Gene Tierney Reunites with Otto Preminger: ‘Whirlpool’ 1950

 

Gene Tierney thinks she has troubles as a kleptomaniac in "Whirlpool."
Wait till she meets Jose Ferrer's hypnotist!

20th Century Fox upper middle class luxury meets lurid film noir via a charlatan hypnotist, in 1950’s Whirlpool. The con man (Jose Ferrer) takes advantage of a well-to-do housewife (Gene Tierney) who is a kleptomaniac. Once David Korvo has a hypnotic hold on Ann Sutton, he sets her up for murder.

Gene Tierney's Ann Sutton is under hypnotic suggestion to carry out crimes in
1950's "Whirlpool." The good news is she sleeps like a baby!

Fox studio head Darryl F. Zanuck was hoping for another Laura, as Whirlpool had the same director, female star, and composer. As the smooth-talking hypnotist, Zanuck wanted an elegant villain along the lines of Laura’s Clifton Webb. Filmed in mid-1949, I understand why Jose Ferrer was considered a casting coup at the time, as he was a huge Broadway hit as Cyrano de Bergerac.

Gene Tierney's troubled housewife falls under phony Jose Ferrer's spell in 1950's "Whirlpool,"from 20th Century Fox.

However, I think Fox should have stuck with one of their charming cads, Vincent Price or George Sanders. Ferrer is all sonorous voice but looks and acts like such a little weasel that it begs why someone like Gene Tierney would give him the time of day. At least with the two Fox stars, they had stature and good looks that allowed them the guise that hid the wiles. Or best of all, James Mason, who had a great face and voice, and was new to American movies.

Jose Ferrer's unctuous hypnotist is short on charm & long on creepy in "Whirlpool."

 Richard Conte seems somewhat miscast as Ann’s shrink hubby Bill, but Conte at least has conviction. I think that Conte is a handsome, solid, and intense actor. Conte would have thrived over at WB playing either cops or robbers; he has that kind of face. With those piercing eyes and jutted jaw, Conte always looks like he is gonna belt somebody!

Richard Conte is the psychiatrist husband of Gene Tierney's kleptomaniac in
1950's "Whirlpool."

Charles Bickford is always instantly believable, here as no-nonsense Lt. Colton, who finds the whole story beyond belief—and he's right! The police detective is also mourning the recent loss of his wife, which gives him some depth.

Charles Bickford is the no-nonsense police detective solving a nonsensical crime in
1950's "Whirlpool."

Barbara O’Neil, beloved by film fans as Scarlett O’Hara’s mother and   memorable as the deranged wife in All This, And Heaven Too, plays one of Korvo’s victims. To distinguish O’Neil as the older woman, she is given a skunk-like white streak in her dark hair! Her performance is much more subtle.

Barbara O'Neil's older socialite tries to give Gene Tierney's matron some friendly
 advice in 1950's "Whirlpool."

As for Gene Tierney, I've always admired her great beauty, class, and intelligence. Tierney always seemed to do best in roles where she seemed other-worldly. Here is no exception, given that Ann Sutton's under hypnosis half the time. There's a certain amount of psychology here, with a wife who seemingly has everything, but resorts to shoplifting for some kind of release. Tierney's performing is not electric, like Bette Davis, or deeply empathetic like Ingrid Bergman, but she performs well within the studio era’s stylized acting. 

Hey, when hypnosis doesn't work, drastic measures are required! Jose Ferrer and
 Gene Tierney in 1950's "Whirlpool."

Even for a studio era film noir, the plotting in Whirlpool is preposterous. The movie opens with moneyed suburban matron Tierney getting busted for shoplifting in a swanky LA store. When Ann Sutton is escorted to the manager’s office by security, onlooker David Korvo follows, and imposes his opinion about the awkward situation. In reality, the security would have escorted him out before he could finish his first sentence! Nor would anybody in their right mind meet with this obviously smarmy character in public, despite red flags galore. I won’t give away the finale, but it goes beyond the pale of believability.

