Where It's At

The extraordinary Rosemary Forsyth is the main reason to see this flick. Why she never became a bigger store may never be known. But she is exceptional and steals every scene she's in. Garson Kanin directed this piece of fluff and the cast is first rate, with Robert Drivas and Brenda Vaccaro especially memorable. A "9" out of "10."

Garson Kanin wrote and directed this look at "modern day" Las Vegas and the gap between generations, his first directorial effort since the 1940s! David Janssen is somewhat miscast as a big-shot casino owner who reunites with his son (Robert Drivas, who looks disconcertingly like an older Jason Bateman). Janssen approaches every scene the same way: defensively, with a chip on his shoulder. Playing this role cool and laid-back is asking too much from Janssen, who barks at everyone like a grouchy put-upon husband (he even chews out Don Rickles and makes him cry!). His son, a ne'er-do-well in search of his own identity, makes hip comments about how young people look down on Vegas (give them another ten years), and his disapproval of Dad's lifestyle causes friction. Brenda Vaccaro is cute as a self-conscious secretary and Edy Willaims has a fun bit as a showgirl at an audition. Unfortunately, "Where It's At" doesn't have much else going for it other than the now-dated ruminations on ethics between adults and their kids, some quick T&A shots and amusingly jaded satirical bits on the high-stakes world of gambling--most of which has been covered by now, ad nauseum. ** from ****

Whilst I would agree that Rosemary Forsyth is a great reason to watch this film, there are other points in favour of Where It's At. David Janssen plays a Type A casino owner who tries to bring his son (Robert Drivas, in a low key but effective performance) into the business. Shot on location at Las Vegas Caesar's Palace, this is a trip down memory lane for anyone who spent time in that city of sin back in the '70s. You'll see lots of big names in lights on marquees, but alas, Totie Fields is not amongst them. Anyhoo, the canny Drivas turns the tables on his father, leading to an unlikely though plausible family hug at the end of the picture.

Another interesting aspect of Drivas' character is the screenplay's refusal to commit on his sexuality. He's presented with willing female partners throughout the film (including the astonishing Edy Williams and cute as a button Brenda Vaccaro) but never consummates the relationship, and doubt is repeatedly cast on his manhood. I don't know if Drivas was gay, but the fact that he died of AIDS at the age of 48 lends a bittersweet piquancy to his performance here. All in all, an interesting film that will keep your attention.

Whether the son was gay was settled by the middle of the film. His sexuality was of no importance to the movie. As to the statement that he did not consummate any relationship. I can only say he must have been watching a different movie.

One of the most fascinating things about the movie was that the shot of Caesar's Palace pool area showed a vast empty space space behind the hotel. Another is that all the main characters in the movie smoked quite a bit - it is a bit jarring to current sensibilities. Brenda Vacarro was great and was the best thing about the movie. David Jansen also did a good job. He played the part much as I would have thought Clark Gable would have played it. My main problem with the movie was that i thought the son was miscast. He was supposed to be an idealist but he seemed a bit slimy to me right from the start.

I stumbled onto this movie when I was eBay'ing Caesars Palace stuff, as I'm enamoured with its rich Vegas history as the last of the original luxury resorts still standing in good condition (unless you count Bally's, the original MGM Grand). In that respect, this movie delivers full-force. You're given a grand tour of the Caesars property,which in spite of all the renovations and additions they've done over the 40 years it's been open, looks alarmingly similar. As a film overall, the plot is somewhat difficult to follow, thanks in large part to the horrendous editing. And when I say horrendous, I'm not using that word lightly. There's a lot of spliced-in, second-long snippets of Vegas traffic, casino crowds, and even a scene where the Robert Drivas character is having a conversation with his father about how much he's grown up, and without any explanation, he (Drivas) goes (in those infamous snippets) from being himself, to a baby, to a little boy, and then back to himself while talking back and forth with his father. (That doesn't give away any plot details; if anything, one can be prepared for it and maybe they won't be as flabbergasted as I was by the editing.) The film has aged well otherwise, and has a good message about the inherent differences between a father and his son that most guys could relate to in some form or fashion.