THE FORTUNE COOKIE

THE FORTUNE COOKIE (1966). Produced and directed by Billy Wilder.   

When cameraman Harry Hinkle (Jack Lemmon) is knocked over by Cleveland Braves player Boom Boom Jackson (Ron Rich) during a football game, his brother-in-law, Whiplash Willie (Walter Matthau), importunes him to pretend his injuries are far worse than they really are for a huge cash payout. At first Harry is appalled by the very suggestion, but when Willie intimates that Harry's ex-wife, Sandy (Judi West), may come back to him out of sympathy, he agrees. Meanwhile a very guilty Boom Boom, who practically becomes Harry's servant, finds his own life spiraling out of control. Yet Harry's essential humanity may put paid to Willie's audacious and avaricious plan.

The Fortune Cookie is an excellent comedy-drama which begins as an amusing dark farce and midway turns a bit more serious. The performances are superb, with Matthau master of all he surveys, Lemmon on target throughout, Ron Rich sympathetic and appealing, and Judi West, introduced in this picture, scoring as Harry's ex, a singer who dreams of a shot at the big time in New York's Persian Room. Cliff Osmond also makes an impression as private eye, Purkey, although Lurene Tuttle overdoes it a bit as Harry's hysterical mother. There are other good character actors in the cast such as Les Tremayne. Although highly exaggerated, the characters come off more or less as real people, although many of the situations are not realistic and are not meant to be. I won't give anything away, but the ending strikes a blow for Civil Rights in a way that is unusual for a sixties movie (although one might wonder how anyone could be certain of Harry's reaction). Handsome and talented, this was the first big role for Rich, but he had only a few credits after this. Similarly, Judi West, who actually had a couple of TV credits before this film, had only a few subsequent credits as well. Joseph LaShelle's cinematography is first-rate.

Verdict: Imperfect at times, but a very entertaining black comedy with outstanding performances. ***1/2.                                                             

THE LOST WEEKEND

Belly up to the bar, boys! Ray Milland

THE LOST WEEKEND (1945). Director: Billy Wilder.

Feeling himself a failure as a writer, and living off his brother, Wick (Phillip Terry of Hold That Kiss), Don Birnam (Ray Milland) has become, in his brother's words, a "hopeless drunk" His girlfriend of three years, Helen (Jane Wyman of Johnny Belinda), refuses to give up on Don, and does her best to help him. But even when he winds up in an alcoholic ward and later gets the DT's and has scary visions, he still won't stop drinking. Will Helen be able to get through to him, to get him to let his better self come through, or is he doomed?

The Lost Weekend is based on the autobiographical novel by Charles Jackson. Although Jackson married and had children, late in life he identified as bisexual and moved in with a male lover. This aspect of his life, and the fact that self-hatred over his homosexuality added to his distress and undoubtedly contributed to his drinking, is, of course, completely unexplored in this 1940's movie. The only thing that is mildly homoerotic in the picture is an obnoxious male nurse, Bim (well-played by Frank Faylen), in the alcoholic ward. Jackson wrote other works after Lost Weekend, but none were ever as successful as his first, and, although the movie intimates that Birnam will overcome his addictions, that was, sadly, not the case in real life. In 1968 he committed suicide.

Phillip Terry, Jane Wyman, Ray Milland

Still, The Lost Weekend is a memorable film with some first-class performances. Ray Milland, who is generally excellent, won the Best Actor Oscar. (The film also won for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay [Wilder and Charles Brackett] and Best Cinematography [John F. Seitz of the silent Four Horseman of the Apocalypse].) Phillip Terry, one of Joan Crawford's cast-off husbands, had a rare opportunity in a "A" picture and delivers a solid job in probably his most memorable role. Jane Wyman is as sympathetic and adept as ever. Howard Da Silva scores as the bartender, Nat, as do Doris Dowling as the barfly Gloria and Mary Young as Birnam's landlady, Mrs. Deveridge.

An interesting aspect of the picture is that, as played by Milland, Birnam often seems arrogant about his drinking and his life, as if the world owes him a living. In a sequence when Birnam steals a woman's purse in a restaurant, he seems to smirk as if he's gotten away with something, as opposed to his being ashamed and humiliated by his actions. This suggests that Birnam has character failings that have little to do with his drinking.

