La vita privata di Henry Orient

I loved this hilarious movie as a teenager and own the video of it

as an adult. The story of two young girls who sweetly stalk a

concert pianist, played with insane panache by Peter Sellars, is

one of the nicest coming-of-age movies of that era. Set in New

York, her is a surprisingly sophisticated and gentle comedy you'll

enjoy over and over again.

Sellars's clueless, womanizing virtuoso never strikes a false

comic note. He's wildly inventive, never more so than in his

scenes with the gorgeous Paula Prentiss as the way-too-nervous

object of his lust. Playing a married woman who is flattered by his

attentions, Prentiss manages to look glamorous and on the verse

of a nervous breakdown all at once. Why this spectacularly gifted

comic actress didn't make it to the top is a mystery to me.

Angela Lansbury's socialite bitch of a mother is another one of her

classic nasty lady roles. Nobody can look down her nose with the

authority of Lansbury. Yes she got found acceptance and respect

on Broadway and on television, but she was a first-rate character

actress on screen too.

Tom Bosley is sympathetic as Tippy Walker's father and Phyllis

Thaxter exudes motherly warmth as Mary Spaeth's divorced Mom.

The Walker and Spaeth should have had futures as screen

actors. Alas, it was not to be. But they are delightful as the young

girls on the verse of womanhood, with a terrific crush on an

undeserving idol.

Nora and Nunnelly Johnson's script (he of course, a Hollywood

legend) wrote a sharp, funny and observant screenplay that is

respectful of teenagers and the adults. George Roy Hill is not a

great director, but when given good material, he rises to the

occasion as he does here. A real gem.

The sixties became The Sixties around the time of this film, 1964. There was a time, believe it or not, when kids played grown-up, instead of the other way around, as is the case today. Two cute girls are venturing from childhood to youth, in a benign Manhattan. They have a crush on a pianist-Lothario who happens to be Peter Sellers. You can imagine the complications - and the hilarity.

What makes this film so appealing is the way it portrays adolescent awakening as a completely unsordid and sweet experience. Yes, there is pathos, when the two discover how adults have turned their world into Henry Orient's world.

Although the cast is sterling all around, Tom Bosley is a standout as father to one of the girls, who helps put things to rights.

If the Kennedy assassination and Vietnam are cultural watersheds, then this film is a refreshing antidote; it gives the lie to the glib put-downs of the era by the current generation.

A truly lovely and engaging film, with surprisingly real and complex characters anchored in the perceptive viewpoints of adolescents -- their joys, confusions and hurts, paving the way for future joys, confusions and hurts. This is a remarkable film with countless moments to cherish--the adults with all their foibles, inconsistencies, concerns real or selfish--and those two girls exploring the world with wonderment and imagination born of exuberant discovery and painful denial. The feelings are so complex--it is often playful fun, but with a tinge of bittersweet wisdom that pervades practically every frame of the film. And New York. For those that love New York City, this film is a must. Filmed over 40 years ago--it is a joy to see all the familiar, beloved landmarks as they looked before. Only Woody Allen has filmed NYC with as much loving detail. From the opening scene on the East River where the girls first meet, to their first romp through the glories of Central Park (The Bow Bridge never has looked more elegant and graceful--and the Rambles never more wild and rustic), Park Avenue in the snow with the Christmas tree lights all glowing (truly capturing the magic of NYC at holiday time)--to surprising scenes of Carnegie Hall, and the wonderful Greenwich Village neighborhoods with their charming mews and meandering streets. How appropriate that the girls' discoveries should take place in this beautiful, complex city. One final comment--Elmer Bernstein's film score is a sheer delight-befitting this delicate, but profound story--bathing the film in a musical glow as beautiful as New York City.

A few points. Elmer Bernstein's musical score is as whimsical as the young girls themselves. George Roy Hill, the director, was sensitive to the musical moods of his films. He had originally intended to be a musician and had a bachelor's in music from Yale. The photographer, Boris Kaufman, has done a splendid job of capturing New York City in the late fall and in mid winter. (He was equally perceptive in getting wintry Hoboken on film in "On the Waterfront.")

