' buddy Stretch. Star Trek’s Scotty himself, James Doohan, rounds out the stellar cast. 

David Carradine makes an early film appearance as an old high school pal of Parks' Bus Riley.

Much was made when William Inge requested that his name be removed from Bus Riley’s Back in Town credits, due to changes made by the film’s producer, Elliot Kastner, to "glorify Ann-Margret." The screenplay was credited to "Walter Gage" in the finished film. A decade later, Ann-Margret told her side, saying the changes were made to soften her character, and that she wasn’t happy about it, either.

Could those cut scenes be restored and the re-shoots removed? Hard to say, but my guess is highly unlikely. At least it would make great fodder for a Bus Riley DVD. Meanwhile, you can either savor the small town fare of Bus Riley or chuckle at the deep dish camp of Ann-Margret purring and sneering her way through this bi-polar bonanza.

Watch Bus Riley’s Back in Town here: https://rarefilmm.com/2018/07/bus-rileys-back-in-town-1965/

Ann-Margret plays with her... oh, never mind!