HOT SPELL

Shirley MacLaine and Shirley Booth

HOT SPELL (1958). Director: Daniel Mann.

Housewife Alma Duval (Shirley Booth) is hoping that the 45th birthday celebration for her beloved husband, John (Anthony Quinn), will be a memorable occasion, but things are brewing that may make that impossible. John is very unhappy with his life and has taken on a lover who is decades younger than he is. Oldest son Buddy (Earl Holliman) feels that his dad doesn't take him seriously and is always putting him down. Daughter Virginia (Shirley MacLaine) is in love with aspiring doctor, Wyatt (Warren Stevens), but is only headed for heartbreak. And youngest son Billy (Clint Kimbrough) is uncertain about himself and unable to understand his father's unhappiness. Based on a play, Hot Spell is a thoughtful and beautifully-acted drama that looks at the ins and outs of marriage and family life with compassion and perception. Heading a terrific cast is a splendid Booth [About Mrs. Leslie], who must contend with her children's problems even as her own marriage, and her dreams of a happier future (tied to a home they lived in many years before), begin to crumble. Quinn is also superb, adding dimension and sympathy to what could have been an odious character in some ways, with fine work from Holliman [The Big Combo] and MacLaine (especially the latter). Kimbrough was an attractive and sensitive young actor who should have had many more credits than the twenty he amassed. Eileen Heckart [The Bad Seed] also appears as Alma's friend, Fran, and is also very good, as expected. One could argue that the movie is resolved a little too neatly, but it is generally quite effective and at times very poignant.

Verdict: A lost gem. ***1/2.

POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE

Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine

POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE (1990). Director: Mike Nichols.

Sent into rehab after a nearly fatal overdose, actress Suzanne Vale (Meryl Streep) is told that the insurance company will only allow her to make her next picture if she moves in her with mother, star Doris Mann (Shirley MacLaine), who is an alcoholic! Suzanne and her mother have a loving but difficult relationship with the latter wanting success for her daughter despite the occasional bout of jealousy, and the former bridling against her mother's perpetual, well-meaning "advice.".Based on a semi-autobiographical novel by Carrie Fisher, the daughter of Debbie Reynolds, this is obviously about the two actresses, although it could just as easily be about the real Shirley MacLaine and her daughter, Sachi Parker (not to suggest that Parker was ever in rehab).The two leading ladies are both excellent, perhaps making their characters more sympathetic than they might have been in real life, Dennis Quaid is notable as a man who (seemingly) gets involved with Suzanne, and there's a nice bit from Annette Bening as another of his girlfriends. It's delightful to see Mary Wickes as the grandmother, whose relationship with Doris is as problematic as Doris' with Suzanne. Michael Ontkean [Making Love] is seen all too briefly as Suzanne's co-star in the cop thriller she's making. Rob Reiner, Gene Hackman [The Firm], and Richard Dreyfuss [Piranha] are all effective in important character parts. The musical highlights of this very entertaining movie include MacLaine nailing "I'm Still Here" from Follies, and Streep doing a snappy rendition of "Heartbreak Hotel" for the finale.

Verdict: Mothers and daughters, neurotic Hollywood-style. ***.

THE YELLOW ROLLS ROYCE

Alain Delon and Shirley MacLaine

THE YELLOW ROLLS ROYCE (1964). Director: Anthony Asquith. Screenplay by Terence Rattigan

"Oh, God. How I'm going to hate living from now on."

