The Detective (1968)

The Detective (Gordon Douglas, 1968) You spend a lot of time looking into the wearily dead blue eyes of Frank Sinatra in this one, as he tries to come to grips with a world he no longer understands, driving in the rain, looking for the clue to where it all went wrong.

There are some notable behind-the-scenes things that merit a footnote in Sinatra's career and in movies. For one thing, the film rights to the novel were bought by a guy named Robert Evans, a former actor associated with the Evan-Picone fashion line, and he got the ball rolling on the film for 20th Century Fox. But, before any film started rolling, he was offered the title of head of production by Paramount Studios (where he would oversee Paramount's glory days shepherding such films as True Grit, Love Story, and The Godfather, among others). Once at Paramount, he concentrated on their planned film of Rosemary's Baby, which starred an actress who'd become popular on television, but was also the then-current wife of Frank Sinatra, Mia Farrow. Sinatra was adamant that his wife appear with him in The Detective. She refused, convinced by Evans that she'd win an Oscar for her work in Rosemary (a tactic he used quite often, ironically, to persuade cast and crew to do his bidding). Farrow stuck with Rosemary's Baby and Sinatra served her divorce papers on its set. Jacqueline Bisset was cast, instead, sporting a wig of short hair that was reminiscent of Farrow's chopped hair-style.

The Detective hasn't aged well. What was daring and "adult" at the time of the film's release (the forced underground homosexual culture, along with nymphomania) now seems dated and "quaint," even. More compelling, and ground-breaking is the police procedural in the foreground—a murder investigation that has a ritual aspect to it. The victim's house-mate (Tony Musante) is noticeably absent, and Sinatra's Det. Joe Leland leads the investigation to track the man down, leading to his arrest, trial and execution. Textbook, it's thought. 

But, later, he's approached by Norma McIver (Jacqueline Bisset) the wife of a prominent suicide (William Windom), who committed the act very publicly, and Leland's investigation leads him to question his earlier actions and those of his authorities. All this, while reconciling his difficulties with his wife (Lee Remick). The fallibility of the cops to follow their prejudices, and pressure from corrupt superiors was something new to the genre. These cops had flat-feet of clay.

Director Douglas—not one for subtlety—overlays the execution

scene rather than just letting the character's grief tell the story.

The director, Gordon Douglas, was a favorite of star Sinatra, shooting quickly and efficiently, letting Sinatra do his set-up's in the minimal number of takes that he preferred. The cast also has prominent roles for Ralph Meeker, Jack Klugman, Al Freeman Jr. and Robert Duvall as other detectives in Leland's squad.

If the film has passed into the discount bin of film history, it does have one more tangential link to claim some significance beyond itself.

There were other novels in the "Leland" series by author Roderick Thorp, including one, "Nothing Lasts Forever," in which The Detective tries to save his family from terrorists in a high-rise professional building. 

 

That's right, it's the book on which Die Hard was based. Per his contract, Sinatra had first refusal reprising the character and as he would be the age of 73 at the time of filming, he passed. Now, just imagine if John McLaine had said "Dooby-dooby-doo" instead of "Yippie-Kye-yay..."

Goodbye, Columbus

Goodbye, Columbus (Larry Peerce,1969) In my early, stuttering days seeing as many movies as I could, I watched this Paramount production of Philip Roth's 1959 novella on television (ABC Network, I think). I remember it being a bit bewildering for there would be whole stretches of film that would be frozen on an image while the soundtrack remained intact. I don't recall hitting my portable television to see if there was a broadcast issue—in those days, I would have adjusted the "rabbit-ears"—but it was a little frustrating. Frustrating enough that I bought the book to see if I could find out what was going on (I should also mention this was pre-home video/VHS-Beta/DVD/streaming or any of that, which occurred with a big roll-out in 1980). "Buying the book" was what I did whenever these things happened, a tried-and-true researching method that I'd employed ever since watching 2001: A Space Odyssey bent my 13 year old brain into incomprehension.

For Goodbye, Columbus, however, the issue was ABC censorship, as those frozen scenes involved the lead characters—played by Richard Benjamin and Ali MacGraw—indulging in pre-marital sex and some rather PG-13-ish nudity (Benjamin's, actually). It made me read the book (which didn't explain what was going on but gave me more depth into the characters) and started my appreciation of the work of Philip Roth and I proceeded to binge his books like they were a tube of Oreo's.

This is one of the shots ABC censored

MacGraw was a big star at the time (but not at the time this movie was released) and Paramount was the King of Hollywood with The Godfather and Love Story being popular and critic-approved and it marshaled in the very good movie decade of the 1970's with some seriously good fare. Goodbye, Columbus did well for its time and it was MacGraw's very brush with stardom after modeling and her performance here is actually quite good and vulnerable, but Benjamin has the true actor honors in this one, with a good turn by Jack Klugman, as well.

