The Web
Critics took no
interest in Gordon’s first film, about an attorney who takes a brief job
as bodyguard to a millionaire with offices around the world,
John Guillermin nevertheless borrowed it for P.J.
As has been
pointed out, the killer’s motivation is “money and power”,
nothing psychological, and a New York police lieutenant with no patience for
these shenanigans wraps it up very neatly.
Cyrano de Bergerac
The Great Critic,
a man of nose, defender of the
faithful.
To rid the stage
of an ass got-up costs him “a paternal pension”, and no poetry
exists but this to tell of his virtues.
The
Perfect Poet, that is to say, everyone and no-one.
Thus the
comfortable categories into which the play divides its man amidst his
serviceable attributes, swordsman, scholar, soldier...
The gesture is a
moment in the translation, panache a
plume.
The Garutso balanced lenses on the medieval sets for a pellucid
view.
And one speaks of
inspiration. “I know I grow absurd.”
“And that
distresses me as much as if you had grown ugly.”
Variety, “an outstanding achievement”.
Bosley Crowther of the New
York Times opined “that there is a great deal of hot air in the
play”.
“Hole-in-corner”,
Halliwell’s Film Guide calls
it, more than concavely.
The
director’s genius is in complete command as the lover soars to the
beloved’s balcony and is not Cyrano, a crane shot. Ralph Clanton and
Morris Carnovsky are damned by Crowther with the
faintest of praise, not so much as a puffball.
“Why
no,” says Clanton as De Guiche, “what is it?”
To mail a letter
in wartime costs a fight to the death.
“I have
taken the liberty of—”
Pillow Talk
Michael Gordon is
a great master. No frame is wasted, the settings are neither too much nor too
little, the camera is on the actors and nothing else.
They are worked to perfection, the budget went by
report into numerous takes. Every nuance of eyebrow and posture advances the
plot (as Michael Frayn describes Chekhov’s
lines).
Nick Adams sets
the hallmark on this impeccable style by breezing into a room and doing a
magnificent double take at the sight of Doris Day all dolled up. She is the
beauty in Jean Louis who catches a husband out of the party line, understood by
Rock Hudson to consist of a sender and a receiver, merely.
This is
Hudson’s forte. His playing for the camera in a wickedness of
leers, winking, grimacing, rolling his eyes, deadpanning, etc., is a thing of
precision.
Tony Randall
takes the Edward Everett Horton role, and the precise sum of the film’s
style is in its résumé and accomplishment of a mode that goes back
successfully to Astaire & Rogers and Clarence Badger’s It.
Move Over, Darling
The bride is
Bianca, called “Binaca” by the one just
returned in this version of Kanin’s My
Favorite Wife, she goes with the Spanish maid for whom one has to draw
pictures, and the analyst Dr. Schlick who finds the
husband “schizoid”, she doesn’t need a man she needs a
headshrinker.
Variety missed the point and thought it lacked
sophistication, “a light touch,” whereas the Harvard husband had a
football scholarship evidently, and “Adam” really is Tarzan.
Bosley Crowther of the New York Times lectured the
production on comedy “in situations that cry for defter and lighter
touches,” he’d had a busy week, what with Mulligan, J. Lee
Thompson, Daniel Mann and Aldrich to dispose of in the same column (he liked The
Sword in the Stone).
Halliwell’s
Film Guide has a laugh,
“sheer professionalism gets it by.”
Texas Across the River
It isn’t a
state yet, Louisiana is.
A classic
Western, down to the stampede and shootout, devised in comic style.
The silent comedy
technique retrouvé is as much the theme as the
stray longhorns tamed and herded by a piece of Comanche wisdom, Gordon’s
studies aren’t done there, and a year after Maurer’s The Outlaws
Is Coming this is a fine, able, sincere appreciation of the Three Stooges.
On behalf of
“hardened humorists”, Bosley Crowther of
the New York Times declared it “a dreary little frolic”. Variety
was not deluded, however, and called it “a gag-man’s dream”.