All-Star Cast Can’t Save ‘The Chase’ 1966

Robert Redford as "Bubber" Jackson, the object of 1966's "The Chase."

The Chase was a slog of a southern melodrama that teemed with great talent, but was still a great big flop when it was released in 1966.

First a Horton Foote play and later a novel, the film version of The Chase came with a screenplay by playwright Lillian Hellman. Sounds so distinguished, right? You wouldn’t know judging from the amateurish results. Perhaps it was because neither Foote’s play nor novel was successful and Hellman hadn’t written a screenplay in two decades. Producer Sam Spiegel, after his successful epic Lawrence of Arabia, apparently desired a southern epic, Tennessee Williams slathered with some Edward Albee scathing social commentary. This was at odds with Foote's slice of life style and Hellman's biting political agenda. 

Marlon Brando is Sheriff Calder, who the small town disrespects, in "The Chase."

The center of the drama is around a bad boy loser, “Bubber” Jackson, who escapes from prison just before he's supposed to get out. This impetuous move is made worse when his escape partner kills a guy during their carjacking. Once again, Bubber's holding the bag.

James Fox is Jake Rogers, who's in love with best friend Bubber's wife, Anna,
played by Jane Fonda, in 1966's "The Chase."

The locals of a small town in Tarl County, Texas are alternately excited, angry, or scared that Bubber is heading their way. It all climaxes over a Friday night where everyone's emotions boil over, southern style. With a sheriff that nobody respects, the town meltdown feels like High Noon meets Twin Peaks.

Angie Dickinson, center, plays Brando's wife Ruby. E.G. Marshall, left, is Val Rogers,
 the town's rich man in 1966's "The Chase."

Hellman disavowed the final script and her criticism was apt, but her imprint still seems to be in the mix. Like many mid-60s movies that seemed to have one foot stuck in the ‘50s, this all feels very back lot, glossy, and overdramatic. The foot that’s in the ‘60s is very obvious in its “frankness.” Whoever really wrote the final script seemed to lift some juicy stuff from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Speaking of which, why on earth did Redford turned down Nick to play Bubber!

Robert Redford chose "The Chase" & "This Property is Condemned" over
"Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" as his 1966 films.

As often the case with these big budget bombs, the allure of some legendary talents got other big names to sign on: The combo of Brando as star, playwrights Foote and Hellman, Sam Spiegel producing, enticed many to come on board.

The Chase’s four leads do well despite the dreary script: Marlon Brando, Jane Fonda, Robert Redford, and Angie Dickinson are all solid and natural. Brando’s performing could be quite variable from the '60s on, but as Sheriff Calder he underplayed and is believable as a good man in a mean small town. Fonda is good as the town bad girl, Anna, estranged wife of Bubber. Dickinson, playing a normal woman instead of her usual man trap, is straightforward as Brando's wife, Ruby. And Robert Redford, often remote as an actor, is intense as Bubber.

Another telltale sign that 1966's "The Chase" was stuck in Hollywood's earlier era:
 Even though Jane Fonda's playing poor white trash, her hair and makeup are fab.

I laughed when I read that Brando chose to gain weight to play the southern sheriff who’s in a rut. Considering Marlon’s physique immediately before and after, I’d compare the tale with Elizabeth Taylor being ordered to gain weight for Virginia Woolf . Despite that and claims that he became bored during shooting, his performance is consistent and controlled, without Marlon’s excessive mannerisms.

Marlon Brando as the sheriff & Miriam Hopkins as the convict's mother in
"The Chase." Director Arthur Penn had to tread lightly with both--surprise!

The Chase should have taught Jane Fonda a lesson to let the script be the deciding factor in her film career. But Fonda hadn’t learned from an earlier southern camp classic Walk on the Wild Side, nor did this keep her from rushing to Hurry Sundown shortly after The Chase. The difference is Jane's actually good in the latter two movies, instead of being amateurishly hammy in Wild Side.

Jane Fonda looking just great in the junkyard scene of  1966's "The Chase."
Much later, a friend told Jane her hair should have gotten its own credit!