The acting is fine, surprisingly, from all the principles. The pavonine Peter Sellers usually steals every scene he's in. When he's trying to seduce Paula Prentiss his voice has an accent that sounds somewhere between Italian and Slovenian. He throws in Italian clichés but sometimes gets mixed up -- "Garcon! Due martinis, per favore." One of his funniest moments is when he's performing a terrible piano concerto. He's skipped the last two rehearsals so he's a bit lost. At one point he rolls dramatically into the upper registers (while the rest of the orchestra play checkers) and ends on a trill. He glances at the conductor who slowly shakes his head in disgust. The wrong key. Unperturbed Sellers starts the roll over again and looks to the conductor, who shakes his head again. After the third failure to find the right key, the conductor shakes his head and mouths -- very clearly and silently -- "B Flat." Satisfied, Sellers plunges ahead.

Paula Prentiss doesn't have a very large role but she's delicious both in looks and in her performance. She's so nervous, so flattered by the attention of Seller's phony pianist that she gulps and staggers slightly from time to time. When Sellers finally gets her to his apartment and begins to woo her with a paean to her "burnished shoulders" and "twin poems," she wavers while sitting on the couch and caresses her body parts as he lauds them. She never appears less than half gassed.

Angela Lansbury is in her bitchy mode here, along the lines of her mother in "The Manchurian Candidate." She never seems to go wrong, regardless of the part. Her husband, Tom Bosley, is kind of a good-natured schlub. Phyllis Thaxter looks just fine, considering that she first appeared in "Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo" more than twenty years earlier. Her sweetness might be cloying except that it seems ingrained in her real personality.

The most surprising thing in the performances are the two 14-year-old girls, neither of whom went on to a respectable movie career. They're plain charming, both goofy and funny, but smart and perceptive as well. "Gilbert" (Spaeth) comes from a warm middle-class family. We can tell because on Christmas we see them preparing a turkey and having friends over for dinner. Spaeth went on in real life to become a strong George W. Bush supporter and helped torpedo John Kerry with the Swiftboat Ads in 2004, for what it's worth.

"Valerie Campbell Boyd" (Walker) is a neurotic genius from a dysfunctional rich family. (That name is a great WASP cognomen, by the way). They're two cute kids, believe it or not, especially Tippy Walker who brings a molestable element to her role. Hill seems to recognize this and gives the PREverts in the audience a couple of slow-motion upskirt shots as the two jump over fire hydrants and dance on park benches. But it's all pretty unstressed and one would be hard put to think of a better image for two pleasant and happy kids living in a world of fantasy than to have them laughing and leaping in the air. Where do they find kids who can act so well? Walker has a way of flipping her hair back and gawkily hunching her shoulders that spells Preppiness.

The film has its serious moments but most of it is low-key humorous. I saw it in a drive-in in Riverhead, Long Island. You probably won't regret watching it.

Such an interesting film, HENRY ORIENT, poised as it is---as other viewers' comments have pointed out---between the world BTB (Before The Beatles) and ATB (no explanation necessary). In retrospect, at least, the film hints at the enormous changes to come. The film-making reflects that, as well: note George Roy Hill's cautious approximations of the Nouvelle Vague in the lyrical running-and-jumping-through-NYC section with Val and Gil. (Note, too, the androgyny of the girls' names...) I read the book many years ago and remember it as a darker, more Salinger-esquire work. But that's not to diminish the playful, often painful strengths of the film. Paula Prentiss must rank high among its charms; as must Tippy Walker. There's inchoate youth for you in those years. Val is as imaginative as she is troubled. The old ways no longer work but the new ways have yet to appear. Elizabeth ('Tippy') Walker is really wonderful, and it's been most interesting (to say the least) and a real pleasure that Ms. Walker has shared so truthfully and fully her memories of the film and a part of her life story with us. I know all fans of ORIENT wish her all the best.

Another pleasure of the film is the way it captures NYC as it was then. Being a devotee of the city, it makes me both happy and sad to see it in its 40-some year old glory. Happy because I can vicariously experience what it was like; sad because it can only be vicarious. I love NYC, it's still a fantastic city---even though Disneyfication has robbed it of so much---but I get a special thrill when I see it like it was in ORIENT.

A lot has changed,yes. Adolescence hasn't, though, and that's why the film continues to resonate. And that's why THE WORLD OF HENRY ORIENT continues to be watched and written about. That's why we care.