A fine film, Tammy and the Bachelor reveals that "B" films often give us more than their bigger, more glossy cousins. Notice what's good about Tammy and the Bachelor, and you will find that nearly everything about it is well-done. First, its script: almost fully visual, it develops three distinct, well-defined characters through set pieces in its first quarter hour, telling us everything we need to know about each -- including personal relationships, all of which are healthy though fully human. There's an absence of sinister intent, malice, self-loathing; Tammy has normal, natural human needs which she expresses with a degree of self-respect which would be disdained by a filmmaker today as naive. Setting is filmed beautifully, simply, naturally well-lit, visually interesting, full of the character which defines the personalities (Tammy the swamp child, Peter the affluent southern gentleman.) Acted superbly: there is no hamming, no larger-than-life glamor which would ring false. Withal, of course, there is little conflict in the film: only Tammy's adolescent coming-of-age in a modern world. But wait: what larger theme is there? All right -- this is not Scenes from a Marriage; Tammy cannot compete with Cabiria; the directing is not David Lean's, and the budget is not Cleopatra's. Reynolds is not Monroe and Nielsen is not Brando. But put them together with Walter Brennan and Fay Wray and a good script and a good cinematographer and the result is this film, which has its own light and sentimental rewards. And a great title song, one of the gems of 1950's screen musings.