Redford, who doesn’t interact with the other stars till the climax of the film, actually shows subtle emotion as Bubber, whereas he often played it cool to come off like an anti-hero. And while playing Marlon Brando’s loyal wife wasn’t really the role of a lifetime, Angie Dickinson wanted to work with Brando and play a serious role.

It's not easy wearing this shade of green! Angie Dickinson as the sheriff's wife,
wearing a dress that the town's rich man bought her, in 1966's "The Chase."

Then there's the supporting cast. Robert Duvall is empathetic and underplays as the bespectacled wimp Edwin to Janice Rule's brazen, slutty wife Emily. They are a Texas-style twosome ala Virginia Woolf’s George and Martha. Janice Rule, who boozily taunts him with another man, comes off more like Bette Davis in Beyond the Forest than Martha! Martha Hyer is basically a middle-aged Honey from Virginia Woolf, and is utterly amateurish as the wife who can’t handle her booze or hubby. Richard Bradford makes a great villain, as her creep husband Damon Fuller. E.G. Marshall as rich guy Val Rogers and James Fox as his married son Jake, who’s in love with Fonda’s Anna, are solid in cliché roles.

Was Tobey Maguire inspired by Robert Duvall's dazed expressions in "The Chase?"

Janice Rule, as Duvall's trampy wife, is having an affair with town bad boy,
Richard Bradford, in 1966's "The Chase."

Miriam Hopkins really slices the ham thick as Bubber's guilt-ridden mother, but she's still effective in putting this over-baked drama over. Henry Hull, memorably awful as Gary Cooper’s mentor in The Fountainhead, is just as hammy here, as the town’s one-man Greek chorus, commenting on one and all as he takes an evening stroll. Jocelyn Brando is aged up to play his wife, but unfortunately she was just 45 to Hull’s 75, so it doesn’t work at all.

Despite a 30 year age difference, Jocelyn Brando played Henry Hull's wife in 1966's "The Chase." She would have been younger if she had been cast as Redford's mother!

There are not one but three parties depicted on the fateful night: a big birthday party for Marshall's big daddy; the trashy locals swinging bash; and the teens rockin' out next door. A measure of The Chase’s over the top dramatics is how ineptly these parties are depicted. The rich Val Rogers “colorful” party is filled with suck ups straight out of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. The swingers’ soiree is like Virginia Woolf, but with guns. And the kids' rockin and rollin' looks like Peanuts' characters dancing like nobody's watching! Most hilarious of all is that a precocious teen is played by future munchkin singer/songwriter Paul Williams—remember him? Here, Paul looks like a bespectacled Chucky doll! Oh, and there’s a raucous dental convention in town—heck, everyone but the Hell’s Angels are here partying down.

Future singer/songwriter Paul Williams is center of the young crowd in "The Chase."

The Texan characters are nearly all trashy or rednecks. The allusion to the Kennedy assassination is clumsily made with a Jack Ruby-style act in the finale. Producer Sam Spiegel wanted to make an important statement film about the American dream going up in flames. Hellman specifically wanted to make Texas the target as an indictment on America, symbolized by the recent JFK assassination. Foote was brought back into the fold to beef up Hellman’s script, bewildered by how his intimate work was now blown out of proportion.

Janice Rule as the adulterous wife who comes between unhappy couple Martha Hyer
 & Richard Bradford in 1966's "The Chase."

The Chase, whatever the message is striving for, is quite muddled. That all Americans are violent and racist? That the capitalist system is rotten and had seeped down to all levels of the economic caste system? The case for the ills of US society is presented about as convincingly as the operatically absurd The Fountainhead. The big problem with making The Chase was too many egos using the film as a soapbox, with non-Hollywood director Arthur Penn not putting his foot down, like fellow neophyte Mike Nichols did on controversial Virginia Woolf.

Siblings Jocelyn and Marlon Brando on the set of 1966's "The Chase."

Arthur Penn, whose career had been pretty classy, but mostly on stage, had laid a few artsy bombs, like Mickey One. Penn claimed the cutting of the film by Spiegel was the culprit for The Chase’s failure. Well, that still leaves Arthur Penn to blame for the horrible acting by half the cast, accepting an overworked script without a fight, not insisting on location filming, and tip-toeing around difficult actors like Brando and Miriam Hopkins.

