Bunny O'Hare

An aging widow in New Mexico is left homeless after the bank forecloses on her property and tears down the house; she chances to meet a retired bank robber still on the lam and asks him to teach her to rob the bank which took her to the cleaners. Still-relevant sociological observations (occasionally cutting quite deep) played for TV-type yuks, a mixture which had professional critics groaning in 1971. Indeed, the outré bits of business involving the hold-ups are sloppy, and Jack Cassidy gives a grueling performance as a sleazy police lieutenant. Still, Bette Davis is very fine in the lead; natural, unglamorous and earthy, she's not a tough cookie nor a weeping willow--and when she chit-chats with Ernest Borgnine and her famous voice breaks mid-sentence, she's also endearing. Borgnine looks a bit incredulous at being caught in this scenario, but he doesn't embarrass himself and works well with Bette (their second picture together after 1956's "The Catered Affair"). In fact, most of the film is entertaining on a minor level, with something to say about oldsters and their financial plight. **1/2 from ****

Excellent movie, I just wish it was available on any format. The above summary is a line in the movie that I remember the most. Spoken by Bunny herself. I can't wait to see this movie again. If you like Bette, you'll like this movie.

I'm not sure if this was a feature or a TV movie. It came off like a TV movie.

It's cute. Davis plays Bunny O'Hare, a woman whose house is not only foreclosed on, but demolished. She hooks up with Bill (Borgnine) who goes around collecting toilets and sells them in Mexico. She finds out he was a bank robber, and he's wanted, so she asks him to teach her the robbing ropes.

The two deck themselves out as hippies and motorcycle around robbing banks. The only reason Bunny is robbing banks is to help her kids - her daughter's husband is an ex-butcher trying to get back into the meat business, but he doesn't want to cut liver - he needs intensive therapy.

Her son (John Astin) is a playboy who tells her he has business plans but in reality is a gambler in constant trouble with loan sharks. This is what she's wasting her time on.

Jack Cassidy has a cartoony role as a police lieutenant who would be brought up on charges in the #metoo movement. He speaks for the adults - he hates, hates hippies Nixon, another lover of my generation, adorns his walls - with Agnew.

This film had potential but really misses the mark. Davis and Borgnine are very good - she's quite subdued in the role. Borgnine is very sweet as her partner in crime. I did like the ending. However, if this wasn't a TV movie, it should have been.

This film belongs to an enigmatic category I refer to as Extinct. No VHS or DVD release. Only a TV broadcast now and then. It deserves more, as do most extinct films: they should all be available for streaming or download on the web.

After seeing it yesterday on THIS, the new CBS digital broadcast sub-channel, I found Delaney's performance to be the highlight. Her ambivalent, playful acquiescence must epitomize the fate of countless intelligent women, even to this day. I'm no feminist, but I can empathize. She's clearly the superior cop. But the best she can do is gently nudge her male boss in the right direction. And when he errs, she can't correct him, lest he lose face. Civilization would probably be a hundred years further along by now if we humans weren't so rigidly patriarchal. Too many great women have been relegated to the sidelines. Including Delaney, whose film career apparently ended here.

Davis and Borgnine, meanwhile, help us understand the unfortunate issue of exploitative adult children. They've grown up, but they don't want to be independent. They happily parasitize their aging parents, who in Bette Davis' case, actually risk life and limb to procure infusions of cash in response to concocted, irresponsible excuses. Her progeny's utter lack of conscience was bewildering to me. I shudder to think how many elderly grandparents sympathize with Bunny's futile situation. There are probably millions of real-life parent-parasites in the world, preying upon their progenitors' unconditional affections.

This is a multifaceted film. Thanks to its stars, it's engaging too.

Bette Davis is a doting mother who, at the outset of this film, is evicted from her house because she has defaulted on her payments. The reason she is in such dire financial straits is because she is incapable of seeing what a pair of seedy, money-grubbing low-lifes her son and daughter are. After hitching a ride from Ernie Borgnine (who has sort of repossessed her toilet pan!) she blackmails him into helping her rob the bank that has thrown her out of her home.

This mess of a movie features one movie legend at a career low and one b-list star who, to me, seemed to get by on enthusiasm and likability rather than acting skill. We can only wonder what dire straits Davis herself must have been in to accept a starring role in a movie with so few redeemable aspects. The plot is almost non-existent, and a ham-fisted script gives Davis and Borgnine no opportunity to develop any kind of chemistry. But then whoever wrote this rubbish thought it would be a blast to have Davis and Borgnine dressed as hippies. A sub-plot featuring the inept detective on their case is mind-blowingly stupid.