Ann-Margret's Anatomy VS 'Bus Riley's Back in Town' 1965

A-M's kitten with a whip routine wreaks havoc with William Inge's kitchen sink drama, 'Bus Riley's Back in Town.'

Bus Riley’s Back in Town is one of those flicks that’s fondly remembered by some film fans but mostly forgotten by mainstream movie audiences. The 1965 slice of life drama had a troubled production, was not a critical or commercial success, isn’t often shown on television, or readily available on DVD. I was thrilled when I finally found a good version of Bus Riley on line, and the link is at the end of this essay.

Michael Parks had to live down "the next James Dean" label, in an era that was not looking for '50s rebels.

I am a movie buff with nostalgic memories of Bus Riley’s Back in Town. The story of a sailor who comes back to his home town, only to find out things have changed, and ultimately figures out he needs to change, as well, was a TV staple in the ‘70s. Watching movies like Bus Riley, Valley of the Dolls, and Peyton Place made me feel very grown up, especially if I was watching with my Mom. She was a fan of Bus Riley’s Michael Parks, who had made a TV comeback with Then Came Bronson, the hippie biker with the catch phrase, “Hang in there.”

Playwright William Inge was to the Midwest what Tennessee Williams was to the South, depicting lives of not-so-quiet desperation. Inge recycled some archetypes from his most famous work, Picnic, to portray small town life in Bus Riley’s Back in Town: the sensible widow who takes in boarders; the insecure "pretty" older and “sensitive” kid sisters; the neurotic old maid school teacher; and the ne’er-do-well charmer who comes home and shakes things up.

Ann-Margret is just a small town country club wife in 'Bus Riley's Back in Town!'

There are basically two movies going on in Bus. One is a domestic comedy-drama, told realistically for the time, with a cast of fine character actors who look and act like real people. Then there’s an Ann-Margret melodrama, still in Kitten with a Whip mode. After the opening scenes of the working class Riley family reunion with returning sailor Bus, the film cuts to A-M’s Laurel, his sexy ex. She plays possum on her pillow, when her rich older husband comes to her bed to say goodbye, before he leaves on business. The film then turns into a Ross Hunter version of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof: A-M sulking in bed, with a tidal wave of hair and ton of makeup, shot in gauzy cinematography by Hunter's fave lensman, Russell Metty, all accompanied with swelling piano music. And once Bus hits town, Ann-Margret’s local vixen turns into a crazy town Maggie the Cat!

Ann-Margret is basically Maggie the Crazy Cat to Michael Parks' ambivalent Bus Riley.

Most of the film follows the small town dreams and disappointments of Bus Riley's family and friends, which are often quite affecting. Then along comes A-M's Laurel, who can't seem to decide whether she loves or hates Bus. Either way, A-M is full-on Ann-Margrock, complete with babykins voice, sultry gazes through her peek-a-boo hairdo, as she swans about in Jean Louis outfits. A-M’s character also seems slightly insane, as she deliberately runs into Bus’ car as an excuse to talk, stalks, bites, and even jumps into her pool fully dressed, all to seduce him.

Most absurd is when Laurel enlists her much older BFF "Benii" as her “date,” in order to run into Bus at a local hot spot. A-M selects a slow sexy number on the jukebox that sends her into a slithery, come hither routine, with her aging pal dancing by himself, until she slinks her way back. Suddenly, it feels like we’re in Twin Peaks! Lots of A-M self-touching, with half-closed eyes, and full-hair tossing, that is totally self-parody. This was one of several early Ann-Margret movies where her sex symbol image was boosted at the expense of the film’s finished product. A-M was also one of a number of starlets touted to be the next Marilyn Monroe, after MM’s untimely demise.

Ann-Margaret's Laurel gets down with BFF "Benii" to vamp Bus. With color-coordinated their dancing shoes!

Unfortunately, the sex kitten with claws image was one that she had to live down. Finally, in 1970, directing great Mike Nichols did for A-M in Carnal Knowledge what he did for Elizabeth Taylor in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and later, Cher, in Silkwood: shine a light on the talent of a star with an over-exposed image. Ann-Margret went on to become a terrific actress, especially in her later TV work.