Producer Sam Spiegel toots his own horn in this ad for 1966's "The Chase."
Luckily for mere director Arthur Penn, he directed "Bonnie & Clyde" the next year!

Producer Sam Spiegel really played up his resume while presenting The Chase as his film. And what Hollywood type wouldn’t brag, with these producer credits: The African Queen; On the Waterfront; The Bridge on the River Kwai; Suddenly, Last Summer; and Lawrence of Arabia. Three won Best Picture Oscars. However, when you think of any of these films, do you think of Spiegel, like you would a Selznick? While he wanted Carte Blanche instead of collaboration, what Spiegel did inflamed the other talents’ egos, along with his own. Too many chefs stirred the pot, resulting in an overcooked film.

The Chase is worth watching once for the talent involved. But the difference between this and the following year’s Hurry Sundown is that the latter is watchable trash and The Chase is a dull, muddled message film.

Once again, Marlon Brando gets a beatdown on film, and he was all for it,
in 1966's "The Chase."

‘The Name of the Game’ an Ordeal for Jessica Walter 1968

Jessica Walter as topless cocktail waitress turned top-tier socialite Linda Ramsey.

When I was a grade school-age kid, The Name of the Game was one of those "grown up" TV shows that I loved. That Dave Grusin theme song instantly brings back memories. Game’s storytelling was considered hip and adult, and this Upper Michigan kid quickly made that distinction between what Mom liked, and what Dad liked. Mom favored cool shows like The Mod Squad, and Dad watched mostly westerns and the Green Bay Packers—though she watched the “modern” westerns, with hunky stars. When Name was still on at night time, its reruns were shown on our local afternoon movie show. My Mom enjoyed The Name of the Game, which was on NBC Friday nights, between two of Mom’s very favorites, High Chaparral and Star Trek!

Friday nights in 1968 were a fave TV night for my Mom!
'The Name of the Game' had three rotating stars: Gene Barry, Robert Stack, & Tony Franciosa.

The Name of the Game’s three leading men were essentially stars of their own 90 minute TV movies. Today, I still enjoy the shows more for the storytelling, and not so much the stars. In our house, we always thought Robert Stack was a stiff, with that sonorous voice and glowering eyes, sort of a minor league Charlton Heston. Gene Barry was another actor who acted with his voice, but seemed mellower, if slightly pompous. We thought Tony Franciosa was the king of cool back in the day, but now, he seems rather smug, like another Tony—Curtis. Still charming as ever is Susan Saint James, as the wisecracking girl Friday, Peggy Maxwell.

Veteran Robert Stack had youngsters Ben Murphy and Susan Saint James as his co-stars.

This episode, titled Ordeal, starred regulars Robert Stack as hard-nosed Dan Farrell, Crime magazine reporter, Ben Murphy as cocky sidekick Joe Sample, and Susan Saint James as Peggy, the quirky and often kidnapped secretary.

The guest stars are from my eye-roll Hollywood Hall of Fame: perennial plastic starlet Martha Hyer; middle-aged but still-pouty Farley Granger; and drum roll, please: Lloyd Bochner, with his trademark slicked back hair, ascot, and sneer. Most surprising is an uncredited O.J. Simpson, as the gas chamber prison guard. I guess The Juice got promoted when he rescued that cat in The Towering Inferno!

Jessica Walter faces the gas chamber with prison guard O.J. Simpson!

On the plus side, there’s Jessica Walter, at the start of her long roll in TV guest star roles, right up there with Vera Miles. Walter’s role was a showcase for her, sort of a mini-I Want to Live! And Jessica has that old time movie diva vibe, like Susan Hayward and Anne Baxter, theatrical, yes, but also intense and empathetic. Walter makes the most of her juicy role as Linda Ramsey, tough as the young "dancer/waitress," later the hurt wife, and finally the stoic figure on death row, fighting for her life. Walter looks lovely, even with her short '60s hairdo that would soon evolve into her famous Play Misty for Me shag.

