SEPARATE TABLES

Rita Hayworth and Burt Lancaster

SEPARATE TABLES (1958). Director: Delbert Mann.

"I have no curiosity about the working classes." -- Mrs. Railton-Bell.

"Being alone in a crowd -- it's so painful ... frightening." -- Ann Shankland.

At the seaside Beauregard Hotel in Bournemouth, England -- where several people are permanent residents -- certain little dramas are unfolding. The highly snobbish Mrs. Railton-Bell (Gladys Cooper) has discovered the inappropriate behavior of Major Angus Pollock (David Niven), who has bored everyone with fictional stories of his allegedly heroic wartime exploits. Mrs. R-B gathers the other residents to vote on whether or not to insist that the man be thrown out of the hotel. Mrs. R-B's neurotically shy daughter, Sibyl (Deborah Kerr), who is exceptionally fond of the major, undergoes an emotional crisis when she learns of his illicit activities. Meanwhile, the proprietress, Pat Cooper (Wendy Hiller), who has become the lover of American resident John Malcolm (Burt Lancaster), discovers that his ex-wife, Ann (Rita Hayworth) is still in love with him and has taken a room in the hotel.   

David Niven and Deborah Kerr

Separate Tables was originally two plays by Terence Rattigan, sharing several supporting characters, that took place in the same location and were presented together on one evening in the theater, Although Rattigan was importuned to change this before the play debuted, the Major was originally a closeted homosexual and not a pervert who bothered women in a movie theater. (Although the movie is quite sympathetic to the major, it's a question how this would play in these post- MeToo days.) 

Separate tables indeed

The two plays have been intelligently put together and opened up (but not too much) and the film never appears stage bound or too talky, undoubtedly because Rattigan's dialogue is often excellent and perceptive. David Niven won a Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal and Deborah Kerr, who is outstanding, should have won but was only nominated. (Niven is quite good but a cut below Kerr. Hiller won Best Supporting Actress but was surprised by this, as she isn't onscreen very long and complained that her best scenes were cut.) Playing a comparatively superficial if vulnerable character, Rita Hayworth is effective as Ann, as is Burt Lancaster, although he really can't compare to some of these venerable British actors. Gladys Cooper and Cathleen Nesbitt as her friend are exemplary, as are Hiller, Felix Aylmer as Mr. Fowler, and Mary Hallatt as the brisk and self-sufficient Miss Meacham. Rod Taylor and Audrey Dalton have the thankless roles of a young couple temporarily staying in the hotel, their lines undoubtedly cut back to make room for the emoting of Hayworth and Lancaster.  Delbert Mann also directed the beautiful Middle of the Night and many others. 

Verdict: Superior British drama with some excellent performances. ***1/4. 

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

Fredric March and Kim Novak

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT (1959). Director: Delbert Mann.

"A small bubble of middle-aged sanity has been punctured."

56-year-old Jerry Kingsley (Fredric March, who was actually in his sixties) is a widower in the garment business who consoles Betty (Kim Novak), a woman who works for him one evening, and then finds himself falling for her. She agrees to date him but tells him bluntly that she could never love a man old enough to be her father. Or could she? Both Kingsley's and Betty's families are horrified when they learn that the two are engaged.  

Novak and March

Although this adaptation of the play by Paddy Chayefsky (who also did the screenplay) got mixed reviews at the time of its release, it emerges as an excellent, trenchant and uncompromising study of the relationship between a woman in her twenties and a man in his fifties. It's interesting that the film never comes off as mere wish-fulfillment fantasy for middle-aged men, being on a much higher level. March offers a superb performance that never once hits a false note. Although not on March's level of consummate ability, Novak is nevertheless quite good and appealing as Betty. Edith Meiser, Lee Grant, Glenda Farrell (as Betty's mother), Joan Copeland and Martin Balsam are all on target in their respective roles, and Albert Dekker offers the performance of a lifetime as Walter Lockman, the salesman with the big talk who poignantly pours out his lonely heart to March when he learns the latter plans to marry. The film is full of wonderful and true observations about what it means to get old in our society. As Jerry says to Betty, "I'm scared of things you wouldn't understand because you're just a kid." Chayefsky's dialogue and characterizations are top of the line. Ultimately the movie is about seeking out and holding on to life-affirming experiences no matter what your age. "You can have peace when you're dead," says Jerry. Amen to that!

Verdict: Just beautiful. ****.

WHAT MAKES SAMMY RUN?

Dina Merrill and Larry Blyden

WHAT MAKES SAMMY RUN? NBC Sunday Showcase 1959. Director: Delbert Mann.

"You're intelligent but not smart." -- Sammy to Al.

"Just the opposite of you." -- Al to Sammy.

Sammy Glick (Larry Blyden) is a copy boy for a major NYC newspaper where Al Manheim (John Forsythe) is a columnist. Sammy is going places, and at first he seems admirably full of ambition and initiative. Glick manages to get his own column, then takes a screenplay written by Julian Blumberg (Milton Selzer of Blood and Lace) and sells it to Hollywood. Sammy takes both Al and Julian to LA with him, but somehow Julian's name is left off the credits for the movie. Al realizes that Sammy has a dark side, that he treats people like supernumeraries even though they are the ones with the talent. Al watches helplessly as novelist Kit Sargent (Barbara Rush), who is now writing screenplays for Sammy, falls in love with him even though he wants her for himself. But there are surprises in store for all of these characters ...