The break up between Laurel and Bus is Ann-Margret and Michael Parks’ best scene together. A-M is at Laurel’s makeup table, perpetually putting on lipstick, while Parks’ Bus is trying to have a serious talk with her. Bus takes the lipstick and Laurel snatches it right back. When Parks slaps it out of her hand, A-M snarls, “What?!!” Parks is most effective, soft-spoken as he explains why he can’t be with her anymore, and Ann-Margaret shows a glimpse of her future emotionalism as an actress, when Laurel realizes she’s really lost Bus this time. It’s a startling scene.

Bus Riley and Laurel are about to break up again for good, in this intense scene that involves a flying lipstick!

Prolific television director Harvey Hart is quite capable with the cast, save Ann-Margret. Michael Parks got a bad rap as a James Dean wannabe. While he did look like a more conventionally good-looking version of Jimmy and occasionally affected the same method acting style as Dean, he also has some Brando-esque moments as Bus Riley. In the film's opening, he is awoken repeatedly, finally by his sister's noisy boyfriend, making a racket in his car. His "Hey, Paula!" rant is a good-natured homage to Marlon's famed "Hey, Stella!" There are other moments when Parks gets to show his flair for dry humor. Yet, he also has a number of subtle dramatic scenes, especially with Jocelyn Brando as his mother and Janet Margolin, as a family friend he gradually realizes is a kindred spirit. All in all, Michael Parks makes a good impression as Bus Riley, and it should have led to better roles. I wonder if Michael Parks didn’t take off as a movie star because, like Ann-Margret, getting groomed respectively as the next James Dean or Marilyn Monroe by the mid-60s was passé.

The Riley family at breakfast, from left: Mimsy Farmer, Jocelyn Brando, and Kim Darby. And that's the back of Brett Somers' head, who plays their uptight boarder.

Kim Darby was quirky even as a teen and an acquired taste as a performer. Most famous for True Grit, these qualities suit her role as the offbeat kid sister, Gussie. The kid sis idolizes Bus, and she and Parks have a sweet rapport. As her best friend Judy, Janet Margolin, of the art house classic, David and Lisa, is most appealing. As the girl stuck in the role of adult to her divorced, depressed, and drinking mother, Margolin's doe-eyed looks and aching vulnerability are a striking contrast to Ann-Margaret's tawdry antics. 

Janet Margolin shines as Judy, the one who may be just the right girl for Bus Riley.

Most amusing is Brett Somers as the uptight boarder, Carlotta. Anybody who grew up in the '70s remembers Brett as the game show version of Elaine Stritch on Match Game, sharing whiskey-voiced, bawdy quips, and vying with Charles Nelson Reilly to see who could be more outrageous. To see Somers clutching her pearls as Parks' Bus bumbles around in his boxers or catches her on the can is especially hilarious.

Jocelyn Brando plays the warm but pragmatic Mrs. Riley, and the scenes with her children ring true. She brings a realistic mix of offering level-headed advice for happiness in small town life, with a touch of resignation. Still, Brando, who was Marlon's older sister, will always be Mommie Dearest's favorite reporter, Barbara Bennett from Redbook, to me!

Jocelyn Brando is great as always as Mrs. Riley, trying to keep wayward son Bus on the right track.

Brad Dexter, who seems to have been in every '60s movie, plays the Atomic vacuum salesman who gives Bus a career break. Their scene with housewife Alice Pearce (Bewitched's Gladys Kravitz #1) gives the movie some intentional levity. Another actress who has just one, but memorable scene, is Lisabeth Hush as Joy, the Mrs. Robinson of Bus' little berg. She’s funny and sexy in her golden lounging get-up, riffing and flirting on astrology and ESP, and offers this classic come-on to salesman Bus: "Why be a square when the world is round?" 

Lisabeth Hush is a sly hoot as sexy housewife Joy, one of Bus' 'customers.'

