Kim & Kirk Team For Suburban Soap ‘Strangers When We Meet’ 1960

Kim Novak is Maggie the bored housewife & Kirk Douglas is Larry the restless architect...

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Despite the star power of Kim Novak and Kirk Douglas as illicit lovers, Strangers When We Meet was only a moderate moneymaker in 1960. Critics didn’t heap praise on the slick screen soap, either. Strangers When We Meet was simply not an affair to remember.

Well, that slogan about sums it up for 'Strangers When We Meet!' 

Still, there are aspects that make Strangers, if not memorable, a noteworthy post-war take on adultery. While the stars are sympathetic—i.e. sanitized from Evan Hunter’s novel—they don’t get off scot free. And yet, they aren’t “punished” for their sins, either, like Elizabeth Taylor in BUtterfield 8, from the same year that Strangers was released. Nor is there a leering quality so common in “sensational” soap operas or sex comedies from that era. The cuckolded mates, while imperfect, are not caricatures, to rationalize the cheating spouses’ ways. For a mid-century cinema soap, there’s much gray area in this beautifully shot Cinemascope romance.

Sin in the suburb on aisle 5! Kim Novak accidentally makes off with Kirk Douglas' shopping cart
and the rest is adulterous angst in 1960's 'Strangers When We Meet.

This was an atypical drama for Columbia’s resident comic director, Richard Quine. And he offers a surprisingly adult look at marriage and infidelity. Author Evan Hunter—The Blackboard Jungle, Last Summer, screenwriter for The Birds, and aka Ed McBain—never shied away from difficult topics.

Note how more blunt the promo was for the original Evan Hunter novel.

Strangers When We Meet plays like a low-key version of a Douglas Sirk melodrama, but without all his flourishes. Though some reviews and movie viewers have cited Strangers as dull, those who don’t enjoy Sirk’s stylized soap tropes may find Strangers When We Meet more satisfying to watch.

A visually interesting pic with Novak's Maggie sick in bed, hair down. Kim looks a bit like '50s Vera Miles here, whom she took over the starring role in 'Vertigo,' when Vera became pregnant.

One of those post-war looks at suburban angst, Kirk plays architect Larry Coe, who works at home, has lovely Barbara Rush as his wife, with cute kids, and lives in a fab modern house… but he’s not happy.

I’d say Kim Novak’s character, Maggie, has more to beef about. Her housewife leads an empty life, with a husband who barely seems to notice her and a child who’s hardly on screen. Maggie does have a mother, who she despises for having an affair herself. Novak does have a secret admirer/stalker that won’t stop calling her, yet pays the most attention to her. Between Kim’s trying to shut down the stalker while trying to hook up with Kirk’s architect, Novak spends half her scenes on the phone!

Kim Novak has almost as many scenes on the phone as she does with Kirk Douglas in 'Strangers When We Meet!'

As Maggie, Kim Novak gets a role in Strangers that plays to her strengths as an actress: she’s vulnerable, insecure, and enigmatic. There’s little studio-trained posturing here, Kim just is. Novak was given the big buildup by Columbia’s Harry Cohn to replace Rita Hayworth as the studio’s next film goddess. Kim was given the star treatment, but I always felt their glamour makeover was a bit heavy-handed, particularly in Bell, Book, and Candle. Here, Novak’s housewife is toned down, yet Kim rarely looked lovelier on-screen. Kim Novak comes across like a human being, instead of a movie star mannequin. Novak has a particularly good scene when she attempts to talk to and/or seduce her husband, who seems profoundly disinterested in her. Even though she’s only partially dressed in a black bra and slip, he’s ‘tired.’ Some viewers wondered if he was secretly gay, but in the novel, the character had it drummed into his head by his mother that sex was bad. Some critics commented on her hesitant, hushed line readings—I occasionally found Kim’s gulping words and near inaudible delivery distracting, too. Was it Novak’s fabled nervousness or part of her characterization? Like her performance in Vertigo, the actress and the character were perfectly aligned.

Kim's best scene as Maggie comes when she tries to find out why her screen husband does not desire her.

Some of Strangers’ critics felt that Kirk Douglas was miscast as the earnest architect, but I thought it was nice to see Kirk playing a normal guy for a change, instead of his usual hyperventilating hamminess. Douglas’ still a strong presence and makes his character sympathetic, even when he is not behaving that way. That’s a real trick for an actor, and the mark of a great star who can keep the audience from feeling alienated.

Kirk Douglas in one of his few low-key roles as Larry Coe, the dissatisfied family man.

Barbara Rush plays the thankless role of the “good wife,” Eve Coe, quite well. At first, she comes on like the pushy, upwardly mobile wife, but as the movie goes on, you start to see her side of things. As she feels shut out of her husband’s decision making, her character becomes more empathetic. And she holds her own in the intense, attempted rape scene with Matthau.