One of the most unbelievable scenes, Jose Ferrer in 1950's "Whirlpool."

At the time, Whirlpool was considered an “A” picture, though it feels a bit minor by today’s standards. Zanuck had a personal hand in this film, the book was considered a hot property, Ben Hecht was the screenwriter, etc. And yet, all the ingredients didn’t create a memorable melodrama.

Part of the problem was the miscast leading men, plus neither were particularly box office magnets. Which meant the burden of carrying the picture fell on Gene Tierney’s slim shoulders. Even in her greatest vehicle, Leave Her to Heaven, Gene was bolstered by a strong supporting cast. As Laura, she got great support from Dana Andrews and especially, Clifton Webb. Tierney was a leading lady who always benefited from a strong leading man.

The direction by Otto Preminger, score by David Raksin, cinematography by Arthur C. Miller, and costumes by Oleg Cassini for then-wife Tierney are all top class. But the characters don’t click, due to off-target casting and absurd plot contrivances. Whirlpool is worth a watch, but it’s not exactly a hypnotic film.

Richard Conte and Gene Tierney call it a night in 1950's "Whirlpool."

My take here on Laura, the first and best of four films that Gene Tierney and Otto Preminger made together:

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2018/04/laura-1944.html

 

 

 

‘Hurry Sundown’ a Hokey Race Melodrama 1967

 

Jane Fonda & Michael Caine as a not-so-happy couple in 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

Otto Preminger's notorious race drama Hurry Sundown was badly reviewed and a box office underperformer back in 1967, but it has a few redeeming qualities. The classic set up in a small town melodrama is where the poor have something that the rich want, and dramatic fireworks ensue. In Hurry Sundown, it’s land, Katie Scarlett! Sadly, the dynamite explosions overshadow the dramatic variety.

Hollywood started to address race issues in the mid-60s. But for every "In the Heat
of the Night," there were clinkers like 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

Michael Caine nearly disguises his famed Cockney accent to play southern schemer Henry Warren, who marries land-rich Julie (Jane Fonda) to try to build a new empire with wealthy developers. They have a combustible marriage, since Caine's hubby a total heel, and Fonda's southern belle is frustrated, natch. They also have a small son with issues, caused by Caine’s Henry. The boy vents his dysfunction by wailing like a set off car alarm. It's all very fake: Caine doesn't sound Cockney, nor does he sound southern; Jane's accent disappears early on, and goes back to her distinctive finishing school voice; and the boy's wails are so obviously dubbed it inspires hilarity instead of heartache.

Rich cousin Henry (Michael Caine) picks up poor cousin Rad (John Phillip Law),
just back from the war. Rad isn't fooled by his gesture, in 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

Faye Dunaway in her first film, as Lou, wife of soldier/farmer Rad,
in 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

Then there are the poor white farmers, one of two parcels that Caine’s conniver wants. They are played by Faye Dunaway and John Phillip Law, as Lou and Rad McDowell. Faye's been holding down the farm, and Law has just come back from WWII. This was Dunaway's first film and one of the few times that Faye went totally no-glam as the farmer's wife. She's also quite toned down in her performance as well. And while Law was not the most expressive actor, he's solid enough, and looks great in his coveralls! 

Michael Caine's Henry Warren wants both Robert Hooks & John Phillip Law's
 property in 1967's "Hurry Sundown." Thankfully, Caine's not wearing coveralls!

Faye Dunaway & John Phillip Law as the most photogenic farm couple ever,
in 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

The third group is the black family. Beah Richards plays Fonda's mammy, Rose Scott, who claims to own the parcel that Fonda says was just loaned to her. Robert Hooks is her son, Reeve, who's willing to stand up to rich white Caine. And Diahann Carroll is Vivian Thurlow, a school teacher that Hooks is sweet on.

Rose Scott (Beah Richards) wants to keep what's rightfully hers in "Hurry Sundown."