Ethel Griffies, the ornithologist who offered dire warnings of The Birds, is a tough old bird of a matriarch from the local funeral home here. Most striking is Crahan Denton as her closeted alcoholic mortician son who offers Bus a job—with extra duties. With a hand on Bus' knee, there's a striking close-up as he says, "I'm a lonely man, Bus." What's forward thinking is at a funeral later, Bus holds no grudges and goes over to greet him. In a similar vein, when Judy's alcoholic Mom dies in a fire caused by her burning cigarette, there's a humane assessment of her disease, not demonization. Even when Bus finally breaks up with Laurel, and she snaps that she hates him, he just replies softly, "And I feel sorry for you." Considering the hell she's put him through, I thought that was a most charitable answer.

Aside from the Dean comparisons, Michael Parks is sensitive, funny, and sexy as Bus Riley.

Mimsy Farmer—love that name!—as the older, pretty sister Paula, is alternately snarky and sweet; Larry Storch is the likeable barkeep pal; Nan Martin’s a believable mess as Judy's mother; and David Carradine, creepy even then, is Bus' buddy Stretch. Star Trek’s Scotty himself, James Doohan, rounds out the stellar cast. 

David Carradine makes an early film appearance as an old high school pal of Parks' Bus Riley.

Much was made when William Inge requested that his name be removed from Bus Riley’s Back in Town credits, due to changes made by the film’s producer, Elliot Kastner, to "glorify Ann-Margret." The screenplay was credited to "Walter Gage" in the finished film. A decade later, Ann-Margret told her side, saying the changes were made to soften her character, and that she wasn’t happy about it, either.

Could those cut scenes be restored and the re-shoots removed? Hard to say, but my guess is highly unlikely. At least it would make great fodder for a Bus Riley DVD. Meanwhile, you can either savor the small town fare of Bus Riley or chuckle at the deep dish camp of Ann-Margret purring and sneering her way through this bi-polar bonanza.

Watch Bus Riley’s Back in Town here: https://rarefilmm.com/2018/07/bus-rileys-back-in-town-1965/

Ann-Margret plays with her... oh, never mind!

When Sinatra Met Simon: 'Come Blow Your Horn' 1963

'Come Blow Your Horn' lets 1963-vintage Sinatra toot his own horn as a swinging bachelor!

 There’s something fascinating about '60s Sinatra, his legend already in place, as Frank’s film roles rapidly morphed into his off-screen persona. 

I'm of the school who thinks Frank Sinatra was a refreshingly natural actor, especially in an era when movie acting was still theatrical. Sinatra could be cynical yet romantic, wise-cracking, sincere, with a tough but tender approach that was most appealing—not unlike his idol, Humphrey Bogart. Though he possessed great eyes and smile, I never thought Frankie was that handsome and for most of his career, he was a runt of a guy. Yet, watching him in his heyday, I totally get why women were wild for Old Blue Eyes. My maternal grandmother was one of them!

Frank has all of "Horn's" horny ladies under his spell. Barbara Rush, left, is the good girl with footie jammies!

Once the Rat Pack era reigned, films like The Manchurian Candidate were fewer, and lazy genre movies that were self-referential were the name of the game. And like many post-war superstars who started resting on their laurels later, Sinatra’s movie star status dropped fast after mid-60s cinematic game changers like Blow Up and Bonnie and Clyde.

Sinatra on the set of  'Horn': Note the bike's signature. Nobody ever said Sinatra was PC!

Come Blow Your Horn was Neil Simon's first hit play, and the only one for which he didn't write the screenplay. Though commercially successful, Simon wasn't pleased with the way Horn was shoe-horned into fitting Frank's own living large bachelorhood. After this, Simon wrote a string of smashes, starting with Barefoot in the Park, and “Doc” was able to main control over subsequent screen adaptations of his plays.

Sinatra as the swinging bachelor, with Barbara Rush as the patient good girl friend.

