Sweet Smell of Success
Original post date: 14 April 2019
Rating: ✭✭✰✰
“I’d hate to take a bite outta you. You’re a cookie full of arsenic.” This 1957 poison pen letter to the world of journalistic arrogance and backstabbing scriveners was based on stories by Ernest Lehman, drawn from his experiences as a gofer for Walter Winchell and other gossip columnists. Lehman wanted to direct, but the producers instead brought in a more experienced helmer, Scottish Ealing veteran Alexander Mackendrick. Lehman withdrew because of a stomach illness, and Clifford Odets was brought in for rewrites of Lehman’s screenplay. The result is a darkly cynical portrait of a society in which powerful egos must be stroked, principles are for losers, and working gals could sure use a #MeToo movement. Tony Curtis plays sleazy publicist Sidney Falco with just enough of a hint of conscience—mainly reflected through concerned looks from his secretary, Sally (Jeff Donnell)—to hope he’ll eventually do the right thing—or at least not do the wrong thing. As imperious columnist J.J. Hunsecker, who clutches the fates of politicians, celebrities and, yes, sleazy publicists, in the palm of his hand, Burt Lancaster holds court in Manhattan’s trendiest watering holes like a maharaja, rewarding and punishing supplicants on a whim. The only hint of purity in this sordid world is the budding romance between Hunsecker’s much-younger gilded lily of a sister (Susan Harrison) and a budding and strangely wholesome jazz musician played by Martin (here billed as Marty) Milner. Technically, there is a happy ending, so why doesn’t it feel like one? At least we can take comfort in knowing that a half-century later the state of the media would be so much with the advent of Twitter. Look for David White (future Larry Tate on Bewitched) in his movie debut as one more sleazy columnist. Random trivial note: a quarter-century later Lancaster would make a much more uplifting picture with a different Scottish director, Bill Forsyth, called Local Hero.
Rating: ✭✭✰✰
“I’d hate to take a bite outta you. You’re a cookie full of arsenic.” This 1957 poison pen letter to the world of journalistic arrogance and backstabbing scriveners was based on stories by Ernest Lehman, drawn from his experiences as a gofer for Walter Winchell and other gossip columnists. Lehman wanted to direct, but the producers instead brought in a more experienced helmer, Scottish Ealing veteran Alexander Mackendrick. Lehman withdrew because of a stomach illness, and Clifford Odets was brought in for rewrites of Lehman’s screenplay. The result is a darkly cynical portrait of a society in which powerful egos must be stroked, principles are for losers, and working gals could sure use a #MeToo movement. Tony Curtis plays sleazy publicist Sidney Falco with just enough of a hint of conscience—mainly reflected through concerned looks from his secretary, Sally (Jeff Donnell)—to hope he’ll eventually do the right thing—or at least not do the wrong thing. As imperious columnist J.J. Hunsecker, who clutches the fates of politicians, celebrities and, yes, sleazy publicists, in the palm of his hand, Burt Lancaster holds court in Manhattan’s trendiest watering holes like a maharaja, rewarding and punishing supplicants on a whim. The only hint of purity in this sordid world is the budding romance between Hunsecker’s much-younger gilded lily of a sister (Susan Harrison) and a budding and strangely wholesome jazz musician played by Martin (here billed as Marty) Milner. Technically, there is a happy ending, so why doesn’t it feel like one? At least we can take comfort in knowing that a half-century later the state of the media would be so much with the advent of Twitter. Look for David White (future Larry Tate on Bewitched) in his movie debut as one more sleazy columnist. Random trivial note: a quarter-century later Lancaster would make a much more uplifting picture with a different Scottish director, Bill Forsyth, called Local Hero.
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