The beginning of the film opens with dynamite explosions, blowing up land to be developed into a canning factory. And the end of the film closes with the same, but for different reasons. The booming Hugh Montenegro score makes you think you're in for a spaghetti western, instead of a southern fried melodrama.

Michael Caine's cad is more interested in feeling Jane Fonda up than her '60s up-do
in the '40s-set "Hurry Sundown."

The movie is set post-WWII, but it's hard to tell, since typical of the movie era, there is only lip service paid to period authenticity. Much like the same year's southern melodrama, Reflections in a Golden Eye, you have token period details, but starring leading ladies with towering '60s hairdos, makeup, and clothes. Critics zeroed in on howlers that come mainly from the bad script and supporting ham actors. The leads, while hemmed in by stereotypes, are quite good.

Michael Caine as Henry Warren with his sax; Jane Fonda as wife Julie with her bottle.
 The notorious sax for sex scene from 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

Michael Caine, with slicked back hair and pinstripe suits, looks like a very pale lounge lizard as the heartless hubby. It's hard to imagine why Jane Fonda's Julie has the non-stop hots for him. While Fonda's accent is quickly gone with the wind, her acting is actually solid. Except for the camp classic moment where the southern minx plays her hubby's saxophone between his legs to turn him on! That Jane could make the scenes of Julie torn, between her frustrated spouse and screaming son, at all believable is a tribute to her innate acting ability.

Jane Fonda as Julie, the southern belle who can be bad, but is ultimately good,
in 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

Dunaway is quite natural in her first film, and without any of her '60s glam that was soon her trademark. Faye actually looks like a work-worn farm woman. She and Law's intimate moments are sweet, though Law is no Henry Fonda, as the poor man's voice of the people.

Madeleine Sherwood & Burgess Meredith are the southern couple from Hell in 1967's
 "Hurry, Sundown." That's Frank Converse in the middle, in an early role.

Beah Richards is fine as the mammy until she has a heart attack that makes her seem possessed. Robert Hooks is solid as the firebrand son. And Carroll is no-nonsense as the teacher who's lived up north, but back home, a bit like Pinky. The scene between Carroll and Fonda in the white women's only bathroom is surprisingly strong.

Diahann Carroll as a schoolteacher who's lived up north and deals with bigots
like Burgess Meredith's judge accordingly. From 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

What brings Hurry Sundown truly down is veteran hams Burgess Meredith as racist Judge Purcell and George Kennedy as good ole boy, Sheriff Coombs. The characters are written and performed as ridiculous stereotypes in the broadest of strokes. Madeleine Sherwood as Eula Purcell offers an over the top version of Sister Woman from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Jim Backus is quirky as the defense lawyer Carter Sillens and Robert Reed is smarmy as the prosecutor Lars Finchley. Frank Converse is decent in an early role as Fonda’s Reverend cousin, as is Rex Ingram as Professor Thurslow.

Those southern bigots sure liked their flowers! Burgess Meredith as the judge in 1967's
 "Hurry Sundown." Think Larry Gates in the same year's "In the Heat of the Night."

The plot motions of Hurry Sundown are so cartoonish, that it inspires amusement instead of drama. At least you can accept Hurry Sundown as a guilty pleasure, unlike the previous year’s pretentious southern potboiler, The Chase.

My look @ Jane Fonda's previous all-star southern melodrama, 1966's: The Chase: 

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2023/09/all-star-cast-cant-save-chase-1966.html

Jane Fonda's spoiled southern belle & Diahann Carroll's intense schoolteacher
have surprisingly strong scene together in 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

At two and a half hours, Hurry Sundown may seem long, but moves at a decent clip. The K.B. Gilden novel was over a 1,000 pages, which director Preminger thought would be the ‘60s Gone with the Wind.

Robert Hooks is a local farmer & Diahann Carroll is a schoolteacher who's lived
up north and don't quite see eye to eye in 1967's "Hurry Sundown."