I realized right off that Ordeal was a take-off on the infamous shooting of high society’s Billy Woodward by his former showgirl, now wife, Ann. This scandal was immortalized in the '70s by Truman Capote as part of his notorious Answered Prayers. Later, Dominick Dunne became a best-selling author with a fictionalized account, The Two Mrs. Grenvilles. Well, Ordeal got there first!

Socialite from the wrong side of the tracks shoots her boozy rich husband, & claims she mistook him for a burglar?! 'Ordeal' could have been called 'The Two Ms. Ramseys!'

In this take, Linda Ramsey is on death row, for the murder of her rich husband, Tom Ramsey, respectively played by Walter and Bochner. She shot him, claiming she thought he was a prowler. However, their marriage was very publicly on the rocks, and his wealthy family and friends thought she was a gold digger. The drunken playboy met Linda when she was a topless waitress, which is ironic, since Walter is rail thin here. Bochner's Tom seems to think of his marriage as a joke. He humiliates Linda by ripping her top off at a ‘welcome to his world’ cocktail party, to demonstrate how he met her. I recall being outraged by this as a 9-year-old!

Farley Granger co-stars as Jessica Walter's louche lover.

The bitter sister-in-law, Billie Ramsey, is played by Martha Hyer, in her usual mannequin manner. Her character is angry at being second banana to a brother who is bananas! Hyer’s Billie sees Linda as a fortune hunter and Tom as a debit to the family. However, Hyer’s expressions of unhappiness or anger looks like someone who just smelled something bad. At 44, Martha looks pretty, but the late '60s clothing and hair styles Martha sports make her slightly plump figure and face look like a glamorous bowling ball.

Martha Hyer as the sinister sister-in-law, with Farley Granger as a charming hanger-on.

Farley Granger plays the handsome, charming, and weak man with ease—sort of an American Louis Jourdan. Interestingly, Granger and Robert Stack acted together in the notoriously awful TV version of Laura the same year, with Lee Radziwill in the title role, Granger in the Vincent Price gigolo role, and Stack as Dana Andrews’ detective. Here, in Ordeal, their roles aren’t really that different.

The opening titles of 'The Name of the Game' were made even more memorable paired with Dave Grusin's theme song. 

Lloyd Bochner is haughty and hammy as Tom, first as the degrading husband, then suddenly hurt and pathetic when he finds out his abused wife is cheating. Bochner’s character is a lot like Robert Stack’s Oscar –nominated role of a rich boy drunk, whose wife is suspected of shooting him, in Written on the Wind. That too, was based on a real life murder. Back to Bochner, who made a career of supercilious and slimy characters, from cheesy movies like Sylvia and Harlow to television villains, most memorably as Dynasty’s Cecil Colby. 

Robert Stack doesn't take kindly to intimidation, as former FBI man now reporter Dan Farrell.

Robert Stack as Dan Farrell, was an extension of his famed Eliot Ness role in The Untouchables. Dan was also once an FBI man, now a crusading reporter, inflamed by the murder of his wife. The role is tailored for the actor, so the deadpan stare and booming radio voice are on full display. Now Bob Stack was by all accounts a nice guy, who had the good humor to spoof his image in the Airplane movies. But Bob’s humor is not on display as Dan!

Ben Murphy as Joe Sample, Dan Farrell's cocky sidekick.

Ben Murphy's character as the outspoken sidekick is rather annoying. Considering he’s supposed to be a hip young guy, his knee jerk reactions to everything are today middle-brow. Still, Murphy was an engaging actor, who always reminded me of a young Paul Newman mixed with Ryan O’ Neal. His big break, Alias Smith & Jones was just around the corner, another Mom favorite. Susan Saint James isn’t in this episode much, but it’s always nice to see her good-humored Peggy Maxwell.

Dan Farrell's wise veteran paired with energetic upstart Joe Sample is a TV show staple.

There are a lot of clever twist and turns in this episode and I won’t spoil them for you. The Name of the Game can be hard to come by, but YouTube is a good place to start, as are various classic TV cable channels, and Amazon.

The dramatic tale of Ordeal, especially as enacted by Jessica Walter, has stayed with me all these years, and I’m glad to have seen this episode again.

From gas chamber to cover girl--that was a close one, Jessica!

