Reviews

These are not comments! This is a soundtrack listing, which you don't currently post and, for a movie like this, should. The details come from the recent DVD.

1) Overture: Orchestra 2) Prologue: Orchestra 3) Jet Song: Tucker Smith (dubbing Russ Tamblyn) and The Jets 4) Something's Coming: Jim Bryant (dubbing Richard Beymer) 5) The Dance At The Gym: Orchestra, danced by Rita Moreno, George Chakiris, Russ Tamblyn, Gina Trikonis, Tucker Smith, Carole D'Andrea, Yvette Othon, The Jets, The Sharks and their girlfriends. 6) Maria: Jim Bryant (dubbing Richard Beymer) 7) America: Rita Moreno, George Chakiris, The Sharks and their girlfriends 8) Tonight: Marni Nixon (dubbing Natalie Wood) and Jim Bryant (dubbing Richard Beymer) 9) Gee, Officer Krupke!: Russ Tamblyn and the Jets 10) I Feel Pretty: Marni Nixon (dubbing Natalie Wood), Yvette Othun, Suzie Kaye, Joanne Miya 11) One Hand, One Heart: Jim Bryant (dubbing Richard Beymer) and Marni Nixon (dubbing Natalie Wood) 12) Quintet (Tonight): Russ Tamblyn and The Jets, George Chakiris and The Sharks, Rita Moreno (solo), Jim Bryant (dubbing Richard Beymer) and Marni Nixon (dubbing Natalie Wood and, in the ensemble, Rita Moreno) 13) The Rumble: Orchestra, danced by The Jets and The Sharks 14) Somewhere: Jim Bryant (dubbing Richard Beymer) and Marni Nixon (dubbing Natalie Wood) 15) Cool: Tucker Smith, The Jets and their girlfriends. 16) A Boy Like That/I Have A Love: Betty Wand (dubbing Rita Moreno) and Marni Nixon (dubbing Natalie Wood) 17) Somewhere: Marni Nixon (dubbing Natalie Wood) 18) Epilogue/End Credits: Orchestra

With `The Last Samurai', director Ed Zwick appears to be aiming for an epic on the scale of a David Lean or Akira Kurosawa film. He couldn't possibly aim higher, and if he is not entirely successful he has nevertheless produced a film which will leave audiences grateful for the ways in which he is.

Impressively, Zwick never forgets that a great epic is based in equal parts on quiet moments of personal growth as well as on spectacle, and the two are in proper balance throughout `The Last Samurai'. Furthermore, this film never falls into the trap of presenting its American hero as the savior of a group of savages. It's presentation of the Japanese culture as represented by both the government forces and the Samurai warriors is informative, entertaining and never less than three dimensional.

The film's opening (and, later, closing) moments are its weakest. Simply stated, Tom Cruise is completely unconvincing as an embittered and alcoholic Civil War veteran. Watching him deal with stock characters (such as the photographer played by Timothy Spall), we are reminded of school-level productions in which a young cast can not possibly understand much less convey the life experience we are supposed to believe they have had.

Fortunately, things pick up considerably when Cruise finds himself in the hands of the Samurai warriors he has come to Japan to train the soldiers against. Not only is the actor convincing in the physical daring-do we have come to expect of him, but he is able to project a subtle variation on a theme he has explored before. His characters always seem to exist for the purpose of getting some form of comeuppance. Here it comes not in the form of a big emotive scene, but gradually, over the course of time, as he gives himself over to a world based on ritual, respect and honor. These quiet moments, juxtaposed with his learning the ways of the warriors, are the heart and soul of this film. Cruise is greatly abetted by the excellent actors Ken Watanabe and Koyuki in these sequences, as well as by the boys who play Koyuki's sons. Indeed, the greatest example of Zwick's skill in piloting this film can be found in the ease with which the film alternates between two languages, with none of the clunky feel too often associated with joint international ventures.

Not surprisingly, the film leads up to a spectacular battle sequence which, if anything, is even more impressive than any found in `Braveheart' or `Gladiator'. "The Last Samurai" can not help but recall "Dances With Wolves", with which it has a great deal in common, as well.

There is, however, a hokey quality to the film's final half-hour which brings it back to the level of its opening, with an unrealistic coda that its title portends to. There are, in fact, too many endings, and none of them are on the level of the film's best moments.

