Utterly delightful boulevard comedy!
Lorenzo Semple's more deftly titled comedy, THE GOLDEN FLEECING, was missing something on Broadway. Even with master comedy director Abe Burrows at the helm and TV "name" Tom Poston in the lead (am I the only one who finds him dull?), it couldn't manage a better booking than the intimate Henry Miller's Theatre nor a run of more than 84 performances (Oct. 15 - Dec. 26, 1959) - ultimately bumped for the hit run of a serious Civil War drama, THE ANDERSONVILLE TRIAL which started 4 days later.
The Broadway run DID get a movie sale for Semple however, and hallelujah! Hollywood knew just how to handle the property. They polished the script, filled the roles with top drawer dramatic and farce players, changed the title to something sort of stupid, but which innocently implied sex (THE HONEYMOON MACHINE) and gave it a "Grade A" CinemaScope production.
Great farces MUST be played absolutely straight or they fall flat, and Dean Jagger's Admiral Fitch is a perfect example: he wraps up all the loose ends in a deadpan final confrontation even funnier than the "Hello, Daddy" court room scene in Streisand's hilarious WHAT'S UP DOC. The perfectly executed physical comedy of Jack Weston's drunken ballet on a hotel ledge is still funny (if possibly non-PC with the passing years), but probably the least funny part of this carefully scripted comedy caper film.
Steve McQueen, exuding more sex appeal than is normally on display in this sort of boulevard comedy, is a triumph his only unalloyed comedy role, showing a masterful gift for comic timing and farce delivery that makes it tragic he didn't find the genre to his taste despite the good notices he deserved and got. He's matched every step of the way by his fellow conspirators - especially Jim Hutton as the computer genius in a scam to use a Navy computer (the "machine" of the title) to perfect a "system" to break the bank at the Venice casino.
Naturally, romance (Paula Prentiss is a standout as a diplomat's straying fiancé - blind without her glasses) and other complications (like Cold War paranoia) ensue, and the result is one of those irresistible feel-good films which only gets better with repeated viewing.
There are those who just don't get the "well made" comedy, and since Hollywood rarely makes them anymore (they were a staple in the 1960's), we're not educating the palate for them these days. That's a pity, but for those who still DO enjoy them, this is one of the best. Take a 90 minute vacation on the Mediterranian!
The Broadway run DID get a movie sale for Semple however, and hallelujah! Hollywood knew just how to handle the property. They polished the script, filled the roles with top drawer dramatic and farce players, changed the title to something sort of stupid, but which innocently implied sex (THE HONEYMOON MACHINE) and gave it a "Grade A" CinemaScope production.
Great farces MUST be played absolutely straight or they fall flat, and Dean Jagger's Admiral Fitch is a perfect example: he wraps up all the loose ends in a deadpan final confrontation even funnier than the "Hello, Daddy" court room scene in Streisand's hilarious WHAT'S UP DOC. The perfectly executed physical comedy of Jack Weston's drunken ballet on a hotel ledge is still funny (if possibly non-PC with the passing years), but probably the least funny part of this carefully scripted comedy caper film.
Steve McQueen, exuding more sex appeal than is normally on display in this sort of boulevard comedy, is a triumph his only unalloyed comedy role, showing a masterful gift for comic timing and farce delivery that makes it tragic he didn't find the genre to his taste despite the good notices he deserved and got. He's matched every step of the way by his fellow conspirators - especially Jim Hutton as the computer genius in a scam to use a Navy computer (the "machine" of the title) to perfect a "system" to break the bank at the Venice casino.
Naturally, romance (Paula Prentiss is a standout as a diplomat's straying fiancé - blind without her glasses) and other complications (like Cold War paranoia) ensue, and the result is one of those irresistible feel-good films which only gets better with repeated viewing.
There are those who just don't get the "well made" comedy, and since Hollywood rarely makes them anymore (they were a staple in the 1960's), we're not educating the palate for them these days. That's a pity, but for those who still DO enjoy them, this is one of the best. Take a 90 minute vacation on the Mediterranian!
- eschetic
- May 30, 2005