Jane Wyman

The film has some notable sequences, such as when Birnam sits at a performance of La Traviata, and the opera's famous brindisi (or drinking song) sequence only reminds him of the bottle of hootch he left in his jacket at the coat check and he has to leave to get a drink. Then there's his desperate run from pawn shop to pawn shop so he can get money for his typewriter only to learn that all the shops are closed for the Jewish holiday.

As good as the film is, it now has a kind of dated aspect to it. All you have to do is look at one of the episodes of Dr. Phil where he has desperate family members bringing an alcoholic and drug-addicted person on the show for a last chance at help, to realize that a person rarely just decides to stop drinking. The film is sanitized -- what seems horrifying about the debased, pathetic lives of drunks in this film is nothing compared to the reality. As good as Milland is, he rarely looks or acts like a really hard-core drunk despite the DT's and all the rest. As noted, the photography is first-class, as is Miklos Rosza's score, although the music the composer uses to denote, so to speak, "Demon Rum," is a little over the top and sounds like something out of a science fiction movie.

Verdict: The Lost Weekend must still be remembered as probably the first movie to depict alcoholics not as comical drunks but as tormented and addicted individuals. *** 

JACK LEMMON

JACK LEMMON. Michael Freedland. St. Martin's; 1985.

This overview of Lemmon's life and career is a fast read which gives most of the facts and highlights without digging too deeply, but it does manage to get across Lemmon's character, his devotion to acting, and his approach to certain challenging roles, such as in Some Like It Hot and Days of Wine and Roses. The book briefly discusses his first marriage, then his relationship with actress Felecia Farr, which led into his second, long-lasting marriage which was not without its problems, although this book downplays them considerably. His film work is certainly not ignored, and the book explores his working and friendly relationships with director Billy Wilder and actor Walter Matthau, with whom he collaborated numerous times. Along the way Lemmon did television and stage work, but his most frequent appearances were in films. He appeared in such early works as Betty Grable's penultimate film Three for the Show, the dreadful It Should Happen to You, and the vastly over-rated The Apartment. Frankly Lemmon was guilty of shameless mugging in some of his films, such as Luv, but he developed into a fine dramatic actor in such movies as The China Syndrome, Missing and Save the Tiger, for which he won a Best Actor Oscar (he had won a supporting Oscar for Mr. Roberts). Published in 1985, this book doesn't go into his later major triumphs in Glengarry Glen Ross and in the stage and TV adaptations of Long Day's Journey Into Night.

Verdict: A nice book on Jack Lemmon, but hardly the last word. ***.  

STALAG 17

William Holden and Peter Graves

STALAG 17 (1953). Director: Billy Wilder.

In a WW2 German POW camp, Sefton (William Holden) is a slick, callous wise guy who makes money anyway he can, whether it's from his fellow officers or from the German guards. When two hopeful escapees are discovered and shot, the other men suspect that someone in the barracks is feeding information to the buffoonish Schulz (Sig Ruman). The main suspect is Sefton, his accusers including the Security man, Price (Peter Graves); the barracks chief. Hoffman (Richard Erdman); blustery Duke (Neville Brand); and the two camp clowns, Shapiro (Harvey Lembeck) and "Animal" (Robert Strauss); among others. When it is clear that the Germans, represented by Commander Sherbach (Otto Preminger), intend to kill newcomer Lt. Dunbar (Don Taylor), who led a successful anti-German bombing raid, the group try to figure out a way to spirit him out of the camp without the quisling's knowledge. But is Sefton really the traitor? Stalag 17 might have made a great picture if there wasn't such insistence on catering to popular tastes and making a "feel good" movie about a Prisoner of War camp. No one expects Italian neo-realistic grimness in a Hollywood movie, but the comedy relief -- especially as it pertains to the bumbling and irritating Shapiro and Animal --  at times threatens to overwhelm everything else, as if it's a sitcom -- in fact, this movie with its cartoon Nazis was undoubtedly the inspiration for the series Hogan's Heroes, which even included a fumbling "Schulz". It's too bad, because the more serious aspects of the film are generally well-done. Holden gives his usual competent once-removed performance, and Graves [Beginning of the End] and Erdman [Cry Danger] and some of the others are fine, but Neville Brand is especially notable and dynamic as Duke. Holden won a Best Actor Oscar that he didn't really deserve, as it was well within his range and nothing at all special. Wilder and Strauss [September Storm] were nominated, but Brand should have been. The men in the camp talk about Betty Grable, but not once does anyone mention or even seem to think of wives and other loved ones back home aside from a brief scene when the POWs receive mail -- including letters from the finance company (!) -- from the States. [Apparently the Red Cross helped ship U.S. mail to Germany via neutral Sweden, but letters from the finance company are doubtful!] The film even tries to milk humor out of a throwaway scene when a prisoner realizes his wife is pregnant by another man but can't face up to it. (Trying not to over-sentimentalize, the movie goes to the other extreme.) There's a charming scene when the men all dance together in the absence of women.