Otto Preminger, who was never afraid to take on controversy, was always hit and miss in the latter half of his career. This heavy-handed Hurry Sundown is definitely a miss! 

"Ah-ll just scream if Ah have to hear his non-existent Southern accent ah-gin!"

 

Fonda: ‘The Best Man’ & ‘Advise and Consent’

Henry Fonda played more U.S. Presidents on film than any other actor.

 

I re-watched 1962’s Advise and Consent and ‘64’s The Best Man for two reasons. One was to compare these ‘modern’ political dramas with our current day politics. The films focus on topics that are still timely: Advise and Consent details a contentious confirmation hearing and The Best Man covers two competing presidential candidates whose pasts come back to haunt them.

The other was to untangle the two movies in my mind. Both starred Henry Fonda as a politician whose integrity is the focus. In Advise and Consent, Fonda’s Robert Leffingwell seeks confirmation as Secretary of State. In The Best Man, Fonda’s William Russell already holds that title, and is running for President. (A book could be written on how many times Fonda played the President of United States, or other noble politicians and military men.) The two films feature all-star casts, scathing looks at political wheeling and dealing, and surprisingly for the era, both have a gay blackmail subplot.

In 'The Best Man,' Fonda is a candidate with a conscience, but also a past.

‘The Best Man’ is…

In both Advise and Consent and The Best Man, Henry Fonda’s politicians have flaws, but are essentially decent men. In Advise, he lies about his early dabbling in Communism, only to spare an equally guilty political friend. In The Best Man, Henry’s character has a history of adultery, which he doesn’t deny. Fonda has a more substantial role as Russell in The Best Man, and is a supporting character as Leffingwell in Advise and Consent. While he’s good in both, Fonda has more to work in The Best Man. In the latter, Henry looks like quite the lean machine as he takes his bath. At almost 60, Fonda was one of the better preserved leading men of his generation, fit and distinguished, with those piercing blue eyes.

'Advise and Consent' has a huge cast. Though Henry Fonda gets top billing,
his role is really a supporting one, unlike 'The Best Man.'

In Advise and Consent, Fonda’s adversary is Brigham Anderson, played by Don Murray. “Brig” wants to get to the bottom of Fonda’s liberal politician past. Henry’s opponent in The Best Man is Cliff Robertson, as Joe Cantwell. An eagle to Fonda’s dove, Cliff’s Cantwell’s really a vulture. He’ll stop at nothing to win, including revealing that Fonda’s character once suffered a nervous breakdown.

This question seems quaint by today's standards!

Author! Author!

Advise and Consent was based on Allen Drury’s Pulitizer Prize winne/ best seller. The Best Man was adapted from Gore Vidal’s 1960 Broadway play, which was nominated for six Tony Awards, with over 500 performances given in its original run. Both writers’ work often covered the political scene, and these works are two of their best.

Director Otto Preminger with star Gene Tierney. They made four films together.

Diverse directors

Otto Preminger was a controversial director by his own design, but I liked his dramas that were based on strong stories and characters like Anatomy of a Murder and Advise and Consent. They still feel adult, realistic, and unsentimental. Preminger loved location shooting and you get to see a lot Washington, D.C. in Advise. Otto also liked to cast real people of the milieu, which again, added to the authenticity. While a bit long, I found Advise most engrossing and stylish. As for Franklin J. Schaffner, he was an intelligent director who came up through live TV, won a slew of Emmy Awards, capped by directing the famed TV tour that Jackie Kennedy gave of the White House. His film of Gore Vidal’s The Best Man is also adult and concisely told. And yet another twist that makes these two movies a mind meld: Prior, Schaffner directed a Broadway version of Advise and Consent. While it wasn’t the smash of The Best Man, it was a modest success.

Dying Presidents, Soon Deceased Actors

In 'Advise and Consent,' the President (Franchot Tone) receives bad news.
At 57, Tone looks like bad news!