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‘Some Came Running’ Stars Go the Distance 1958

Frank Sinatra & James Jones' realism versus MGM & Minnelli's gloss in 'Some Came Running.'

Some Came Running has a critical reputation that has run the gamut over the decades. Running was a big commercial success back in 1958, but received mixed reviews. Critics were kind to the actors and Minnelli’s magnificent finale, but not to the source material and MGM gloss.

Today’s critics, film fans, and TCM have revised this movie into the realm of an “essential” film. I always enjoy Some Came Running as a highly entertaining melodrama, with a strong cast, top-notch production values, and an intriguing look at postwar middle-class American morals, as filtered through Hollywood's studio system era. However, an essential classic? Not quite. Censorship and MGM’s “classy” gloss dilutes Some Came Running’s consideration as a classic.

Look what the Greyhound dragged in! Sinatra as the boozy ex-soldier and MacLaine as the brassy babe.

Some Came Running, James Jones' 1200 –plus page follow up to his breakthrough novel From Here to Eternity, was a critical flop, but reader curiosity made Jones’ soldier homecoming story a commercial success. Then MGM bought the behemoth, boiled it down, which was directed by stylish Vincente Minnelli. Frank Sinatra made one of Hollywood's most famous comebacks as scrappy Maggio in Eternity, and was enthused to star in another James Jones’ saga.

Sinatra's Dave and Martin's Bama in their first film scene together.

The old ‘you can’t go home again’ advice certainly proves true for Sinatra’s Dave Hirsh. The army vet rolls into town on a bus, sleeping off a drunk, though how he could catch any zzz’s with Elmer Bernstein’s bombastic opening score is beyond me. With Shirley MacLaine’s good-time Ginny tagging along, Sinatra decides to stick around Parkman, Illinois, where he proceeds to get into non-stop trouble. His partner in hi-jinks is Dean Martin’s Bama Dillert, a gambler and boozer. Not helping Dave’s homecoming is Ginny’s psycho ex-boyfriend, who won’t take no for an answer. Meanwhile, Dave’s older “respectable” brother Frank has introduced him to an academic daughter and father, Gwen and Professor French. Dave is instantly in love with her, but his bad boy baggage gets in the way, not to mention Gwen’s inhibitions. Things come to a head at Parkman’s Centennial celebration, vividly depicted by director Minnelli’s acclaimed carnival climax.

Minnelli expertly introduces the characters and their stakes in the film’s opening scenes. Mid-way, though, Running begins to stroll, dwelling too long on the cynical soldier’s romance with the respectable writing teacher. Perhaps the several drunken altercations could have been tightened up, too. The 137 minute melodrama could have easily been kept at two hours.

Shirley MacLaine got her first juicy role with 'Running' as tart with a heart Ginny Moorehead.

At first, the female stars of Some Came Running got the lioness’ share of praise. Running is recalled as Shirley MacLaine's big breakthrough and Martha Hyer's career peak. Both got Oscar nominations, so that was the take at the time. 

Shirley MacLaine, looking like Stella Dallas, confronts tasteful teacher Martha Hyer over Sinatra's soldier.

Shirley MacLaine rightly became a star in Some Came Running, after several years of getting miscast or stuck in middling material. As Ginny Moorehead, this became the Shirley MacLaine boilerplate role for many years: the tart with a heart. MacLaine is warm, charismatic, funny, and dramatic as the floozy who follows Frank’s Dave Hirsh to his hometown, and now works at a bra factory. However, the flip side of Shirley's star quality is present as well: over the top and too “on.” A decade later, MacLaine’s mugging would turn to caricature as yet another bimbo in Sweet Charity. At times, Ginny comes off like Lucy Ricardo's trashy sister! Part of this is due to the screenplay. In one scene, Ginny actually calls the library a 'li-berry.' Is anyone really that dumb? Minnelli should have dialed Shirley's shrillness down a notch, but both he and MacLaine had a tendency toward overstatement. Running set Shirley MacLaine off on a long career. While Shirley’s Ginny is great fun and touching, she’s also grating instead of ingratiating, at times.

Martha Hyer as Gwen French, the 'classy' other woman in Frank's Dave Hirsh's life.