Barbara Rush and John Forsythe

What Makes Sammy Run?  is a prime example of the "golden age" of television, where there were meaty scripts and fine actors doing exemplary work, and everyone is at their best in this. Blyden, an excellent performer who died much too early at 49, is superb as Sammy, and I don't think I've ever seen John Forsythe, Dynasty be damned, to better advantage. Barbara Rush is also excellent, as is Dina Merrill [Butterfield 8] as Laurette, the amoral daughter of studio boss H. L. Harrington (an equally good Sidney Blackmer); in fact, I don't think I've ever seen Merrill better. David Opatoshu also scores as production chief Sidney Fineman, who is pushed out in favor of Sammy. Monique van Vooren [Tarzan and the She- Devil] credibly plays a movie star who loses her appeal for Sammy once her movies start slipping at the box office. And there are a host of good character actors in supporting parts as well.

Forstyhe, Monique van Vooren, Blyden, Merrill

What Makes Sammy Run? may have lost some of its edge to certain viewers because the basic themes and characters have been used and re-used many times over the years. I can't count all the times I've seen shows about bitter, self-hating associates complaining about an essential heel (in and out of show business), and backstabbing producers and others are commonplace today both on and off the screen. This was based on a novel by Budd Schulberg, who turned it into a musical (starring Steve Lawrence) co-written by Schulberg's brother, Stuart. (This TV version does not include the songs.) Neither the novel nor the musical were ever turned into a movie, mostly because people feared it would be considered anti-Semitic because Sammy was Jewish. Back in the day Schulberg argued that most of the characters, some of whom were decent guys like Al Manheim, were also Jewish; it was a true cross-section. I have never read the novel, so I don't know if Schulberg explained part of Sammy's hunger not just on his poor tenement upbringing but as a reaction to blatant anti-Semitism -- this is not delved into at all in the TV version.

The TV production makes one major change in that it offers Sammy redemption. In the original story, Sammy is all for pushing Fineman out so that he can take his place, but in the TV show he sticks up for Fineman, tells Harrington that he, Sammy, not only owes Fineman a lot but that Fineman is the best man for the job. This doesn't help Fineman but at least Sammy makes a sincere effort. One could argue that this is out of character for Sammy.

Verdict: A classic in every sense of the word. ***1/2. 

THAT TOUCH OF MINK

Doris Day and Cary Grant

THAT TOUCH OF MINK (1962). Director: Delbert Mann.

"When a man donates $200,000, he's entitled to use the facilities."

Wealthy entrepreneur Philip Shayne (Cary Grant) is in his limousine when it splashes mud on out-of-work Cathy Timberlake (Doris Day.) Philip sends his associate, Roger (Gig Young of Hunt the Man Down) to apologize for him, but Cathy insists Philip do it himself. When she meets him, however, she is so instantly smitten that she apologizes to him. Thus begins a difficult romance in which Cathy does her best to maintain her virtue even as Philip flies her off to exotic places and wines and dines her par excellance. A series of comical misunderstandings may or may not lead to the altar ...

A date from Hell: Doris Day and John Astin

That Touch of Mink is a funny movie, greatly abetted by the performances of the two leads. One could quibble that both of them, especially Grant, are a bit too old to be dancing around this whole sex-or-no-sex business, but they make the skirmishes amusing in spite of it. John Astin is also notable as a sleazy man in the unemployment office who has a hankering for Cathy and winds up wishing that he didn't.

Although there's nothing necessarily wrong with Audrey Meadows' performance, I was somehow disappointed by it. Meadows certainly knew how to slap down a line on The Honeymooners, but maybe this part should have been essayed by Eve Arden. Laurie Mitchell, the Queen of Outer Space herself, has a bit part as a showgirl, and John Fiedler is amusing as a confused bridegroom who gets the wrong idea about his wife. That Touch of Mink is typical of many sixties comedies in that it milks some humor out of a misunderstanding over a character's sexual orientation -- in this case Roger's shrink (Alan Hewitt, who is also very good) thinks he is gay. It does lead up to a silly but nevertheless hilarious final sequence.

Verdict: Despite its dated qualities (on so many levels), this is a consistently amusing picture with extremely adept leads. ***. 

DESIRE UNDER THE ELMS

DESIRE UNDER THE ELMS (1958). Director: Delbert Mann.

An interesting and absorbing, if imperfect, screen adaptation of Eugene O'Neill's licentious play. Ephriam Cabot (Burl Ives) is a miserable old man who brings home a pretty Italian wife, Anna (Sophia Loren), who married him so she'd finally have a home of her own. At first Anna and Ephriam's son Eben (Anthony Perkins), who despises his father, fight their attraction to one another, but eventually they fall in love -- with extremely dire consequences. Ives doesn't quite dig beneath his character's surface bluster, and Loren, while good, feisty and credible in her early scenes, isn't quite up to the much more difficult moments later on. Perkins gives the best performance in the film as the troubled, determined and tormented Eben. Pernell Roberts and Frank Overton are fine as Eben's half-brothers, and Rebecca Welles -- and especially Jean Willes -- offer spirited performances as their wives. Anne Seymour has some good moments at the opening as Eben's mother, who's determined that the land -- which originally was hers -- will someday belong to her son. Well photographed by Daniel L. Fapp and with a fine score by Elmer Bernstein.

Verdict: Passionate if flawed. ***.