But if `The Last Samurai' sometimes falls short of its epic aspirations, it nevertheless is far more successful than many of its recent peers. It will be interesting to see how it holds up with time.

Included among the special features of the limited edition DVD of "West Side Story" is this magnificent documentary on the making of the film. We follow the show from it's inception as an idea in Jerome Robbins' mind through a 40th anniversary screening at Radio City Music Hall. Along the way we learn much about the collaborative process that brought the show to fruition on stage and the particular demands faced by the producers in adapting it to the screen. Of particular interest is the attempt to have the film directed by two men, Broadway director Jerome Robbins and Robert Wise. Art and commerce would collide and the exacting Robbins would be sent packing, much to the dismay of his cast. It is also of interest to note that the two distinct changes from the Broadway production were actually planned by it's Broadway creators: Stephen Sondheim always fought for the reversal of "Cool" and "Officer Krupke" and Robbins himself decided to add the men to the "America" number ("elevating it to the heavens", as Rita Moreno remembers).

The viewer learns that Natalie Wood was not always slated to be dubbed, and we hear her high-school soprano renditions of "I Feel Pretty" and "Tonight". (Marni Nixon should surely be given a medal for her ability to be faithful to Natalie's interpretations while literally giving her voice.) More surprisingly, we learn that Russ Tamblyn was dubbed on the opening "Jet Song" by Tucker Smith, who plays Ice in the film and also sings "Cool". Tamblyn's rougher track was certainly serviceable, but co-producer Saul Chaplin believed in leaving the dancing to the dancers and the singing to his professional singers. We do not hear Rita Moreno's original "A Boy Like That", but her concept of the song and her frustration with the dubbed result is quite fascinating.

Indeed, all of the interviewed parties (Sondheim, Arthur Laurents, Harold Prince, Wise, Moreno, Tamblyn, Richard Beymer, Tony Mordente and many others) contribute to a vivid picture of the process of creating one of the most durable classics of two distinct mediums, the Broadway stage and the Hollywood film. You will watch the great "West Side Story" with enhanced appreciation after viewing this documentary.

If movies were only the sum of their parts, "Adaptation" would surely be a masterpiece. Original to the point of audacity and acted to a fare-thee-well by one of the most prestigious casts ever to grace a screen, no one can accuse this one of coming off the assembly line. It's unfortunate that it doesn't add up to a satisfying experience.

Most who find the movie disappointing feel it suffers by going off track in it's final half hour. There is some truth to this, but I feel the problem runs a bit deeper. This is a film that tries to have it both ways in too many ways. It ridicules the world of Hollywood movie making while being so caught up in that world that it never acknowledges a life outside of it. It's self-deprecating humor barely masks how self-congratulatory the endeavor actually is. This is a movie for the suits in Century City. I was more than happy to part company with it by the time it ended.

This is not to say it doesn't provide moments of interest sprinkled with hearty laughs before it wears itself (and us) out. But by continually calling attention to how original it is, it grows stale.

Kauffman and Jonze might want to take a lesson from Pedro Almodovar, whose current movie, "Talk To Her", is far more successful in that it is as involving as it is imaginative. A five minute sequence of that film blows "Adaptation" right out of the water.

The actors are all first rate. Cage is better than he's been in years, though his triumph is a bit of a stunt. Likewise, Cooper is excellent, even if much of the attention he's received derives from the fact that he took the front caps out of his mouth. Meryl Streep is hilarious in her most successful comic performance, and Brian Cox should not be overlooked for his spot-on work as screenwriting guru Robert McKee. For all their good work, though, "Adaptation" is not likely to stick with you for very long.

An "E" for Effort, an "O" for Originality, but a C-Plus for "Adaptation".

I would like to add to my earlier post that Rob Marshall's work on this film appears to be influenced not only by Bob Fosse but by the wonderful and underrated Herbert Ross film, "Pennies From Heaven". Both brilliantly use music as their characters' outlets from reality, and both borrow liberally from previous visual representations of their respective decades.

This is not a criticism of Marshall's originality; it is an acknowledgement of his good taste!