Lovely Barbara Rush does a fine job as Douglas' wife, Eve Coe, about to get pounced on by Walter Matthau!

Ernie Kovacs, the groundbreaking comedian, is surprisingly good as the neurotic author who hires Douglas to build his dream house. Even when given some pretty plumy lines, Ernie is natural and warm as the validation-seeking writer, whether it’s from critical raves or a house that reflects his success. Sadly, Kovacs died in his famous car accident two years later.

Comedic genius Ernie Kovacs is quite good as the insecure author who wants Douglas to design his dream home.

Irascible Walter Matthau often played villains early in his career. While Walter was physically unconvincing as the bad guy (ever see him bullwhip Burt Lancaster in The Kentuckian or chase Elvis with a gun in Kid Creole?), Matthau played a great sleaze, like here as Felix, the philandering neighbor. While practically taking notes on what his fellow suburbanites are up to, Felix feigns indignation at a neighbor for telling dirty jokes at a party. Matthau’s quite the scene stealer, sparring with Douglas, and his scene where he puts some unwanted moves on Rush’s Eve, is creepily chilling.

Walter Matthau is Felix, the nosy hound dog neighbor of Kirk's adulterous architect. 

Nancy Kovack made her film debut with Strangers. Kovack was a fixture on TV in the ‘60s and ‘70s, and the statuesque starlet was always frosted blonde, with lipstick and eye shadow to match. So to see Nancy as Marcia, one of Ernie Kovac’s many girlfriends, all dolled up as deep brunette with arched eyebrows, was a surprise. In 1960, if a startlet wasn’t made over to look like Marilyn, they done up like Liz! Kovack looks like a sexier Paula Prentiss here. Nancy has only has one scene as the good-natured broad who likes to knock back a drink before noon, but she’s sexy, smart, and funny.

Nancy Kovack is almost unrecognizable in her 'BUtterfield 8' look! Kovack has one scene in her debut, but she's fun.

Strangers When We Meet shows off a great deal of location shooting, surprising for a movie that wasn’t a glorified travelogue, and this gives the movie some authenticity. Also noteworthy is that the house that is constructed for Kovacs’ character was real—movie legend has it that it was supposed to be a wedding gift for Kim and director Quine, who were engaged during filming, from Columbia. When Strangers wrapped, so did their romance!

A house is not a home: The house is real, but it never became a wedding home to Novak and director Richard Quine.

Much of Strangers was sanitized for the big screen: Maggie was no stranger to infidelity and Larry sought adultery tips from Felix in Hunter’s novel. But some of what’s onscreen is still eyebrow-raising: the scene after Kirk and Kim consummate their affair, they are dressing at a motel, afterward. She’s looking in the mirror, with the back of her dress unzipped to her waist and no bra. Kirk comes up behind and sweetly zips her up. Eve is shown nude from the back, waist up, as she puts on her robe to answer the door to hound dog Felix, emphasizing her sexual vulnerability. The movie is frank about sex as far as it could be in 1960, with even the Coe’s boy asking if sex was like Santa Claus!

This scene was a bit of an eye opener for 1960. Remember when Janet Leigh in a bra was a big deal
that same year in 'Psycho?' Well, Kim one-ups (or is that two-ups?) the censors by wearing NO bra!

Like The Sandpiper later, Strangers When We Meet finds the adulterous screen couple in a no-win situation. To have the romantic leads enjoy a happy ending would go against screen convention, yet to have the couple part in a way that satisfied audiences was tricky. I found Strangers’ finale melancholy and am sure that audiences weaned on happy endings found it even more so.

Kirk Douglas' architect spends the first part of this film always trying to pick up Kim Novak's housewife!

Despite the slickness of Strangers When We Meet, there’s a certain honesty that reflects the coming trend of realism in movies. And the stars’ polar opposite personas—Douglas’ overt intensity and Novak’s passive vulnerability—make a compelling counterpoint. If you check your expectations, you just might enjoy getting acquainted with Strangers When We Meet.
As of 2/9/19, there's a nice copy of Strangers When We Meet on YouTube: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCo4Y721IYg

Kirk Douglas was 43 when 'Strangers When We Meet' was filmed. Kirk lived to be 103!

When Sinatra Met Simon: 'Come Blow Your Horn' 1963

'Come Blow Your Horn' lets 1963-vintage Sinatra toot his own horn as a swinging bachelor!

 There’s something fascinating about '60s Sinatra, his legend already in place, as Frank’s film roles rapidly morphed into his off-screen persona. 