Another reason for my brain blur with these films is that both have presidents who are gravely ill as pivotal characters. In Advise and Consent, at 57, Franchot Tone was the same age as Henry Fonda, but is a ghost of his former self. The fine-featured actor with a twinkle in his eye was a heavy drinker and smoker, which took its toll. Note that Tone has a cigarette going in nearly every scene.  In The Best Man, Lee Tracy is wonderfully irascible as an old-school Truman type, former President Art Hockstader. Tracy, who got the film’s sole Oscar nod, was a mere seven years older than Fonda. He’s quite believable as someone at death's door, since Tracy had a drinking problem, which had hurt his screen career. Ironically, the actors died exactly a month apart, in the fall of '68. Speaking of badly aging actors, Charles Laughton died at age 63, shortly after Advise and Consent completed filming.

In 'The Best Man,' Lee Tracy also looks worse for wear as an ailing President.

Political Hotshots with a Homo Past

Another reason I can’t keep these films straight (pun intended) is because I always get genial Don Murray and Cliff Robertson mixed up. Here, they are both self-righteous young politicians whose pasts hide a wartime romance with fellow soldiers. Both get phone calls threatening to reveal their past. Murray’s senator in Advise and Consent commits suicide; in The Best Man, Robertson is unnerved but goes on the offensive. Preminger, who loved to push the prurient envelope, presents Murray's secret more explicitly, but sympathetically. In Advise and Consent, Robertson’s Cantwell browbeats ninny Shelley Berman into the ground.

'A&C' plays up the gay blackmail plot more than 'The Best Man,' in the trailer & print ads. 

Hostess with the Mostest?

In Advise and Consent, Gene Tierney plays a classy Washington hostess who knows her stuff. This was Tierney’s fourth film with Otto Preminger. In The Best Man, Ann Sothern plays a political gadfly like a Washington D.C. version of Virginia Graham. Totally apples and oranges, Gene and Ann are both fun to watch.

Political Plots and Puns

The Best Man has Gore Vidal's acidic wit, with many lines that are still painfully apt. The Best Man is also a half hour shorter than Preminger's more leisurely Advise and Consent. But both are great fun if you like political intrigue and good dialogue.

'A&C' senator Don Murray gets an unwelcome call about his gay past!

So does Cliff Robertson's politician in 'The Best Man.'
Glad to know that voters aren't the only one who get unwanted solicitation calls!

Hollywood Heavyweights as Washington Movers and Shakers

The stars of 'The Best Man,' with real life politician Mike Mansfield, center.

Both films boast an all-star cast of mostly veteran actors. Advise and Consent has the bigger cast, perhaps because it’s 2 hours and 18 minute running time allows for more characters. While Margaret Leighton’s performance is good in The Best Man, I found it odd that they didn’t cast an American star opposite Fonda. Either Lauren Bacall or Maureen O’ Hara would have made a great brittle, estranged political wife, or Dorothy McGuire, for her class and intelligence. In Advise, Charles Laughton gets to run the gamut without running amok as wily, but ultimately fair ‘Seab’ Cooley. Walter Pigeon, so often cast as noble, gets to show a more sophisticated side as Senate Majority Leader Bob Munson from Michigan. Burgess Meredith and Shelley Burman get to be annoying as the quirky squealers in Advise and The Best Man, respectively. The acting in both films is top notch.

Surprising Cast Members

Betty White as a senator Bessie Adams. I'd vote for this "Golden Girl" in 2020!

In Advise and Consent, Betty White is a brunette and a senator! In The Best Man, Mahalia Jackson appears as herself, singing gospel at a political dinner. If this seems incongruous, remember this is the same film that gives “the voice of Frank Sinatra” a cast credit!

Sinatra got a credit for his record playing on the jukebox in the gay bar scene!

Opening titles

While The Best Man opens with a series of classic presidential photographs, Preminger calls upon his favorite titles artist, Saul Bass, to create another eye catching opening titles sequence.

