Il gigante di New York

1949 sleeper from RKO. At that early date pro football was still in its infancy. Thus a movie dealing with the subject must have seemed like a piece of exotica and I doubt the production made any money. Sixty years later, however, the Charles Schnee script and Jaques Tourneur direction stand as a perceptive glimpse into pro-sports at the high end, as valid now as then and definitely ahead of its time.

Star quarterback Victor Mature is a regular guy, but is drawn into the fast lane by ambitious wife Liz Scott. She's all glamor and ego, eager to hang on to her headline husband. The scenes of urban highlife and sophistication are particularly well done-- the penthouses and sleekly groomed sharks swimming around eyeing new prey. Vic's uncomfortable and senses glamorous snares, but Liz sees only social climbing opportunity, while souless, silver fox Art Baker is only too happy to oblige. In a word she strays.

On the other hand, good guy Sonny Tufts (in a tailor made part) and salt-of-the-earth wife Jeff Donnell represent the other side of Mature-- his down-to-earth side. He's drawn in both directions, and it's this conflict that sets the dramatic stage. Will he hang on to Liz and the easy life or settle for a meagre coaching job with pal Tufts. He'll have to decide because the old ticker has become a problem. In short, he's facing a crisis of values.

One scene really worth noting. The team has cut journeyman lineman Gordon Jones. He's the kind of player who eats dirt every week so the quarterback can look good. Behind him are a thousand more grunts waiting to take his place. Now he wants a piece of a tavern and a place to hang his jersey and maybe a little dignity for all the pain. Watch his quick, knowing reactions to the snobbish Liz as she ignores this "loser". What a great line when he refuses the ride next to her, saying, "The subway's good enough for me". It's a whole little morality play summed up in a few seconds.

Unfortunately the film shows its period with an unsatisfactory Hollywood ending consistent with the conventions of the day, and enough to make modern-day feminists apoplectic. Then too, the Lucille Ball role seems overdrawn and unnecessary. Nonetheless, the supporting cast is outstanding, blending easily into a smoothly executed production that again demonstrates the industry's polished level of professionalism. Definitely deserves a second look.

How interesting to see the difference in our society then versus now! When Liza receives her two slaps at the end of the movie, one more or less as punishment for things done and one to sort of set her straight, I wonder what the reactions were in audiences at the theaters. Today I suppose there would be an uproar over this for many reasons. On the other hand, we all need a "slap in the face" sometimes - male or female. Whenever we cross over that line, the one that separates my "rights" from the way we should treat others, we're elevating ourselves above everyone else. When we act like spoiled little children maybe it's okay to be treated like them? As most parents recognize (or should), their are times when the correct amount of corporal punishment administered with love is the best treatment for the lives they are shaping. Everyone should note the circumstances under which Victor's character slapped his wife, and that he did it because he loved her and wanted to save their marriage.

There are two stories here. The stronger one deals with a quarterback for the New York Chiefs pushed toward retirement by a heart murmur. This story offers interesting glimpses at the state of professional football, circa 1949. The team takes the train to "away" games, for instance, and it seems to have only one black player. And get this --making the Championship Playoffs means at least an extra $1000 for every man on the team! (But this was in an era of nickel pay-phone calls, when college football coaches made $3200 a year.)

The other story centers on the quarterback's troubled relationship with his ambitious, social-climbing wife who's not above using her seductive charm to make a success of her interior decorating business. Here again there are intriguing insights into the world of 1949, where "uppity" women had to be taken down a notch or two lest they forget their proper roles as wives and mothers.

These two stories don't merge particularly well, resulting in an awkward blend of "locker room" and "Park Avenue," and the ending seems forced and unconvincing. (This may have been due to the Production Code's dim view of divorce.) However, the cast still makes the movie worth a look, with solid work from Lucille Ball, Lloyd Nolan, Jim Backus, Art Baker, Jack Paar, etc. Lizabeth Scott -- she of the spectacular eyebrows -- seems a tad "overheated" as the self-centered wife but the script probably forced this kind of performance. Victor Mature has the better part and he acquits himself in adequate fashion. In his locker room scene he gets to strip off his shirt and thus reveal one of the great torsos in the movies. (And how gloriously it was soon to be whipped and otherwise tortured in such films as "Samson and Delilah," "The Robe," "Zarak," and "Timbuktu.") Too bad the movie as a whole isn't equal to its star's chest measurement.

Victor Mature, dour as always, is a pro football player. He ought to have hung it up long ago, and he knows it. He is married to Lizabeth Scott. Scott is very ambitious. Of course, today her ambition would seem quite logical. In 1949, it was still a little unusual for a woman not to be content with hubby's income and prestige.

These two are an odd pair. That's an aside, having little to do with whether or not the movie works -- and I do think it does.

Lloyd Nolan is excellent as the coach. Lucille Ball gives a subdued performance as his secretary.

Almost no one in this movie has what or who he or she wants. A gloom hangs over it.

Jacques Tourneur was an excellent director. This isn't his best. But I have a feeling it was a bit of a challenge for him -- a very all-American setting and plot. And he brings it off beautifully.

Pete Wilson, also known as King Football, faces a dual crisis. Diagnosed with a serious heart ailment, he learns his career is over. Wilson also must break the news to his star-struck wife, who enjoys the spotlight even more than he does.

"Easy Living" is of course an ironic title. Wilson's life, as a quarterback and as a husband, is anything but easy. As the story evolves, he must come to terms with both the loss of his livelihood and the possible end of his marriage. Victor Mature, who played gladiators both ancient and modern, does his best but he isn't quite up to the emotional demands of the role. And Lizabeth Scott, ever the ice princess, never comes across as Wilson's wife. The supporting cast, featuring Lloyd Nolan as the head coach and Lucille Ball as his son's widow, is generally stronger. Jack Paar, in one of his rare film roles, pops up as the team's PR man.

The film's climax, in which Wilson slaps his wife in desperation, could never be made today but still was acceptable in 1949. Frankly though, you can't help share Wilson's frustration with this frivolous woman and you have to wonder what you would do in his place.

Highly recommended, both as a study of mid-century social attitudes and for an early Hollywood view of the NFL