This is a trio of tales loosely tied to the same beautiful title automobile -- copulation occurs in the back seat of the rolls in each story, but even that doesn't make this picture entertaining. Surely a movie built around such a premise could have turned out better than this, but it's as if playwright Rattigan [The Browning Version] decided to throw together scrips and scraps from his discarded idea book to come up with this mess. The first story, starring Rex Harrison [My Fair Lady] as a member of the Foreign Office, is easily the best, and even manages to be somewhat moving in its tale of Harrison being cuckolded by his wife (Jeanne Moreau) and her lover (Edmund Purdom), who works with Harrison, on the day he should be happiest. The second and worst story has to do with a gangster (George C. Scott) traveling in Italy with his moll (Shirley MacLaine) who encounter a handsome man (Alain Delon) who makes tips selling photos to tourists; you can guess what happens. This exercise in tedium can't even be saved by the actors (including Art Carney as Scott's Man Friday) and has a flat wind up to boot. Delon and MacLaine have little chemistry. The third and last story is a contrived bit of business in which a fussy and wealthy woman (Ingrid Bergman) agrees to take a Yugoslav (Omar Sharif) across the border to aid his king and country just as the Germans are attacking. This termagant has more intestinal fortitude than anyone would ever have imagined, but her romance with Sharif is unconvincing, to say the least. (It would have been even less convincing had the more appropriate Katharine Hepburn been cast, as one critic suggested). Bergman is miscast, Scott [The Exorcist III] is excellent as the mobster, Delon succeeds at being charming, Moreau is creditable, and Harrison, with that stiff British upper lip, underplays quite satisfactorily. The best performance, however, is given by a winning and credible Sharif.

Verdict: The first episode is good, but the last two make two hours seem like ten. *1/2.

LUCKY ME: MY LIFE WITH -- AND WITHOUT -- MY MOM, SHIRLEY MACLAINE

LUCKY ME: MY LIFE WITH -- AND WITHOUT -- MY MOM, SHIRLEY MACLAINE. Sachi Parker with Frederick Stroppel. Gotham; 2013.

It isn't easy for children of celebrities, especially if they have similar ambitions, to be in the shadow of self-absorbed parents. Of course, some of these children feel entitled to enjoy their parents' connections and money, and this is certainly true of Sachi Parker, who has no problem with nepotism. Still, as the daughter of a wealthy movie star -- if we're to believe this account -- she received only sporadic attention, conditional love, and little support, financial or otherwise. Some driven movie stars become extremely protective of their territory to the point of almost becoming jealous of their talented offspring.

Then we have Sachi's father, an incredible scam artist and borderline child molester. Sachi writes about how her possibly pansexual father would climb in bed with her and act not at all in a fatherly fashion, and would squeeze her buttocks while dancing with her after she was grown. She witnessed him ruthlessly beating his mistress. Yet later in the book she is anxious for this creep to meet his grand-children! Why? You'd think she would keep them as far away from him as possible. It's these inconsistencies that make you realize that much of Lucky Me has to be taken with a grain of salt.

As in her life, Sachi Parker is clearly anxious with this book to establish herself as "somebody." hence I believe many of the anecdotes in this book are highly exaggerated or even fictionalized. If you look at Lucky Me as a semi-autobiographical novel it makes a little more sense. The book begins with Sachi learning that her mother has something to tell her that will finally make it clear why she was raised in Japan far from Shirley MacLaine. (Sachi's mother and father remained married for decades, but lived in separate countries and maintained an open relationship -- husband Steve Parker had a Japanese mistress as well.) Three quarters of the way through the book you learn what the big secret is and it's one of the most hilarious things I've ever read. I've never thought of MacLaine, talented though she may be, as having too much upstairs, but, honestly, she must be as dumb as a bucket of rocks! While the book maintains interest in the final quarter, it loses some steam, recounting Sachi's acting efforts and film/stage appearances.

So what are we to make of this? Did Sachi Parker have the misfortune of having two of the worst parents who ever lived? Did MacLaine have virtually no maternal instincts? Are she and brother Warren Beatty cut from the same cloth of ruthless ambition in which no one else ever really seems to matter? Or is the disinherited Sachi just another Christina Crawford, hating her mother for not handing her a successful career, fame, and riches on a silver platter? You can judge for yourself. But one thing that has to be said is that for much of its length Lucky Me is an absorbing and highly amusing read, and that the book is very well-written by co-auhor Frederick Stroppel. Her long story involving flatulence on a movie set could have been left out, however.

Verdict: Weird, suspect at times, but undeniably fascinating. ***1/2.

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR

Shirley MacLaine and Audrey Hepburn

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR (1961). Producer/director: William Wyler. Note: some plot points are revealed in this review.

