Die Junggesellenparty

A "slice of life" drama centered around a bachelor party. Don Murray plays a newly married, not very happily married, man. His vague dissatisfaction with his marriage is tested as he wander into Greenwich Village (nicely filmed on location)and compares himself to his friends--an older, struggling married man, the bridegroom, the confirmed bachelor. Will he stray or not? The movie is depressing, far less uplifting than Marty. But good performances from Murray, Jack Warden and Carolyn Jones.

Despite the reassuring conventional ending, this is one of the few 50's films to catch the decade's growing unease. It's a post-war period of fast rising prosperity and "settling down" into a comfortable life style denied to the Depression and war years. Migration to suburbs turns into a stampede as more and more folks can afford a piece of real estate. The movie's setting, however, is Manhattan, but the prevailing atmosphere of job, marriage and kids carries over.

The movie follows five office co-workers on-the-town, celebrating one of the buddies' engagement (Arnold's). Anxiously uncertain Arnold is about to settle into the prevailing life style, which seems like a cause to celebrate. But as the movie progresses, layers of convention begin to peel away exposing a core of self-doubt and degrees of unhappiness among the married men (Blyden, Marshall, and Murray), and one that soon turns into full-blown angst over ordinary middle-class norms. Each party-goer reacts in an individual way as he begins to face a hidden personal truth. As a result, the party turns from a celebration into what amounts to a trial by fire, at the same time we glimpse some of the underlying tensions of the time.

Those tensions revolve around two core issues—sexuality and freedom. Settling down means security and the consolations of family and friends. But it also means a loss of freedom to explore new life styles and relationships. Murray, in particular, feels the conflict as the roving party opens up tempting new worlds and a sense of adventure, especially with Carolyn Jones' exotic seductress. It's really Murray's character who is pivotal as the less spirited Blyden and Marshall retreat from the temptations that urban nightlife offers. On the other hand, Murray's married man is stimulated, making his outcome emblematic of the film's outcome.

The movie is really more effective in opening these issues than in dealing with them. Warden, the bachelor, whom the others envy for his single-man freedom, is later shown as leading an empty and compulsive life, not to be envied. Similarly, Jones' sexual cravings are shown to be empty and unrewarding. Thus the deck is ultimately stacked against an unmarried life style, thereby reinforcing the conventions of then and perhaps now. I don't know if that was writer Chayefski's choice or whether the conformism was mandated by nervous producers, but the slant remains, nevertheless .

Two well-executed scenes expose tensions on the woman's side. Murray's sweet, pregnant wife Smith is visited by her older sister-in-law Marchand. The talk quickly becomes a heart- to-heart, where Marchand reveals the angst of a settled marriage, in which her doctor husband has pursued a number of affairs, leaving her with the kids and a comfortable life- style she'll stay with, even though she conveys an air of frustration and emptiness. When Smith objects that her husband, Murray, is not like that, Marchand tells her to just wait until they too have been married eleven years. What's more, she advises Smith to get rid of the pregnancy so that Murray will have a chance to finish accounting school and "fulfill himself". The implication is that marriage and family can become a trap leaving both partners unhappy. Needless to say, Smith's young wife is left deeply apprehensive, but hopeful that she and her husband are different. These are two very well written and well-acted scenes.

Taking an historical step back from the film-- the tensions on display here break into the open during the free-love counter-cultural movement of the 1960's, when a new generation not chastened by the hardships of the 30's and 40's arrives on the scene. Stripped of political context, their rebellion can be viewed as a more self-indulgent reaction to the confines of the job-marriage-family norm that Bachelor Party deals with and that their parents settled for. The issue of why the rebellion faded away in favor of a return to those more traditional norms remains an interesting question, but poses a context different from the one in the film.

The movie itself is well paced by director Mann, who manages to keep things moving despite all the dialogue. It's also a powerhouse cast with such familiar faces of the time as Warden, Marshall, Murray and Jones. Murray especially is an attractive player who managed to combine a sense of boyish enthusiasm with an adult-level of sincerity. As a young husband, he's perfect. Sure, the movie looks dated as fashions, styles, and technology change. But the underlying issues that the movie deals with remain as relevant now as then, as national divorce statistics, for one, testify. For a look at how similar themes were handled during the same period in a suburban rather than a city setting, check out No Down Payment (1957, Martin Ritt). Nonetheless, Bachelor Party remains a worthwhile look back in time for its perceptive exploration of conventions that in most ways are still with us.

Remember in the 1955 film, "Marty," a group of guys keep asking, "So, what are we going to do tonight?" That film as well as this one was directed by Delbert Mann with the writing done by Paddy Chayefsky. In "Bachelor Party" the guys really don't seem to know again what they're going to be doing.

Despite excellent performances by Don Murray, E.G. Marshall, Larry Blyden and Nancy Marchand, this film stagnates. I was almost getting dizzy from the constant subway rides. It was great seeing what the New York subways looked like in the 1950s but enough was enough.

When several guys in an office plan a bachelor party for a nervous to-be-groom, nicely done by Philip Abbott, it becomes an evening of self-examination.

I was waiting for a burst out scene but unfortunately that never came.

Much has been made about Carolyn Jones's brief supporting Oscar nomination bid. As far as I'm concerned, it was much ado about nothing. Patricia Smith, as Don Murray's wife, and Nancy Marchand, as the sister-in-law, gave far better performances as an anxious-to-be mother and sister-in-law whose husband, a doctor, has been cheating on her.

Jack Warden epitomizes the care-free bachelor whose main purpose in life is to chase after women. His life is quite empty as we see at the end of the film. Larry Blyden, who left us way too early, depicts the stay-at-home type who quickly realizes that this "party" is a mistake and that he belongs home. Marshall does a complete turn in acting as the asthmatic member of the group who has to relocate to Arizona if he wants to survive.

The film conveys the frustrations of every day life. Someone should have told the film makers about the frustrations in this film as well.

Paddy Chayefsky's screenplay is perceptive and even a bit daring for its time. This is an unusually sophisticated Hollywood picture from the 50s that contains some terrific acting. E.G. Marshall is very strong as the eldest of the men, but Oscar nominee Carolyn Jones is brilliant in a small, electrifying performance. She can't be in the film for more than 7 or 8 minutes but is completely memorable. She deserved to win the Oscar.

Don Murray is good as a married man coaxed (by his wife!) into attending a bachelor party for a fellow bookkeeper. The wife (well played by Patricia Smith) seems to know the party will test Murray's nose-to-the-grindstone dedication to their marriage. It does -- and reveals a great deal about the other participants as well, especially the prospective bridegroom, who seems to get more emotional satisfaction from friend Murray than his bride-to-be. The ending is sentimental, but moving, too, if you give it a chance, and there's a truly brilliant small performance from Carolyn Jones, probably seven or eight of the most mesmerizing minutes ever filmed.