Verdict: German POW camps as filtered through superficial Hollywood. **1/2.

LOVE IN THE AFTERNOON

Audrey Hepburn and Gary Cooper

LOVE IN THE AFTERNOON (1957). Director: Billy Wilder.

Ariane (Audrey Hepburn), the daughter of a private detective, Chavasse (Maurice Chevalier), saves a playboy, Frank Flannagan (Gary Cooper), that her father has been tracking, from a jealous husband (John McGiver). Ariane and Frank eventually begin seeing each other, and she tries to make him jealous by reciting all of the mythical men she has been with before (even though she's hardly old enough to have had so many affairs). Wanting to know the truth about Ariane, and not knowing her true identity, he hires her own father to find out more about her. Said to be Wilder's tribute to Ernst Lubitsch, this lacks the "Lubitsch Touch" and is rather slow at times. If it was meant to be a screwball comedy it doesn't work on that level, and the characters are too one-dimensional to make them really interesting. The whole bit with the aging playboy who finally finds the right girl is as old as "The Affairs of Anatol" and then some, and the whole movie has a distinctly old-fashioned quality even for the fifties. A big problem is that Hepburn [The Children's Hour] was 28 but looks ten years younger, and Cooper was 56 but (due to illness) looks ten years older -- Cooper is given only two closeups and they are not good --  so it looks as if Ariane is in love with a man old enough to be her grandfather. Exploring the sexuality of senior citizens is a perfectly worthwhile project, but Flannagan is not supposed to be as old as he looks, and he would come off much better with a more age-appropriate female on his arm. A bigger problem is not the age difference, but that Flannagan is a bit of a pig, even a vulgarian, making the allegedly "happy" ending more tragic than anything else. He is also an uncultured nincompoop (a la Donald Trump) who acts like an eight-year-old during the gorgeous overture of Tristan and Isolde in the opera house, another example of someone who has lots of money but absolutely no taste. The film never explores the reality that Flannagan's millions and ostentatious lifestyle would certainly influence Ariane's feelings toward the man. Hepburn may be bony, but she's wonderful in the movie, as are Chevalier and McGiver. Cooper does his familiar "cutesy" act but it's especially off-putting by this time; he basically just walks through the movie. Wilder directed some great movies, such as Double Indemnity and Witness for the Prosecution, but this picture hasn't aged at all well.

Verdict: Given the talent involved, this is a major disappointment. **.

FEDORA

Fedora (Marthe Keller) accepts her Oscar

FEDORA (1978). Director: Billy Wilder.

"Moral turptitude. You can have six husbands but you can't have one illegitimate child. Now you can have no husbands and six children and nobody cares."

Years ago Barry Detweiler (William Holden) once had a fling with the famous actress, Fedora (Marthe Keller). Now she's a recluse in Corfu, living on an island with an old countess (Hildegard Knef) and her doctor (Jose Ferrer of The Shrike). Detweiler, who is now a rather desperate producer, tries to use this slender, long-ago connection to the woman to coax her into coming out of retirement, especially as she looks many years younger. But Fedora's associates seem determined to keep her out of the limelight ... Fedora was pilloried by many critics when it came out primarily because it wasn't Wilder's earlier "Hollywood" picture, Sunset Boulevard, which has many similarities to Fedora (Holden stars in both movies and in each gets involved with an aging actress who is no longer in the business.) Taken on its own terms, however, Fedora is a fascinating picture, not quite a Gothic horror story, that examines image vs reality, irresponsible and tragic behavior, and in the end unravels a decidedly bizarre deception. Marthe Keller was criticized for her work in the film, but she actually gives an excellent performance, far outstripping the others, especially Holden, who seems completely listless. Mario Adorf makes an impression as the Corfu hotel manager. Miss Balfour (Frances Sternhagen of Outland), Fedora's companion,  is almost comically evil and the picture is a trifle overlong. Still, it is a worthwhile companion piece to Sunset Boulevard with its twisted and tragic story. Based on the novella from Thomas Tryon's "Crowned Heads."