If "Chicago" doesn't prove to be a box-office hit, the Hollywood musical can be considered dead once and for all, because examples of the genre don't get much better than this. Director Rob Marshall is faithful to Bob Fosse not only in terms of choreography but in his ability to adapt what worked on stage to the film medium. His camera is as deft in it's movements as the skillful dancers who populate his film.

Everything works right in this adaptation. The idea of the musical numbers being an extension of the character's fantasies is realized beautifully. As opened up as the show is to reflect the Chicago of the 20's as it is know in the movies, it is always true to it's stage source. A couple of numbers have been excised, but the bulk of them are there to be seen and heard and they are performed magnificently.

Kudos must be given to Marshall's sensational cast, none of whom are known for their expertise in musicals. Renee Zellwegger does her best work as Roxie Hart, and Catherine Zeta Jones and Richard Gere are superb as Velma Kelly and Billy Flynn. There are many characters in this lively film, and every one of them has been cast to perfection. Queen Latifah, Christine Baranski and John C. Reilly could not be better in their respective roles. Never far from the spotlight are the sensational dancers. Footwork like this hasn't been seen on screen since Fosse himself filmed "Cabaret".

On Broadway, "Chicago" played second fiddle to "A Chorus Line" when they both opened originally in 1975. Their Hollywood counterparts completely reverse the pecking order. "Chicago" is right up there with the best of musical adaptations ("West Side Story", "Cabaret", "The Sound of Music") and as it is far more sexy and timely it is sure to appeal to a wider if different audience. It is just about the most entertaining movie to have been released in 2002.

Do you remember how towards the end of "The Sound of Music" Maria and the Captain sang that somewhere in their youth or childhood they must have done something good to have deserved each other? Watching this film I couldn't help but wonder what horrible torture I had put my parents, siblings, friends and teachers through to have ended up thoroughly wasting my afternoon on "Punch Drunk Love".

Much of the press surrounding this film prior to it's release focused on whether or not Adam Sandler could act. He can. Whatever works in this film does so because of him. He is utterly at home in the skin of his oddball, mood-swinging character, and I for one would like to see his edgy emotional range applied to a worthy screenplay. Paul Thomas Anderson's "Punch Drunk Love" is not it.

Critics darling Anderson is a distinctive talent but an extremely limited one. His last film, "Magnolia", was almost a showcase for his strengths and weaknesses. His strengths are revealed in his abiltity to weave a series of stories together mosaic style so as to create a sense of a particular way of life, specifically life as it is lived in LA's San Fernando Valley (and as learned through the more successful storytelling of Robert Altman in "Short Cuts"). His weakness was revealed by the fact that each of the individual stories is terribly limited, hitting one emotional note early and repeating it ad nauseum. Some good acting and clever cross-cutting could only mask this fact for so long.

In "Punch Drunk Love", Anderson eschews his more epic aspirations to focus on the story of one nebbischy office worker who gets himself into trouble when he calls an unscrupulous phone sex service. He simultaneously finds a chance for happiness when his sister introduces him to a friend (Emily Watson). Watson's role is so underwritten as to seem non-existent. Hers is a charming presence, but this romance makes so little sense it is impossible to root for it. The annoying thugs from the phone sex service, led by the ubiquitous Philip Seymour Hoffman, seem to be attempting a balance between menace of both a realistic and a Three Stooges type variety, and really don't pull either off.

Though lighter in tone, the story seems like one that might have been left out of "Magnolia". With no other story to break up it's flow, it quickly becomes monotonous. Attempts at whimsy point towards Anderson's desire to lighten up, but they are clumsy and unsuccessful. Hearing Shelley Duvall as Olive Oyl from Altman's "Popeye" on the soundtrack singing "He Needs Me" is indicative of this, seeming like an inside joke that isn't funny.

So what is this film? A romance for the bi-polar that isn't very romantic? A comedy that is almost always unfunny? It revels in it's strangeness, but this strangeness can not mask how empty it is. I found it to be one of the more unappealing films I have seen in a long time, and I can not understand it's largely favorable critical reception.

Jason Robards' performance as Hickey in the original stage production of "The Iceman Cometh" sealed his reputation as one of the finest actors of the twentieth century and helped to secure O'Neill's as one of America's greatest playwrights. I was fortunate enough to see Robards in the mid-80's revival of the play on Broadway, and his advanced years seemed so relevant to his interpretation that I couldn't imagine what his Hickey might have been like a quarter of a century earlier. Thankfully, this recently released DVD of the 1960 version directed by Sidney Lumet for Public Television has preserved that performance for posterity, and it is truly an unforgettable one. John Frankenheimer's film version of the play is currently unavailable, but one looking for the best possible production need look no further than here.