William Wyler had already directed These Three, a sanitized film version of Lillian Hellman's play The Children's Hour, when he decided it was time to tackle the play and its sub-theme head on. Karen Wright (Audrey Hepburn) and Martha Dobie (Shirley MacLaine) co-own a young girls' boarding school in a small but wealthy community. Karen has held off her marriage to Joe Cardin (James Garner of They Only Kill Their Masters) because she wants to make sure the school is a success before she leaves. With the unwitting aid of Karen's miserable Aunt Lily (Miriam Hopkins), a hateful child named Mary (Karen Balkin) tells a malicious lie about the two women. Her grandmother, Amelia Tilford (Fay Bainter), believes the lie and spreads it around that Karen and Martha are lovers, with the result that all of the parents take their daughters out of school. Does Martha have deeper feelings for Karen than she wants to admit? Hellman's play was certainly ahead of its time, and some of the dialogue that may have seemed "politically correct" in the sixties was actually already in the play, produced about thirty years earlier. Martha goes on about people "who believe in it, who want it, who've chosen it for themselves," but this is something she just can't do. (Of course today it's more accurate to say gay people choose to accept themselves.) The dated, but not unrealistic for the period, line is Martha saying "I feel so sick and dirty I just can't stand it anymore," which is roughly equivalent to "Show me a happy homosexual and I'll show you a gay corpse" from The Boys in the Band. However, I've never felt Children's Hour was as offensive as Boys, because the latter is a mostly negative depiction of acknowledged gay characters while the former not only looks at the devastating results of gossip and innuendo but functions, whether intended or not, as a trenchant study of both external and internalized homophobia. These women's lives are ruined simply because people think they're lesbians, a revelation which Martha only acknowledges at the very end. The suicide in the film may strike modern-viewers as horribly dated but it's also quite moving, as is the conflicted character of Martha. John Michael Hayes' [Rear Window] script is excellent, William Wyler's direction is sensitive and splendid, and the acting from virtually the entire cast is simply incredible. Hepburn and MacLaine are perfection, Bainter and Hopkins come close to stealing the show, James Garner (whom I've never much cared for) gives probably the best performance of his career, and the little girls, including Veronica Cartwright as Rosalie, are so good it's almost scary. Add a lovely score by Alex North, fine cinematography by Franz Planer (who also shot Wyler's The Big Country), and expert editing from Robert Swink and you've got a near-masterpiece.

Verdict: Whatever its flaws, this picture plays. ***1/2.

BEING THERE

Peter Sellers

BEING THERE (1979). Director: Hal Ashby.

"Nobody likes a dying man, Chance, because nobody knows what death is."

"You always gonna be a little boy, ain't ya?"

"It's a white man's world in America for sure" -- Louise, the black maid, after she sees Chance on TV. 

Based on a novel by Jerzy Kosinski, this is the story of the simple-minded gardener Chance (Peter Sellers), who has to move out of the house where he worked after his elderly employer dies. By chance -- no pun intended -- his is hit by a limo, injures his leg, and is taken in by the very wealthy Eve Rand (Shirley MacLaine) and her ill, much older husband, Ben (Melvyn Douglas) who is friends with the President (Jack Warden). Before long Chance is "advising" the leader of the free world on policy, even though he really has no idea what he's talking about and can only relate everything to a garden. Instead of recognizing that Chance is mentally challenged, everyone thinks he's the height of profundity and he winds up on TV and being toasted by the media and intelligentsia. In this variation of Hans Christian Anderson's "The Emperor's New Clothes" -- which essentially said the same thing with more economy -- Ashby skewers the stupidity and superficiality of the rich, powerful, political, and influential, although one has to suspend disbelief that no one he meets after leaving his home seems to get that Chance is, well, just plain stupid. Sellers is fine, although he isn't really given the opportunity to go wild as he does in the Inspector Clouseau films. MacLaine and Douglas are marvelous, and there are notable supporting performances from Jack Warden, Richard Dysart as Ben's doctor, and Ruth Attaway as the maid, Louise, among others. As for the ending -- everyone can make up their own mind what that's about.

Verdict: Absorbing and sadly amusing satire. ***.

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.