Verdict: Weird old Hollywood story generally well-told. ***.

WHAT A LIFE

WHAT A LIFE (1939). Producer/director: Jay Theodore Reed.

Based on a play by Clifford Goldsmith, this film introduced the character of Henry Aldrich -- in this played by Jackie Cooper -- who appeared in several more films in the forties. High school student Henry has trouble living up to the standards set by his [unseen] father, a Princeton graduate, as he isn't doing so well academically and gets into even worse hot water when his cheating leads him to being accused of the theft of musical instruments. In the meantime fellow student Barbara (Betty Field), who has a big crush on Henry, finally gets her braces removed and after a makeover at the beauty parlor has Henry eating out of her hand -- as well as his handsome nemesis, nasty George Bigelow (James Corner). [George gets competition in nastiness from a couple of 1939-style "mean girls" who make fun of Barbara's braces.] Cooper and the others are fine, and Hedda Hopper scores as Henry's mother, as does Vaughan Glaser as the principal Mr. Bradley. Dorothy Stickney, Janice Logan and John Howard also give notable performances as some sympathetic teachers. The screenplay for this was by Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett!

Verdict: Amiable and essentially warm-hearted. ***.

THE APARTMENT

THE APARTMENT (1960) Director: Billy Wilder.

C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) hopes to advance in his insurance company by letting many of the married male executives use his apartment for illicit trysts. He has a crush on the pretty elevator operator Fran (Shirley MacLaine), who, unbeknownst to him, is involved with his boss, Jeff Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray). Lemmon muggs a bit too much, MacMurray is fine as a slick aging Lothario, MacLaine is effective as the young lady, and there are some small flavorful character performances. Some good dialogue, although the film leans towards the superficial and its characters lack dimension. Although the film won awards and certainly has its admirers, the general effect is one of tedium. It's not funny enough to be a strong comedy, and the dramatic possibilities of a woman involved with a married man have been milked for better results in countless other movies. We won't even get into the illogical moments, or the fact that the film misses real opportunities for both laughs and poignancy. It's also hard to like a movie with a lead character who for most of the film's running time is a complete door mat. Composer Adolph Deutsch's theme music is memorable, although some might say it rips off Rachmaninoff, whose music was used for Brief Encounter. Billy Wilder was inspired by a scene from that movie to make The Apartment. Incredibly this won Oscars for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Screenplay. This is a perfect example of a mediocre movie that makes a lot of money (due to its frank subject matter and the publicity it engenders), wins awards because of the publicity and money, and decades later becomes a supposed "classic."

Verdict: Watch Brief Encounter instead. Phony and predictable, this is not in its league. *1/2.

DOUBLE INDEMNITY

DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944). Director: Billy Wilder. Co-screenplay by Raymond Chandler. From a novel by James M. Cain.

Although the voice-over narration is overdone and annoying (as in Sunset Boulevard), you eventually get used to it, caught up in the mesmerizing spell of this great motion picture. Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray, in a very good performance) meets unhappy wife Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck) and before long they're conspiring to murder her husband and make it look like an accident that will pay double from Neff's insurance company because of a "double indemnity" clause. Stanwyck, in the archetypal portrait of a sultry sociopathic siren, is simply magnificent. Edward G. Robinson is also superb as Barton Keyes, the older man who works with Neff, and who investigates the death of Dietrichson. But Wilder also made smart casting decisions with the supporting cast, such as Tom Powers as the victim, Jean Heather as his daughter, and Byron Barr as her unpleasant boyfriend, Nino.