I could look at the art titles of Saul Bass all day.

The bottom line: The Best Man has a zingier script and a shorter running time, but Advise and Consent has the bigger story and cast. Both get my vote!

'The Best Man' candidate Henry Fonda tries to keep his reputation clean!

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

The Man with the Golden Arm 1955

Otto Preminger's direction & Frank Sinatra's performance are still strong points
of "The Man with the Golden Arm."

'The Man with the Golden Arm' poster, with great graphics that put Saul Bass on the map in Hollywood.

Nelson Algren’s gritty novel, The Man with the Golden Arm, got great reviews and won the National Book Award in 1950. Though somewhat sanitized, the movie version received raves in 1955, as the first film to deal with drug abuse. Some film fans and critics today refer to The Man with the Golden Arm as “dated.” Since the film is over 60 years old, that’s a given. And the Otto Preminger film isn't perfect, for sure. However, while the film seems tame by today’s standards, it was made under strict censorship, yet took an honest look at a taboo subject. The film's makers chose to release the film without the Production Code's Seal of Approval, rather than to compromise any further—a gutsy move for a '50s film.

This is Frank Sinatra's brain on drugs: his girlfriend checks out his pupils by match light.

The story is straightforward: Former card dealer and drug addict Frankie Machine (Majcinek) is released from rehab, ready to make a fresh start, with dreams of becoming a drummer. Just one problem, though. Frankie returns to the same set of circumstances that drove him to drugs in the first place: a gambling boss who wants his ‘man with the golden arm’ to deal; a drug dealer who dangles the bait and snatches it away; a nagging wife who guilt trips him for her accident; a lost love who is still tantalizingly around; and most of all, Frankie’s tendency to fall back on drugs when life gets tough.

Interestingly, though it’s commonly thought that Frankie is hooked on heroin, his drug of choice is never named in the film version. And though the novel is famously set in Chicago, the movie’s locale isn’t mentioned. This is odd and adds an air of artificiality. The film’s depiction of drugs is discreet: Every time Frankie gets high, the camera cuts away. While Sinatra gives it his all in the climactic cold turkey scene, it goes by so quickly, it's like Frank has the 24 hour flu! However, what is shown is portrayed in an honest, non-exploitative way.

The street where Frankie lives...looks like a movie set!

What does date this film for me is not so much the drug depiction, but the artificiality of the slum sets and to a lesser extent, the two female stars. Perhaps the film’s tight budget dictated this, but while its attempt to come off as Actors Studio fifties modern, it looks more like the Warner Brothers’ 1938 Angels with Dirty Faces set. Much of 1954’s On the Waterfront was filmed on location and feels authentic. The Man with the Golden Arm sets are artfully detailed, but you never forget for a minute that you’re looking at a movie sound stage. And though token attempts are made to tone down the glamour, Kim Novak still looks studio styled as the working class bar hostess. And Eleanor Parker, as a wife stuck in a wheelchair, sports luxurious shoulder length curls and false eyelashes. The filmmakers strive for realism with the dingy clothes and apartments, but the two female stars stick out like stylish sore thumbs. 

Eleanor Parker blows as Zosh, Frankie's whining, 'crippled' wife. Parker's performance is like this throughout!

Aside from the artful sets is the equally artificial—and awful—performance by Eleanor Parker. In a part that would have been perfect for career whiner Shelley Winters, Parker comes off like a demanding movie star rather than a slum dweller. Parker plays Zosh, a wheelchair-bound wife whose accident was caused by her drunk driver husband, Frankie. Let’s just say that the guilt-mongering, teary-eyed Zosh is the most duplicitous damsel in distress since Joan Crawford’s Blanche Hudson. I’ve always thought Eleanor Parker was neck in neck with Anne Baxter as the throaty-voiced, arched-eyebrow grande dame of the ‘50s. With a mane of hair that would be perfect if Parker was starring in The Gift of the Magi, perhaps Zosh could have cut off her mammoth mane and sold it for Frankie's next fix. Parker has given strong performances elsewhere. Here, Eleanor is so over-the-top, which hits the heights of absurdity when the fake cripple is caught by drug dealer Darren McGavin, or when she takes her final swan song/dive. The real-life Sinatra probably would have smothered her with the nearest pillow after five minutes of Eleanor’s overwrought emoting. When Parker leaps out of her wheelchair and gives herself away at inopportune moments, it’s like watching a Carol Burnett movie spoof.