Robards is matched by a cast that is equal to the challenge of sharing the stage with him. Broadway veterans Myron McCormick, Tom Pedi and James Broderick are magnificent as, respectively, Larry, Rocky and Willie. It is also a treat to see Julie Bovasso and Joan Copeland on hand as two of the bar's unforgettable tarts. Best of all, the young Robert Redford is a terrific Parritt. He looks, if anything, even more handsome than he would when he catapulted to stardom later in the decade, but the true surprise is how powerful his acting is. Parritt is arguably the most demanding role in the play - it left the two talented actors I saw attempt it on Broadway at sea - and Redford is just perfect, giving a riveting and multi-layered performance.

Credit must be given to director Sidney Lumet for filming this production so effectively. There is enough of a sense of live theatre about it to make it compare favorably to an actual live performance, and his selective camera work only enhances this feeling. Though television was still in a relatively primitive stage, the atmosphere in which these barflies do their best to deny their realities is vividly recreated.

This production should be seen by all who are fans of Twentieth Century Theatre, and is an absolute must for fans of Eugene O'Neill. One wonders if the powers that be at PBS had any idea of the gift they were passing down to subsequent generations. They earned whatever they ask for in their next pledge drive with this production of "The Iceman Cometh".

Jason Robards' performance as Hickey in the original stage production of "The Iceman Cometh" sealed his reputation as one of the finest actors of the twentieth century and helped to secure O'Neill's as one of America's greatest playwrights. I was fortunate enough to see Robards in the mid-80's revival of the play on Broadway, and his advanced years seemed so relevant to his interpretation that I couldn't imagine what his Hickey might have been like a quarter of a century earlier. Thankfully, this recently released DVD of the 1960 version directed by Sidney Lumet for Public Television has preserved that performance for posterity, and it is truly an unforgettable one. John Frankenheimer's film version of the play is currently unavailable, but one looking for the best possible production need look no further than here.

Robards is matched by a cast that is equal to the challenge of sharing the stage with him. Broadway veterans Myron McCormick, Tom Pedi and James Broderick are magnificent as, respectively, Larry, Rocky and Willie. It is also a treat to see Julie Bovasso and Joan Copeland on hand as two of the bar's unforgettable tarts. Best of all, the young Robert Redford is a terrific Parritt. He looks, if anything, even more handsome than he would when he catapulted to stardom later in the decade, but the true surprise is how powerful his acting is. Parritt is arguably the most demanding role in the play - it left the two talented actors I saw attempt it on Broadway at sea - and Redford is just perfect, giving a riveting and multi-layered performance.

Credit must be given to director Sidney Lumet for filming this production so effectively. There is enough of a sense of live theatre about it to make it compare favorably to an actual live performance, and his selective camera work only enhances this feeling. This production should be seen by all who are fans of Twentieth Century Theatre, and is an absolute must for fans of Eugene O'Neill. One wonders if the powers that be at PBS had any idea of the gift they were passing down to subsequent generations. They earned whatever they ask for in their next pledge drive with this production of "The Iceman Cometh".

I had all but forgotten about the film of "Alice's Restaurant", which was inspired by (as opposed to based on) Arlo Guthrie's classic and comic song of the same name. Viewing it again on DVD made for a curious experience.

Midway through the film, director Arthur Penn (fresh off of "Bonnie and Clyde", I believe) literally shoots the events on which the song is based, and they are if anything even more amusing on screen than on record. However, anyone expecting the film itself to reflect this tone overall is in for a surprise.

By the time Arlo (playing himself) has his litter-inspired run-in with the draft board (which is, again, hilarious) we have come to know him as one of a commune-like group of people in Stockbridge which is more or less centered around Alice and Ray. The two live unconventionally with their friends in an unused Church. Alice seeks to add some stability to her life by opening a restaurant, which she does successfully with the help of friend Arlo's jingle. She and Arlo are the only members of their group who look beyond the aimless lifestyle of the members of their commune, who are content to meander through life riding motorcycles and getting stoned. We see Alice affected by the drug-inspired struggle and death of addict Shelley and Arlo affected by the long illness and eventual death of his father, Woody Guthrie. Perhaps their emotional connections to their lost loved ones are what clue them in to the shallowness of the lives around them. But if Arlo has his music to move on to, Alice is fairly glued to her life with the stoned-out Ray, their friends and her restaurant. It is with great sadness indeed that she watches Arlo ride off to resume his life on the road.