The scene when Keyes nearly sees Phyllis hiding in the corridor outside of Neff''s apartment is marvelous, although Hitchcock probably would have done more with it. And frankly it makes little sense that Neff would go into Keyes' office instead of bolting away when he sees a man outside who could identify him and blow his whole scheme to smithereens. Of course, it does lead into a suspenseful scene in Keye's office later when you wonder if the witness will recognize Neff.

The ending to the film is strangely moving. Robinson/Keyes seems coldly disgusted with Neff's actions, not willing to give him any out. Then Neff suggests that Keyes couldn't see the solution because he was too close to the perpetrator, who was, as Neff says, right across the desk. "Closer than that," says Robinson. And you realize how much Robinson loved Neff in his own way and how utterly disappointed he is in him.

Although it may or may not have been an Oscar-worthy performance, one has to say that the casting of MacMurray goes a long, long way to enabling you to feel some slight sympathy for the character he plays (although he certainly showed no pity for Dietrichson).

Verdict: A classic in every sense of the word. ****.

SUNSET BOULEVARD

"I'm ready for my close-up."

SUNSET BOULEVARD (1950). Director: Billy Wilder.

A down-on-his-luck screenwriter, Joe Gillis (William Holden), meets and moves into a mansion with silent screen star, Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson). Together the pair intend to fashion a major screenplay that will give Norma an opportunity for her comeback. But Joe eventually feels trapped by Norma and her cobwebs, and figures her project is utterly hopeless in any case. But will Norma let Joe go before she's through with him ...? So how well does Sunset Boulevard hold up after 58 years? Pretty well. Okay, maybe it's not an out and out masterpiece, but it undeniably exudes a certain fascination. If I had one problem with the movie it's that I feel there's way too much narration. Although Joe's narration is well-written, it's describing (albeit poetically) things that we can already see. Swanson gives a terrific performance (her "over-acting" at times is appropriate given the flamboyant, emotionally disturbed nature of Norma Desmond) and Holden isn't bad as Joe, although there's no doubt that the first actor cast in the part, Montgomery Clift. would have brought a lot more to the role. Better than Holden is Nancy Olsen, who gives a lovely and often passionate performance as the young lady who falls in love with him. The scene when Norma returns to her studio to see DeMille is touching. Hedda Hopper and Buster Keaton are among the more interesting bit players, as well as an uncredited Yvette Vickers of Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman and Attack of the Giant Leeches fame -- yes, that's her as the girl on the telephone during the New Year's Eve party scene. Less a drama than a weird black comedy, Sunset Boulevard always threatens to go over the top but never quite gets there.

Verdict: Certainly unique. ***.

WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION

WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION (1957) Director: Billy Wilder.

Just out of the hospital, defense lawyer Sir Wilfred Robarts (Charles Laughton) is told to take it easy, but he can't resist taking on the almost hopeless case of Leonard Vole (Tyrone Power), who has been charged with murdering the wealthy and lonely old woman Emily French (Norma Varden) who has fallen for him. Robarts isn't certain if Vole's supposed wife Christine (Marlene Dietrich) will be a help or a hindrance, but she has a few surprises up her sleeves. This movie is perfect on virtually every level, from Wilder's adroit direction to the canny, suspenseful script with its flavorful characters, and the performances of a large and splendid cast. Laughton may not have been an especially photogenic person, but his acting is so splendid that you just can't take your eyes off of him. In their scenes together, Dietrich is nearly his match. Elsa Lanchester and Una O'Connor are excellent and amusing as, respectively, Robart's scolding nurse and the murder victim's housekeeper/companion. Torin Thatcher, the villain from 7th Voyage of Sinbad and Jack the Giant Killer is riveting as the prosecutor, and Ruta Lee has a nice bit as a girl caught up in the proceedings. Tyrone Power was only 43 when he made the film -- he died the following year -- but he looks in his fifties or sixties even with the make up on. While Power may not have been in Laughton's league as an actor, he's actually a perfect choice for Vole. Henry Daniell and John Williams also score as associates of Robarts'. Norma Varden makes the most of her flashback scenes as the kind and likable Emily. Darkly amusing and absorbing, Witness for the Prosecution is a winner all the way!

Verdict: Superb! ****.