This is another...personally, they're SFW

Goodbye, Columbus takes place over six months in New York as Neil Klugman (Benjamin—and no relation to Jack...), mid-20's and slightly adrift after graduating from college (English lit. major) and a military stint has taken a job at the New York Public Library (I'm going over the film scenario, not the novella as novella-Neil lives and works in Newark, New Jersey). Taking advantage of cousin Doris' membership at Old Oaks Country Club (Purchase, New York), Neil's life changes despite the non-New York-based pleasures of sun-bathing, swimming and scanning swim-suited bodies in the sunshine. It's a privilege for Neal to be among the privileged, and has no idea that he will be beguiled by the simplest of siren's songs—"Would you hold my glasses, please?"

The inquiry is made by Brenda Patimkin (MacGraw), who then jumps into the pool, while being bird-dogged by Neil, who is then swept away from him by a large male, who tell her it's time to go, takes her hand and accompanies her from the club. Neil finds out who she is (and, subsequently, that the guy who took her from is her brother) and he becomes obsessed with meeting her again and pursuing her. He gets her number and they have a meeting after her tennis match with a friend. And the next day, Neil gets invited to the country club as Brenda's guest.

Love blooms. Dates happen. Music-backed montages ensue (music by Charles Fox in his chirpy "Love, America-Style" mode). Brenda and Neil become a "thing." He gets invited to the Patimkins for dinner ("He eats like a bird!"). Dad Ben (Klugman—Jack) has a plumbing supply business that is doing very well, which is what has propelled the Patimkins into the lifestyle to which they become accustomed, but have not always enjoyed. Mother Patimkin (Nan Martin) is cordial, but a bit cold, especially given Neil's job—he's been at the Library for a year! But, Dad isn't concerned—"Leave her alone, she'll get tired of him."

He's so unconcerned that, at Brenda's request, Neil is allowed to stay with the Patimkins for a couple weeks, while the family is preoccupied with brother Ron's upcoming wedding. Mom is absolutely against the idea—she and Brenda have their mom-daughter conflicts and she's seen as spoiled. But, for Dad, things are going great and the kids are great, so why not? Brenda has Ben wrapped around her finger and so, Mom's concerns aside, Neil is welcomed. To a point.

For the lovers, this is a opportunity to take advantage of. They start to regularly sleep together under the Patimkins' collective noses. But, the differences between the two become apparent leading to conflict—Neil insists on some sort of birth control (for her, of course), while Brenda prefers nothing. In the novella written in the late 1950's, there was no "pill" but screenwriter Arnold Schulman takes care of the issue by having Brenda say that it makes her bloat "plus, you keep reading something bad about it everyday" (nice deflection that people could identify with and works well with her "princess" personality).

It's one of the areas where Schulman's updating for the fruging 60's works. No mention is made of Vietnam regarding Neil's military service, and the screenplay goes out of its way to stress the "generation gap" between the kids and the parents, sometimes uncomfortably so. One grating area is when Neil visits Ben at his company and the older man states that you need a little "gonif" to survive in business ("You know what that means, 'gonif?'" "Thief"). In the novella, that plays out with a mutual understanding of the ways of the world, but in the film, Ben then goes off on a bitter, deprecating "you kids, you think you have it so easy" speech that comes out of left field.

This little aberration from the novella's text—and intent—as well as the insistence to show the older generation in the worst satirical light (and given that everybody is Jewish gives a further suspicion of "prejudice" or "snobbery"—to be kind) makes one suspicious that the idea was not to follow Roth's work, but to present a box-office cousin to the previous year's The Graduate, with the cross-cutting dance sequences with fast-zooms (which don't communicate anything other than "this is frenetic, man" as opposed to picking out something in the wide shot or creating an emotional "realization" shot) and an exploitable soundtrack featuring a pop-group.

The soundtrack to The Graduate (featuring Simon and Garfunkle) was a best-seller, but I don't think anybody remembers—or bought—the soundtrack to Goodbye, Columbus, featuring The Association, a "safe" easy-listening vocal group (akin to the Four Freshmen) 180 degrees in opposition to the folk-rock harmonies of S&G, their only similarity being both groups played the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. Where S&G voiced the angst of a generation, The Association could have played the Patimkin wedding, so unoffensive and mainstream was their music. Actually, the way Peerce goes over-the-top in the staging of thewedding sequence, unoffenisve might not be what they'd be going after.

My view of Goodbye, Columbus has changed over the years—actually it changed quite quickly after I saw the whole movie, given the reading of Roth's original story. What Roth was going for was a comment on assimilation and how the gentrification of class destroys common threads in people no matter how tightly bound. And he couched this in a love story—but is it really?—where privilege breaks down with the danger of losing it. I've always loved the final argument between Brenda and Neil that dances around the basic point that he's not a good match for her, given his lack of ambition, and the parental pressures put on her so that she can maintain her privilege. Princesses do not marry below their stature. It is just not done. But, that is never said. It all revolves around circumstantial evidence and past sins and is straight out of Roth. Summer love cannot stand the Winter chill. 

