Der Zorn des Gerechten

PAUL MUNI could always be counted on to give an interesting performance, even if sometimes over-the-top (as he was in A SONG TO REMEMBER as Chopin's mentor). But here, in his last gasp as a screen actor, he does himself proud in an Oscar-nominated performance.

He's a Brooklyn doctor, a dedicated one with his own brand of honest values and not above making house calls when the need arises (a character trait that instantly dates the film). The story of how a clever TV man (DAVID WAYNE) tries to manipulate him in order to tell his life story on TV, is told in a very straightforward way with no unusual sub-plots or other distractions so that it ends up as a no frills entertainment and a time capsule of the late '50s-era Brooklyn, as well.

Interesting to note some top featured players had bit roles here. Television's BETSY PALMER has a more substantial part, but BILLY DEE WILLIAMS, CICELY TYSON, LUTHER ADLER, GODFREY McCAMBRIDGE and CLAUDIA McNEIL all make brief appearances.

Muni's performance was up against Charlton Heston's BEN-HUR--otherwise there's a strong possibility he might have won another Best Actor Oscar.

Directed with a sense of style by Daniel Mann and adopted by Gerald Green from his novel--and yet, oddly enough, it has the feel of a teleplay adapted for the screen.

Paul Muni came out of retirement from films to make this movie--the first in about a dozen years. According to Robert Osborne (from Turner Classic Movies) this was because Muni was so incredibly difficult to work with that he was virtually blackballed from films. However, you'd never suspect this when you see the film as his performance is flawless. Perhaps it was because Muni might have been playing a part close to heart--a cranky old doctor who was devoted to his patients but also who wasn't afraid to say exactly what was on his mind! The story begins with cranky old Paul having a patient literally dumped on his front steps in the poor part of Brooklyn. You learn that despite working as a doctor for many years, he wasn't concerned with wealth or success as many people would see it. This devotion to duty resulted in a small article in the newspaper and a TV producer (David Wayne) decided an interview show about the doc would be great television. The problem, however, is that cranky old Paul has no interest in fame and getting him to agree to be on TV was a major problem. Just when you think that perhaps he'll finally do the show, other events intercede--leading to a touching but perhaps a bit too melodramatic an ending. I liked the way the film ended but my wife thought it was a bit too much to believe. Regardless, you can't ignore the rest of this lovely film--the acting and writing were exceptional. With minimal stunts and action, the film managed to entertain and make you think.

Overall, a powerful and interesting film that is perhaps marred a tad by a bit too much sentimentality and melodrama--but not so much that you should avoid the movie.

PS--Didn't David Wayne's boss remind you of Larry Tate from "Bewitched"? See the film and you'll understand what I mean.

Paul Muni is "The Last Angry Man" in this 1959 film directed by Daniel Mann and also starring Luther Adler, David Wayne, Betsy Palmer and Billy Dee Williams. This has the look and feel of a TV show, and evidently it may have been on Playhouse 90 before being done as a feature film.

The movie is interesting for a few reasons. First of all, it concerns reality television, which is very timely. A producer (David Wayne) takes an interest in an old doctor (Muni) working in a depressed neighborhood and wants to feature him on television. He's a little hard to pin down because he's always running off to take care of one of his patients. Of special concern is a black man (Williams) who has a brain tumor.

The other reason it was interesting to me is that the producer says that 30 million people would see the TV show. He's right - back then, 30 million people could tune in to a television show. A top TV show today can garner 8-10 million viewers.

Paul Muni was an interesting actor - in the 1930s, he basically hid himself in disguises, heavy makeup and costumes in order to create a role; as he proved in films like Scarface and I Was a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, he didn't need to resort to all of that. He was, however, like Luther Adler, a stage actor from another time, and also like Adler, a graduate of the Yiddish theatre, and some of the acting here by the two of them is bigger than what we're used to seeing today, so it comes off as hammy. In one of her classes, Stella Adler said, "You don't know any great actors." That was probably a quote from the 1970s. If we didn't know any great actors in the 1970s, we sure wouldn't know any today if they whacked us over the head. What is great changes; television was one of the big reasons that acting styles changed. Also, many of the characters are overtly Jewish in a way that today may seem stereotypical. It's also fascinating to see a very young Billy Dee Williams in an early role, along with Godfrey Cambridge and Cecily Tyson in smaller parts. Again, some of the depictions here of urban problems come off as overwrought. This is the kind of movie one needs to see in light of the time it was made and not by today's standards to be better appreciated.

Paul Muni had long been out of pictures when in the fifties his success on the Broadway stage in 'Inherit the Wind' reawakened Hollywood's interest in him.

Two decades after his thirties heyday when he usually played older than his years, now in the era of television he was actually playing a genuinely old man with the result that his 68 year-old Brooklyn slum doctor Sam Abelman looks hardly distinguishable from his Louis Pasteur.

Some of the attacks the trenchant old codger makes on the drugs company that sponsors his show are still relevant today. Muni wears the makeup which leaves the field clear for David Wayne to play a surprisingly 'straight' role.

Paul Muni is excellent as a doctor in Brooklyn. I remember doctors like him, from when I was a child. They'd leave their dinners to get cold if a patient needed help. Now they mostly give three minutes of their time at most.

The family is allowed to be clearly Jewish. I wonder, though, what the word galoot is about. Muni keeps using it. I think of it as a sort of comic strip term, like calling a boxer a big galoot. Luther Adler, as his friend, another doctor, using some Yiddish.

David Wayne is thoroughly convincing as the crass TV man who decides doc's story would sell pills for his network's sponsor. Everyone is good, really,.

Though the patient we see Muni treating is black, it is not a forced racial drama. His played by Billy Dee Williams and the fine Claudia McNeil is his mother.

I feel this movie tugging on my sleeve and saying, "Hey! Hey! Look how significant I am!" It isn't a great movie but it does its job well and Muni is superb.