Not that the role of freewheeling bachelor wasn’t suited to Frank. Sinatra seems to be having fun here, shows his flair for comedy, and is warm and sexy as hell. But the role of Alan Baker, a Jewish guy, as played by the world's most famous Sicilian, Francis Albert Sinatra?! The discrepancy is more obvious when Lee J. Cobb and Molly Picon excruciatingly play Sinatra’s cliché Jewish parents, who worry about their swinging older son, as he takes his “kid” brother under his wing. It’s strange enough that swinger Sinatra has a kid brother who's just turned 21 and he’s supposed to be in his late 30s. This is compounded by the fact that Frank was actually in his late 40s—and looking it. Any time callow Tony Bill shares a scene with Sinatra, one thinks of Frank Jr., with a little of junior playboy Warren Beatty thrown in!

Even artful lighting couldn't hide the fact that Sinatra wouldn't get away with playing "younger" much longer.

Even stranger still is Lee J. Cobb as the father, who was only four years older than Sinatra. And Jill St. John, as the bimbo bombshell, like Tony Bill, was a quarter of a century younger than Frank. With Sinatra the Superstar dropped into the middle of all this Simon sitcom silliness, it feels like a future SNL sketch.

No, this isn't Frank Sinatra starring in 'Fifty Shades of Orange!' It's just Old Blues favorite color.

Also, the Baker family business is plastic fruit sales, yet the family lives in a lavish '60s modern house, and Frank lives in a swanky pad worthy of Sinatra himself, right down to the Chairman of the Board's favorite shades of orange. 

All of this did not go unnoted at the time, especially by the New York Times’ resident grumpy critic, Bosley Crowther. However, a number of critics gave it a passing grade at the time—and a few even now!—but Come Blow Your Horn seems blaringly obvious, dated, and nonsensical today.

There's a lot of talent here: Norman Lear and Bud Yorkin at the helm; a great cast; William Daniels' cinematography and Edith Head costumes;  a lavish set design; some snappy lines; even Frank’s stopping the picture while singing the title tune. Still, it's all so over the top, that it smothers Simon's simple story.

Jill St. John sports this Edith Head get up as she phones in a Marilyn Monroe impersonation for 'Horn.'

The women are all Playboy-era stereotypes, wearing tons of hair and makeup: Jill St. John, doing a one-dimensional Marilyn Monroe impersonation (much better later as the wisecracking divorcee in Sinatra’s Tony Rome); Phyllis McGuire, looking and acting like a fierce drag queen, as the Texas store shopper; and lovely and intelligent Barbara Rush, as the simpering girlfriend, waiting for Frank propose. Rush is so goody-goody, she even sleeps in pajamas with footies! This was also one of the first films where EVERY woman who crosses Sinatra’s path is entranced by him.

The cast of  1963's 'Come Blow Your Horn.'

The sexual attitudes and social humor of Come Blow Your Horn are the last hurrah of a more “innocent” time, when this farce was released in the summer of ‘63. In fact, there's a party scene where a guest is hypnotized into seeking out John F. Kennedy. She approaches Sinatra as JFK, to berate him about some of his policies, with Frank replying in a clever Kennedy impersonation. This was the last gasp of the post-war ring-a-ding era—when good times meant drinking, smoking, living large, and chasing women. To me, Come Blow Your Horn is more of a perversely fascinating time capsule, than timeless entertainment.

'Come Blow Your Horn' is Frank's show all the way.

It's Curtains for 'The Cobweb' 1955

One flew away from the cuckoo's nest!

“The trouble began…” So begins the fevered film version of William Gibson’s novel, The Cobweb. Gibson, best known as the playwright of The Miracle Worker and Two for the Seesaw, wrote the story, inspired by his psychotherapist wife's tenure at The Menninger Clinic. I’ve never read the book, but somehow I don't think the brilliant Gibson plotted The Cobweb like another MGM Grand Hotel-style, all-star soap opera. 

Pulp fiction? Playwright William Gibson's novel.

