"Save the Tiger" is a great movie, perhaps because its strongest moments come in rather conventional situations where the believable characters are realistically profane but never gratuitously vulgar, which is a common failing in today's films. Some might call this unpretentious realism "slow pacing," but I don't think there's anything "slow" about it unless your attention wavers with anything less engaging than several gruesome deaths or graphic sex scenes per hour. On the contrary, I find this interesting flick to be sophisticated and entertaining. Having seen it at a theater when it first came out, and then having watched a heavily censored TV version on numerous occasions since that time, I rented the new DVD and was once again blown away by the original, uncensored script.
The often biting interplay between pragmatic businessman, Harry Stoner (played by Jack Lemmon), and his more idealistic partner, Phil Greene (played by Jack Gilford) supplies among the film's most dramatic moments as they wrestle with a rather drastic solution designed to keep "Capri Casuals" afloat for another season. Equally effective is the gritty exchange between Stoner and a kinky Midwestern buyer who becomes adamant that he be supplied with a favored prostitute as a precondition for placing his usual generous order. Stoner's attempts to discourage him prove fruitless and only make him more determined to get what he wants. Facing this unexpected resistance, the client pleads, "I need these little diversions," explaining that his wife is, "a sick woman all scarred up from all those damn operations."
But the callgirl is all booked up for the day. "That's a very popular lady," Stoner explains. "Why didn't you call me from Cleveland?" "Harry," the client responds, beginning to lose his cool, "I don't make calls like that from Cleveland." When Stoner makes one last attempt to weasel out of pimp duty by bringing up the expense involved, the client finally blows his stack. "You rotten son of a bitch," he cries. "The whole goddamn thing is a write off! I throw my heart across your desk and you're giving me cost!" Suddenly, Phil pops into the office and things cool down immediately. This is good stuff.
As well, the tension boiling over between the old Jewish cutter and the pompous gay designer provide grist for some brief fireworks. Another high point is Stoner's interaction with a naive young hippie girl named Myra who hitches a ride with him down Sunset Blvd. She at first comes off as rather superficially and stereotypically drawn, but in time becomes more appealing, offering Harry non-judgmental affection with no strings attached and a temporary refuge from the pressures and stresses that are edging him ever closer to a nervous breakdown. In contrast, while he's obviously cracking up, the only attention he gets from his concerned yet emotionally distant wife is, "Go see Dr. Frankfurter." A guy in a white coat named "hotdog" is supposed to fix him right up? Gee, I don't think so. Why doesn't she try putting out a little more?
The scenes in the porno theater with the cool and efficient arsonist are also good, as is the one in which Stoner's bitter memories from WWII surface rather inconveniently while he's onstage, attempting to address the assembled buyers at the all-important fashion show. There, he suffers a disturbing hallucination in which audience members are suddenly replaced by his fallen comrades in Charlie Company who died at Anzio. His grip on "reality" takes a serious nosedive right in front of his potential clients. I suspect that scene is considered the best one by professional critics and members of the Academy, but ironically, it is my least favorite moment. In any case, Jack Lemmon has so many good scenes in this movie that it is difficult to single out any one of them as the best. In my most recent viewing, I got the biggest kick out of one of the early scenes, in which Lemmon imitates the windup and delivery of a great pitcher from the good old days, his fond memories of baseball and jazz being all that inspire him anymore.
When you want to see a good movie from the past, cue this one up. It never gets old.
The often biting interplay between pragmatic businessman, Harry Stoner (played by Jack Lemmon), and his more idealistic partner, Phil Greene (played by Jack Gilford) supplies among the film's most dramatic moments as they wrestle with a rather drastic solution designed to keep "Capri Casuals" afloat for another season. Equally effective is the gritty exchange between Stoner and a kinky Midwestern buyer who becomes adamant that he be supplied with a favored prostitute as a precondition for placing his usual generous order. Stoner's attempts to discourage him prove fruitless and only make him more determined to get what he wants. Facing this unexpected resistance, the client pleads, "I need these little diversions," explaining that his wife is, "a sick woman all scarred up from all those damn operations."
But the callgirl is all booked up for the day. "That's a very popular lady," Stoner explains. "Why didn't you call me from Cleveland?" "Harry," the client responds, beginning to lose his cool, "I don't make calls like that from Cleveland." When Stoner makes one last attempt to weasel out of pimp duty by bringing up the expense involved, the client finally blows his stack. "You rotten son of a bitch," he cries. "The whole goddamn thing is a write off! I throw my heart across your desk and you're giving me cost!" Suddenly, Phil pops into the office and things cool down immediately. This is good stuff.
As well, the tension boiling over between the old Jewish cutter and the pompous gay designer provide grist for some brief fireworks. Another high point is Stoner's interaction with a naive young hippie girl named Myra who hitches a ride with him down Sunset Blvd. She at first comes off as rather superficially and stereotypically drawn, but in time becomes more appealing, offering Harry non-judgmental affection with no strings attached and a temporary refuge from the pressures and stresses that are edging him ever closer to a nervous breakdown. In contrast, while he's obviously cracking up, the only attention he gets from his concerned yet emotionally distant wife is, "Go see Dr. Frankfurter." A guy in a white coat named "hotdog" is supposed to fix him right up? Gee, I don't think so. Why doesn't she try putting out a little more?
The scenes in the porno theater with the cool and efficient arsonist are also good, as is the one in which Stoner's bitter memories from WWII surface rather inconveniently while he's onstage, attempting to address the assembled buyers at the all-important fashion show. There, he suffers a disturbing hallucination in which audience members are suddenly replaced by his fallen comrades in Charlie Company who died at Anzio. His grip on "reality" takes a serious nosedive right in front of his potential clients. I suspect that scene is considered the best one by professional critics and members of the Academy, but ironically, it is my least favorite moment. In any case, Jack Lemmon has so many good scenes in this movie that it is difficult to single out any one of them as the best. In my most recent viewing, I got the biggest kick out of one of the early scenes, in which Lemmon imitates the windup and delivery of a great pitcher from the good old days, his fond memories of baseball and jazz being all that inspire him anymore.
When you want to see a good movie from the past, cue this one up. It never gets old.