The point made about the trappings of the Hippie lifestyle being so unfulfilling are well ahead of their time when juxtaposed with other movies of the era and are actually quite haunting. The problem is that they make the wonderful recapping of the events surrounding Arlo's writing of the song seem out of place. This shift in tone is never quite reconciled by director Penn, rendering the film more of a curiosity than a success.

In addition to the now-fabled Thanksgiving sequence, highlights include James Broderick's lively performance as Ray, Pat Quinn's understated one as Alice and Guthrie's ever present charm and humor. It is also a wonderful bonus to see Arlo perform his father's "Pastures of Plenty" and "Car Song" with the wonderful Pete Seeger. (That's folk music producer Harold Leventhal as Woody's manager.) The film itself is ultimately as ramshackle as the group whose story it tells, but if the era means anything to you you will find it worth watching.

A good subject, with an ethical premise - the need to take responsibility for the consequences of one's actions - is given at best two-dimensional treatment in "Changing Lanes". Stars Ben Affleck and Samuel L. Jackson are never able to breathe convincing life into their stereotyped characters, and much of what they have to play is ludicrous. Favorite scene: Jackson destroys a computer in the bank he's gone to to clear his credit and there isn't a security guard to stop him before he leaves. Huh? Secondary characters are mostly one-note, although Toni Collette, Dylan Baker and especially Kim Staunton are to be commended for their well-rounded performances. Even potentially impressive NY location photography is muted by hyper and unflattering camera work. Don't bother with this one unless you feel like Changing Channels.

The buzz about "Road to Perdition" being a front-runner for year end awards reflects two undeniable facts: The year has been an extraordinarily poor one for films, and a film with an undistinguished story can be made to seem better by impressive production values.

"Road to Perdition" tells the story of a gangster who wants to keep his son safe from the life which has befallen him after it has led to disaster for the rest of his family. There is certainly drama to be mined from such a scenario, and the film sustains interest throughout, but it is predictable nearly every step of the way and fails to distinguish itself dramatically. Other than the protagonist, well played by Tom Hanks, most of the actors are given sketchy characters to flesh out, and no one really makes much of an impression. Paul Newman and Jude Law allow an Irish accent and bad teeth to do their work for them and Jennifer Jason Leigh is barely on screen long enough to not be considered an extra. The ever-reliable Stanley Tucci and Dylan Baker succeed in making their characters interesting, but they aren't relevant enough to the story for that to matter much.

The biggest problem with the film is how easy it is to remain a step ahead of. I saw nearly every event coming before it occurred. There is simply no surprise anywhere to be found. Even when Hanks is revealed to have been a step ahead of Law, or vice-versa, the impact is muted by the fact that we are a step ahead of both of them. I even knew the last line of the film well before it was uttered.

Director Mendes and the Dreamworks production machine spared no expense in trying to bring the story to life visually, and it is one of the more magnificent looking films to have been released recently. However, these production values work more as production values than as a legitimate recreation of any particular era. They may even in some way undermine whatever impact the slight story may hold. For example, we watch a magnificent looking shootout in awe of the display of bullets and light, but there is never any question that this scene will mark the end for one of the lead characters, and when his end occurs it does so without dramatic impact. The style has muted the subtance.

"Road to Perdition" isn't a bad film, exactly, but despite it's surface shine it pales mercilessly in comparison to the well-written gangster films it would like to recall.

"Frida" is easily one of the best films of 2002, and though that might not be saying much it is a good enough film to have held it's own in a year full of good movies.

Julie Taymor's direction is nothing short of magnificent. Her bravura filmmaking really brings the story of Frida Kahlo to life in ways which would surely have pleased the artist herself. This film never falls into the traps of most film biographies. We neither lose sight of the art which made us care about Kahlo initially, nor do we lose the human being behind the artist.