Martha Hyer had a rather odd career. Hyer was 30 when her career finally got traction, and was often cast as the bland second lead that lost the leading man to the unique Audrey Hepburn or Sophia Loren. And while she wins Sinatra at the end of Some Came Running, Shirley stole the show. Somehow, Hyer got a best supporting actress Oscar nom as Gwen, the prudish college teacher who lives with her father. Even more astounding is how Hyer got a nomination over Judith Anderson and Madeleine Sherwood in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, also an MGM production. Hyer always reminds me a pod person who gives slightly stilted line readings, as if she’s visiting planet Earth. To be fair, she has some of the movie’s worst lines, not to mention constantly referring to Sinatra’s character by his full name. Hyer was another actress pitched as the next Grace Kelly; let's just say that Martha Hyer was at least more talented than Tippi Hedren. The one scene where Hyer comes to life is when she and Frank get down to business and her Gwen has a hard time warming up. Totally ‘50s, all silhouettes and symbolism, with the uptight teacher letting down her hair, in every way, it is still an effective scene.

When Hyer's frigid Gwen allows Sinatra's Dave to let her hair down, it unleashes her womanly desires!

As skillful as the supporting actresses are, they’re working against the stereotypical female roles that they're given to play—and this is true of stars MacLaine and Hyer, as well. The women are typecast as whores, virgins, bitches or saints. That the actresses breathe any humanity and life into the roles is to their credit, as well as Minnelli, an empathetic woman's director of the highest order. Leora Dana bristles as Agnes, Frank Hirsh’s frustrated country club wife. As rigid as Dana is, she gives you a feel for how trapped Agnes is in her life. Betty Lou Kiem is bright and likable as Dawn, the good daughter, and not insufferable like so many ‘50s movie ingénues. Nancy Gates is genuinely touching as Frank’s secretary, Edith Barclay, who lets her guard down and goes for a romantic drive with the boss. When discovered, she’s the one who must pay. Nancy Gates had a sympathetic and sensual quality that should have led to bigger opportunities. Connie Gilchrist is a warm presence as working class local, Jane Barclay, Edith’s mother. She runs into Sinatra’s Dave at Smitty’s, the local watering hole, and Gilchrist is a breath of fresh air, as always.

Nancy Gates' secretary takes boss Arthur Kennedy out for an after work drive.

I think the male performances are the real standouts in Some Came Running, as they are more naturalistic and hold up better. This is partly because the women's roles were archetypes that are more aptly stereotypes today. The other is the way the actresses played them, when female stars' performances were still more "elevated" than their male co-stars, during the last gasp of studio era “star” acting.

After praise in several post-Eternity roles, Frank Sinatra's persona was rapidly overshadowing his acting roles, and critics began to downplay his abilities. Some non-Sinatra fans claim that he just walked through his movies. The fact that he was famous for doing one or two takes only didn't help.

Frank Sinatra at his naturalistic best, a mostly complementary contrast to Shirley MacLaine's splashy performance.

I think Frank Sinatra's terrific in Some Came Running. As Dave Kirsh, he's the prodigal son who comes back home after 16 years. Aside from a wanderer and carouser, Dave’s been a writer, a soldier, and he's now back where he started. Sinatra is a natural actor, his wry, sarcastic humor is terrific, but he's not afraid to show his tender side, either. His scenes with MacLaine’s tart are alternately sweet or volatile. Dave’s sarcasm toward his phony brother is funny, as are his bantering scenes with Dean’s Bama. Frank’s scenes with love interest Martha Hyer, as Gwen French, become increasingly tender, after his character’s initial bad boy come-ons. Aside from his famed vocals, Frank had a very distinctive and expressive speaking voice, no surprise, for a singer famed for his phrasing.

Like The Manchurian Candidate, Frank is depicted as a deep thinker who loves books, when he's not boozing or chasing broads. Sinatra always came across as street smart, so it's believable that his character is a rough and tumble writer. 

On the flip side, this is yet another movie where Sinatra is at least a decade too old for his role. Honestly, he was even long in the tooth at 38, as Private Maggio, in From Here to Eternity. But Frank's 'bad boy' rep lasted decades. So, Sinatra was 43 in Running, yet his character left boarding school before he was 18 and gone for 16 years as the film begins... Another familiar Frank trope is there's a fight scene where Sinatra is super unconvincing. He still sports the famed scrawny physique here, and the fights feel “stylized,” and it’s about as convincing as Elvis' karate moves!