The original casting for the film’s romantic triangle was MGM mannequins Robert Taylor, Lana Turner, and Grace Kelly—this was more apt for the super-glam soap opera. Instead, familiar film noir faces Richard Widmark, Gloria Grahame, and Lauren Bacall assumed the roles of the idealistic clinic head, dissatisfied wife, and the lonely art therapist—which gives the film a bit of grit.

Sensitive Stevie Holte talks about flowers, art, and life with the sultry and sweaty doctor's wife, played by Grahame.

Widmark’s Dr. McIver has the cockeyed notion that patients should be treated like people, not caged animals, which has the old guard gunning for him, natch. On the home front, his wife Karen is bored in EVERY way. Since the doc is an idealist, Meg, the other woman who pines for him, is also so very noble.

Chaos over curtains for the library!

The film depicts the institution's staff and family as neurotic as the patients. At one point, Widmark declares that he feels they are all trapped—yes—in a cobweb! Only in the melodramatic world of Vincente Minnelli would a film's drama hinge on drapes. And it's curtains for The Cobweb characters, as the various contingents are determined to have their way over the patient lounge's new decor: Lillian Gish as the domineering Miss Inch is aptly named, as she never gives an one, and wants the curtains made cheap; Gloria Grahame's Vicki needs a project, with money or permission no object; and Lauren Bacall's art therapist Meg has the progressive idea of letting an angst-ridden artist/patient design them. Who will prevail?

Susan Strasberg & John Kerr play two patients, attracted to each other,
who venture to the outside world on a date.

MGM's then-resident sensitive young man John Kerr plays the troubled Steve Holte, who runs away from the clinic at the start and near the end of the film! While his performance is as good as the rest of the cast, Kerr's somewhat feral looks make it easy to see why his career was short-lived in an era of Tab Hunter types. But I found Kerry quite effective. 

One of many strange moments, when Richard Widmark tucks in his unbuttoned shirt
without unbuttoning his pants!

Richard Widmark was one of those golden era actors who seemed so natural on the screen and makes the preposterous proceedings almost believable here. Gloria Grahame's natural brass as his wife gives the soapiness some much needed humor. Also, was it in Gloria's contract that she always must look slightly sweaty? I was getting a Maggie the Cat vibe from Grahame here, as the frustrated wife who needs to cool off.

Lauren Bacall got second billing, but fourth-billed Gloria Grahame got all the scenes!

The movie is so overstuffed with characters and situations that Lauren Bacall has nothing to do but look lovely and lonely from the sidelines. Bacall doesn't even have a scene of her own until thirty minutes in and her first kiss with Widmark comes near the film’s finale. There is pleasure to be found in Lauren playing a sympathetic lead rather than her usual snarky self. Then-rising star Susan Strasberg has it even worse. Aside from a few scenes with Kerr toward the end, Strasberg’s always in the group scenes. Surprising, since Susan broke out big in Picnic the same year.

Gloria grabs the fabrics situation by the horn in this climactic curtain scene!

Lillian Gish is amusingly hammy as the firebrand Victoria Inch. And whoever thought of Charles Boyer for Dev, the clinic's former head honcho, must have been out of their mind. As the deluded, drunken, ladies man, Boyer, with his inimitable French accent, is somehow stuck out in the Kansas cornfields. He comes across like Pepe LePew, especially when drooling over Grahame’s character. Was it considered clever to cast Hollywood's most famous neurotic, Oscar Levant, as a mother fixated patient? For me, while rightly famed for his wit, his screen presence always escaped me. 

Fans of golden era Hollywood melodrama will probably The Cobweb, but other movie watchers will probably draw the drapes on this florid film.

Gloria Grahame brings the fever AND the floral curtains to 'The Cobweb!'

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

Happy New Year from Rick!

Happy New Year to all my film friends here! This still is from "Made for Each Other," a lovely 1939 soap opera starring Jimmy Stewart and the great Carole Lombard, who was just as adept at drama as she was at comedy. Check it out, the movie is available for free all over the internet. I promise to be writing more in 2019, than the last few months. I'm looking to write with more frequency, but shorter posts...stay tuned!