Taymor's storytelling keeps us riveted throughout, and she is more than abetted by her excellent cast. Hayek's impassioned work as Frida from girlhood through the vivid experiences which created one of the most distinctive artists of the 20th century will shock anyone who has seen her largely unimpressive work in earlier films. Alfred Molina is simply magnificent as Diego Rivera, the brilliant artist who both inspired and frustrated Frida in equal measure. He is a sure fire Oscar contender for this performance. In a stellar supporting cast, Geoffrey Rush also stands out as Leon Trotsky.

The world in which the Riveras lived and travelled is vibrantly recreated by Taymor and her crack production team. Gorgeous location photography, art direction worthy of the subject herself and atmospheric music all contribute towards making this one of the richest films about an artist ever filmed. Others, like the recent "Pollock", have boasted equally fine acting, but none has had a director with a style to equal that of the milieu being explored before. "Frida" is a wonderful movie, and with it Julie Taymor proves herself one of the most imaginative filmmakers of her time.

It's unfortunate that this wonderful film was ignored by the press and public when it was first released, and that this initial indifference has led to it's being so obscure today. As of yet, it is unavailable on DVD or VHS.

One of Elia Kazan's first film assignments was a documentary about the Tennessee Valley Authority in the 1930's. Incorporating some of the footage from that film, he returned to the subject in 1960 with "Wild River", a film which explores the gray areas of life as richly as any I can think of.

Following the catastrophic floods of 1932, the TVA is determined to build a dam to regulate the flow of the river. The dam can not be operated, however, until the 80 year old Ella Garth (Jo Van Fleet) can be persuaded to leave her home on Garth Island. The situation seems clear and simple to TVA representative Chuck Glover (Montgomery Clift), but it is not long before he must accept that what he sees as progress others see as the destruction of their natural way of life.

The urban intellectual Glover is sensitive enough to be moved by Mrs. Garth's plight but practical enough not to back down, even as he begins an affair with her granddaughter (Lee Remick). This relationship eschews all cinematic cliches, with Remick clearly the aggressor as the two seem pulled together by forces beyond their control. Kazan has criticized Clift's performance, terming him "not masculine" enough (he was gay in real life), but his chemistry with Remick is quite palpable even if it is unorthodox. She is nothing less than luminous, and he responds with the finest and healthiest performance of his later years. Van Fleet is magnificent. Incredibly, she and Clift were the same age at the time of filming.

Kazan's direction is masterful throughout, and he is abetted by his many collaborators. Ellsworth Fredericks's cinematography subtly suggests the inevitable changes of nature, and the mournful sound of Kenyon Hopkins's score on the soundtrack seems to echo the thoughts of the river itself. Paul Osborn's screenplay and the naturalistic work of the supporting cast (virtually a given with Kazan) sustain the documentary-like tone throughout the film, which seems to grow richer with subsequent viewings.

Let's hope the film will become available on video soon, allowing us to take advantage of those subsequent viewings.

Robert De Niro certainly had better luck with director Michael Caton Jones when they last teamed up for "This Boy's Life". "City By The Sea" feels like a by-the-numbers, formulaic cop movie, a formula De Niro has visited too often by now. The cast does what it can with the material, but there is no hiding the fact that the wonderful Frances McDormand is stranded with an uninteresting character. Rising star James Franco shows potential as De Niro's drug-addicted son, but he does seem to be pushing a bit, especially compared to his more understated co-stars.

Many of the film's intended dramatic high points fall flat. I never did figure out how a body thrown into the ocean on Long Beach could have washed up on the East River, and I confess to joining in with the audience laughter when De Niro opened up to McDormand about his character's history. The dialogue in this scene was appallingly clunky. The film's true villain, as played by the usually reliable William Forsythe, never rises above the level of a stock character.

However, just as I thought the film was going to chug along to a predictable conclusion, I found myself being pulled in by the father's predicament. De Niro is masterful as he pleads with his son to spare himself. We are no longer watching a movie star in too-familiar territory, but are sharing the years of regret that a failed father must rise above to save his cursed son and grandson from ultimate disaster. Nothing in the otherwise superior and similarly themed "Road to Perdition" was as effective as this scene, which contains some of the most moving acting of this great actor's career. It makes the film well worth seeing, although most of what precedes it prevents it from being a must-see.