But, Benjamin is great in it, and he would become tagged as the actor to go to when portraying a Roth character. But, I was dissatisfied enough to want to see another adaptation that was more like the original story, maybe a period piece set in the late 1950's as it was written—its own thing and not a knock-off of passing trends.

MacGraw and Benjamin, already facing the other way.

* Wikipedia calls them "a sunshine-pop band from California." So, naturally that works for a movie set in New York. I don't think Paramount was so inspired by The Graduate that they said "Hey, The Graduate was set in California and used a duo out of New York! Let's use the same geographical inappropriateness!" They just wanted to sell records.

Cry Terror!

Cry Terror! (Andrew L. Stone, 1958) Bottom of the barrel thriller that plays like a pulp novel in broad daylight, played by a cast so talented you wonder why they agreed to do it in the first place. 

One could look at the film as a metaphor of the vulnerability of the supposedly "normal" 1950's family and how it could be up-ended by outside forces beyond their control—or even their comprehension, which might put it in the same fragile vein as Hitchcock, but, there the similarity ends. Cry Terror! has more in common with a low-budget film-noir, but without the artistic pretensions or deftly planned chiaroscuro lighting. It has all the nuance of a random bludgeoning and appears to be just as well-planned. There is some irony here as the caper that encompasses Cry Terror! is a clockwork-precise extortion plot conceived down to the last detail.

Jim Molner (James Mason) is an ordinary television and electronics repairman with an extensive background that he picked up in the Armed Forces. He is appalled to see on the local news (reported by Chet Huntley and Roy Neal) that an airline is being extorted for $500,000 by parties unknown...and then something begins to click. Or tick, rather. He recently designed a specific timer for a client named Paul Hoplin, who had certain specifications in mind, and he begins to wonder if he actually had designed a bomb for the man.

The FBI (in the form of Kenneth Tobey, Jack Kruschen, William Schallert and Barney Phillips) meet with airline executives who tell them of receiving threats and untraceable phone calls from a terrorist threatening to blow up a plane. The exec's think it's all a bluff and refuse to pay, but the agents convince them to play along with the caller to prevent loss of life. They investigate and await any communication about demands.

"This is Roy Neal, stealing ideas from Donald Trump from 'way back in 1958."

Molner goes home early and finds that his Joan (Inger Stevens) is entertaining an old friend of his—Paul Hoplin (Rod Steiger), who, as soon as Molner shows up, reveals his true colors. They're going to wait for the Molner's daughter to come home from school. When she does, the whole big happy family is going to be kidnapped and held hostage, with one of them to be set up as the person who picks up the ransom money from the airline. If the money isn't received by a certain time, the whole family will be killed and he flees the country. 

Neat. Tidy. Untraceable. 

Hoplin is damaged goods. A genius in his own mind, he doesn't take to having his demands argued with, or having his intelligence questioned. His dream is to be alone in his own little world and has the scruples of a snake in order to accomplish it. Fortunately, he has minions who'll do his bidding, even if only one of them has a last name. That would Eileen Kelly (Angie Dickinson), who, along with pervert psycho Steve (Neville Brand) and "Vince"—"a thug"— (Jack Klugman)are not the best of goon squads. There's lots of talk of "shiv's" and "drugs" but, fact is, even for the Eisenhower 1950's, these toughs are wearing ties!

Tough guys looking like your teachers at school

 

Cry Terror! straddles the fence between "the good guy" investigators who are straight out of "Dragnet" and the "bad guys" who are theatrical and "method" leaving the sympathies with the victims, the Molners, who are split up—Dad and child held prisoner in a posh New York penthouse downtown and Mom who has to run all over town playing "beat the clock" and picking up and delivering the ransom in order to save the family. At the same time, director Stone follows her through real locations, while the rest of the movie plays out on sound-stages.

What is most interesting is that this boils down to a "woman in peril" movie, but the women, whether its Dickinson's ferociously focused moll or Stevenson's more-than-capable housewife, are the strongest ones in the movie, despite the father's acrobatics in an elevator shaft in a desperate move to escape. Stevenson's Mrs. Molner starts out trembling and wide-eyed, but finds herself frantically carrying out the bad guys demands, while fending off all distractions, including officious police, snarled traffic, and the frothing sex maniac left in charge with guarding her once the ransom's been dropped off. She proves more than capable, despite being placed in a nightmare situation around every corner.

Cry Terror! is no one's idea of a good movie. Despite the attempts to ground it in police procedural staidness, there are so many hysterical twists and turns that suspension of disbelief is almost impossible. But, one can't stop watching for the zany pulpishness of the thing. Eventually one has to ask the one burning question:

Why are so many good actors, accomplished actors in this thing?