Though Kim carries much of her Columbia gloss to this United Artists film, Novak is affecting as Frankie's true love.

In her time, Kim Novak was regularly panned as the worst type of studio-created actress. Kim’s "creation" was part of her publicity, but also became her cross to bear. Still, Novak had her moments, especially in films that exploited her self-consciousness and vulnerability. Kim’s big breakthrough was 1955’s Picnic, and Hitchcock cannily exploited this quality in ‘58’s Vertigo. While Novak wasn’t the most versatile or dynamic actress, those sad qualities Kim possessed work for Molly, the beaten down working girl. Also, Novak and Sinatra share a sad, loners’ rapport that offers some much-needed reality.

Director Otto Preminger rehearsing with Kim Novak and Frank Sinatra.

What’s fascinating is looking at pictures of director Otto Preminger working with Novak and Sinatra. Preminger could make mincemeat of new actors, and yet he seems to have treated the oft-uncertain Kim kindly. And Otto, who was an autocrat on the set, miraculously got along fine with frequently temperamental Frank, who liked to do things his way, such as not doing more than one take. Bob Willoughby’s set photos show them all working intensely and happily.

Frank Sinatra as Frankie Machine, returning home from rehab. Sinatra is so expressive in even the still shots.

Like his singing, Frank Sinatra is subtle and naturalistic when he was at his best as an actor. However, Frank’s acting style got him the rap that he wasn't doing anything onscreen, in some quarters. As an actor, Sinatra always reminded me of his idol Humphrey Bogart—always making it look easy—though obviously Bogie was more dedicated to his craft.

To me, Frank is the one thing that's truly real in The Man with the Golden Arm. This movie came soon after Frank’s legendary comeback in From Here to Eternity. As the down on his luck Frankie, I think the real Frank used some of his recent troubles to convey his character’s pain. His character wears his heart on his sleeve, and that was one of Sinatra's gifts as a performer. Whether Frankie Machine is boyishly optimistic or almost child-like when the chips are down, Sinatra is at home playing this character, and is subtle and superb.

Frankie getting his fix, in 'The Man with the Golden Arm.'

The nifty opening titles by Saul Bass made him a Preminger favorite and the go-to movie titles person in Hollywood for a decade. There’s some stylish, evocative photography by another long-time Otto associate, Sam Leavitt. The bombastic score is by the love him or hate him Elmer Bernstein. I usually enjoy Elmer on a soundtrack, but he’s awfully intrusive here—just as much as that other Bernstein—Leonard—was On the Waterfront! That said, Bernstein did snag an Oscar nod.

Frankie waiting on wheel-chair bound wife Zosh (Eleanor Parker) literally hand and foot.

Overall, this was one of Otto Preminger’s stronger efforts as a director. Though some elements are hokey, he elicits strong performances from most of the cast, and pushed the envelope as far as he could in regard to the drug story line. Plus, Preminger’s modern dramas were more adult and realistic than typical Hollywood fare, even in just the way the male and female characters related to one another. And though The Man with the Golden Arm's author was unhappy with the film's changes, most of them were pretty sound for mid-century film making, and nearly none of them were related to the narcotics aspect of the story.

The Man with the Golden Arm is noteworthy and deserves to be seen, for how Hollywood first dealt with drug addiction on the screen, but especially to watch the heartfelt performance by Frank Sinatra.

Amazingly, Frank Sinatra was fine with a firebrand director...and rehearsing!

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/