Frankie's rep as a lover boy is a bit pandered to here, where he's all over Martha Hyer like white on rice. It looks worse by today's standards, but even for '58, 40-something Sinatra acting like he's never seen a woman before is a bit much.

Especially amusing is when Martha's Gwen, the frigid writing teacher who maintains she's only interested in Dave the writer, not the frisky bad boy. After reading a story that the struggling novelist had given up on, Gwen summons him and announces with a straight face: "Dave, you have a very exciting talent!" Any Sinatra fan worth their salt knows that Frank was famous for an exciting talent, other than his singing pipes. And he proceeds to apply that talent to Gwen’s own analysis paralysis!

'Some Came Running' introduces Dean Martin as a strong dramatic and comedic actor.

The real surprise was how good Dean Martin was as Bama Dillert, the seemingly sanguine gambler who never takes his hat off. Martin, one of the most laid back show biz personalities ever, is another actor easy to underrate. But Martin just about steals the show and that's saying something with MacLaine turned loose here. Martin is likeable and great with the one-liners and double takes, but he's also a bit melancholy and fatalistic. 

As the gambler who gloms on to Frank’s new guy in town, Martin is at first his genial self. But as time goes by, you realize Dillert's willful obliviousness that life is just one long party is a defense mechanism. Later, when Sinatra’s Dave decides to marry MacLaine's Ginny, Martin’s Bama lets him have it, and he's pretty harsh about it. And Dean plays those not-so-genial moments well, too.

'Kid' brother Frank Sinatra to Arthur Kennedy in 'Some Came Running.' Arthur was a year older than Frank!

Arthur Kennedy once specialized in playing sensitive guys. As he grew older, Kennedy also excelled at playing creeps. Now a character actor, he was most memorable as sleazy janitor Lucas Cross in1957’s Peyton Place. Kennedy is great here, too, as Sinatra's “older” brother, Frank Hirsh, who married well and abandoned his kid brother Dave in a boarding school. In real life, Arthur was only a year older than Frankie! Kennedy is a comic bad guy here, the sanctimonious ass who is actually a sad case. Frank Hirsh reminded me of Frank Burns on M*A*S*H. Kennedy's scenes tangling with Sinatra are alternately dramatic or offer comic relief. Still, the scene when Kennedy's restless Frank takes his secretary out for a drive captures that small town desperation well. 

Vincente Minnelli, who gets downgraded by some critics for his non-musical films, does a great job giving Some Came Running in-depth characters, dramatic situations, and some Douglas Sirk-like subtle digs at American social mores. Yet, his love of MGM gloss gets the better of him, especially with the French father/daughter characters, who are pure drivel.

The home of the phony French family, complete with kitchen/library combo, perfectly sums up intrusive MGM gloss.

The extensive location scenery in Madison, Indiana as the fictional Parkman, Illinois gives authenticity against the MGM gloss. Elmer Bernstein’s score starts sonorously, like a Bible epic, but once Running gets going, his usual trademark jazzy and bombastic style kicks in.

As someone who grew up in a middle-America small town, Some Came Running has a real feel for that life. However the duality of that authenticity versus the genteel MGM version of upper middle class life keeps Some Came Running from being a true classic. The post war era feels right, though I often forgot the movie was set just after WWII. Except for Frank’s uniform and a marquee playing Elizabeth Taylor’s 1946 Courage of Lassie, the movie feels like 1958. Still, the post war era of celebrating peace and prosperity with smoking, drinking, gambling, and hanky panky was a party that lasted a mighty long time! Frank has more fun doing all of the above with Martin’s gambler and MacLaine’s bimbo, than engaging in stilted banter with the collegiate French family—who can blame him?

Frank Sinatra and Shirley MacLaine in the brilliant Minnelli finale of 'Some Came Running.'

Watch Some Came Running for its stellar cast and James Jone’s recognizably human characters in this mid-west version of Peyton Place.

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