Nathaniel West's "Lonelyhearts" is a haunting novella about how an idealistic young man is affected by his job as an advice-giving columnist for his town's newspaper. It was intelligently adapted for the stage in the mid-50's, and the film version plainly uses that adaptation as a reference point as much as the novel itself. In ways, the film expands on the play's success, opening it up to reveal an idealized 50's picture-postcard town on the surface before centering on the insensitivity lying just underneath. Writer/Producer Schary and Director Donohue are to be commended for the atmosphere they have successfully created. It is unfortunate that they did not have enough faith in the material to resist the temptation to give it a happy ending, an ending which really is not in keeping with the events which precede it.

It must have seemed like a great idea to cast Montgomery Clift in the lead role of Adam, and a few years earlier it would have been, but this compelling actor's personal demons had so impacted upon him by this time that it is impossible not to be distracted by his unhealthy state of being. His slurred speech, unsteady gait and jerky mannerisms are entirely at odds with this character, who is said to have never had a stronger drink than a coca-cola. He is too good of an actor not to have effective moments - he works beautifully with Onslow Stevens, who plays his father - but this is a performance that holds our attention largely for unintentional reasons. Maureen Stapleton is sensational in her film debut as a writer to the column who manipulates Adam, and her performance would be right at home in a more faithful and successful version of this novel. Otherwise, this is a well-intended film which fails both to adequately reflect the novel on which it is based and to succeed on it's own terms.

I was fortunate enough to see "Straight Time" when it was released, and it has always surprised me that such a well-acted movie could have become so obscure. Watching it again, I could see how the film could be considered off-putting due to a protagonist it is hard to root for, but I gained an even greater appreciation for the fine work a great cast put into it.

Giving one of his finest performances, Dustin Hoffman excels as an ex-con who, despite his best efforts, can not adjust to life as a parolee. He seethes at a world in which he is now guilty until proven innocent, and after a humiliating confrontation with his parole officer (M. Emmett Walsh, also excellent) he finds himself on the lam again. His girlfriend (Therese Russell, in her best performance) helps him to find work but it is not long before he is in the company of the cons and criminals of his past (Gary Busey and Harry Dean Stanton, both terrific) and he is now more detrimental to them than they are to him. That's young Jake Busey as Gary's son and Kathy Bates as the wife who tries to keep him out of trouble. Her fully realized performance is well in keeping with the great work we've come to expect from this fine actress.

But this is Hoffman's show all the way - he was in fact originally slated to direct. For most of the film, all traces of his physical and vocal mannerisms disappear as he sinks into the skin of an underprivileged felon who has taken too many wrong turns. We easily forget the difference in their sizes as we watch his final confrontation with Busey. Most impressively, this performance neither asks for our sympathy nor demands our judgement. Though many of his performances are among the finest ever put on film, the understated and un-theatrical quality of his work here is more along the lines of Hackman and Duvall at their very best. He more than proves himself their peer, and the film deserves to be rediscovered so this great performance can be more fully appreciated.

"Me, Natalie" is very much a film of two times: literally, the late 1960's (in which it takes place) and figuratively, post-adolescence, which it's heroine grapples with throughout the film. Along the literal lines, the film sensitively deals with the generation gap during the era in which it was perhaps most severe. Impressively, ageism is never cause for condescension in this film. Not so impressively, a gooey Henry Mancini soundtrack and some maudlin wanna-be-romantic photography date it pretty badly. As a coming of age story, the film is very much a contemporary of "The Sterile Cuckoo", being about a relative misfit who must find what works for her as she enters adulthood. How one feels about these eras will invariably affect how one responds to the film.

It's chief assets are it's vivid New York atmosphere and it's terrific cast. Patty Duke carries this film as effortlessly as Sandy Dennis or Natalie Wood carried earlier films of a similar nature, and she is surrounded by a terrific supporting cast. Fans of "The Sopranos" will enjoy seeing the late Nancy Marchand, who is superb as a very different type of mother than Livia Soprano. Martin Balsam and Elsa Lanchester are also memorable in brief appearances. James Farentino is effective as the artist Natalie falls in love with, and Al Pacino is charismatic in his first screen role as a cad she meets at a dance. The entire cast works beautifully, and makes a look at this film well worth while.