I'm of the school who thinks Frank Sinatra was a refreshingly natural actor, especially in an era when movie acting was still theatrical. Sinatra could be cynical yet romantic, wise-cracking, sincere, with a tough but tender approach that was most appealing—not unlike his idol, Humphrey Bogart. Though he possessed great eyes and smile, I never thought Frankie was that handsome and for most of his career, he was a runt of a guy. Yet, watching him in his heyday, I totally get why women were wild for Old Blue Eyes. My maternal grandmother was one of them!

Frank has all of "Horn's" horny ladies under his spell. Barbara Rush, left, is the good girl with footie jammies!

Once the Rat Pack era reigned, films like The Manchurian Candidate were fewer, and lazy genre movies that were self-referential were the name of the game. And like many post-war superstars who started resting on their laurels later, Sinatra’s movie star status dropped fast after mid-60s cinematic game changers like Blow Up and Bonnie and Clyde.

Sinatra on the set of  'Horn': Note the bike's signature. Nobody ever said Sinatra was PC!

Come Blow Your Horn was Neil Simon's first hit play, and the only one for which he didn't write the screenplay. Though commercially successful, Simon wasn't pleased with the way Horn was shoe-horned into fitting Frank's own living large bachelorhood. After this, Simon wrote a string of smashes, starting with Barefoot in the Park, and “Doc” was able to main control over subsequent screen adaptations of his plays.

Sinatra as the swinging bachelor, with Barbara Rush as the patient good girl friend.

Not that the role of freewheeling bachelor wasn’t suited to Frank. Sinatra seems to be having fun here, shows his flair for comedy, and is warm and sexy as hell. But the role of Alan Baker, a Jewish guy, as played by the world's most famous Sicilian, Francis Albert Sinatra?! The discrepancy is more obvious when Lee J. Cobb and Molly Picon excruciatingly play Sinatra’s cliché Jewish parents, who worry about their swinging older son, as he takes his “kid” brother under his wing. It’s strange enough that swinger Sinatra has a kid brother who's just turned 21 and he’s supposed to be in his late 30s. This is compounded by the fact that Frank was actually in his late 40s—and looking it. Any time callow Tony Bill shares a scene with Sinatra, one thinks of Frank Jr., with a little of junior playboy Warren Beatty thrown in!

Even artful lighting couldn't hide the fact that Sinatra wouldn't get away with playing "younger" much longer.

Even stranger still is Lee J. Cobb as the father, who was only four years older than Sinatra. And Jill St. John, as the bimbo bombshell, like Tony Bill, was a quarter of a century younger than Frank. With Sinatra the Superstar dropped into the middle of all this Simon sitcom silliness, it feels like a future SNL sketch.

No, this isn't Frank Sinatra starring in 'Fifty Shades of Orange!' It's just Old Blues favorite color.

Also, the Baker family business is plastic fruit sales, yet the family lives in a lavish '60s modern house, and Frank lives in a swanky pad worthy of Sinatra himself, right down to the Chairman of the Board's favorite shades of orange. 

All of this did not go unnoted at the time, especially by the New York Times’ resident grumpy critic, Bosley Crowther. However, a number of critics gave it a passing grade at the time—and a few even now!—but Come Blow Your Horn seems blaringly obvious, dated, and nonsensical today.

There's a lot of talent here: Norman Lear and Bud Yorkin at the helm; a great cast; William Daniels' cinematography and Edith Head costumes;  a lavish set design; some snappy lines; even Frank’s stopping the picture while singing the title tune. Still, it's all so over the top, that it smothers Simon's simple story.

Jill St. John sports this Edith Head get up as she phones in a Marilyn Monroe impersonation for 'Horn.'

The women are all Playboy-era stereotypes, wearing tons of hair and makeup: Jill St. John, doing a one-dimensional Marilyn Monroe impersonation (much better later as the wisecracking divorcee in Sinatra’s Tony Rome); Phyllis McGuire, looking and acting like a fierce drag queen, as the Texas store shopper; and lovely and intelligent Barbara Rush, as the simpering girlfriend, waiting for Frank propose. Rush is so goody-goody, she even sleeps in pajamas with footies! This was also one of the first films where EVERY woman who crosses Sinatra’s path is entranced by him.

The cast of  1963's 'Come Blow Your Horn.'

The sexual attitudes and social humor of Come Blow Your Horn are the last hurrah of a more “innocent” time, when this farce was released in the summer of ‘63. In fact, there's a party scene where a guest is hypnotized into seeking out John F. Kennedy. She approaches Sinatra as JFK, to berate him about some of his policies, with Frank replying in a clever Kennedy impersonation. This was the last gasp of the post-war ring-a-ding era—when good times meant drinking, smoking, living large, and chasing women. To me, Come Blow Your Horn is more of a perversely fascinating time capsule, than timeless entertainment.

'Come Blow Your Horn' is Frank's show all the way.