Las Vegas, un couple

Seeing "The Only Game In Town" for the first time forty odd years after it was made is a very special treat for anyone who loves film and film history. This was going to be George Steven's last film. A great director, a pioneer. Here he's directing Elizabeth Taylor for the third time, after "A Place In The Sun" and "Giant". That alone makes "The Only Game In Town" a collector's piece. Elizabeth Taylor clearly trusted George Stevens completely and for good reason. She is spectacular. Every close up is like a personal, private experience. Warren Beatty is perfect here and he turned down "Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid" to work with George Stevens. Good for him. A delicious treat.

This rarity, the last film to be directed by the great George Stevens (Shane, Giant) was shown on Turner Classic Movies (TCM).

Typically of the sort of talky romantic mush that Taylor did at this point in her career, it's set in Las Vegas. She's described as being a chorus girl (a 38 year-old one, if my maths is correct) and Beatty, a handsome club piano player, who happens to have a history of gambling woes.

He wants enough money to leave this town of temptation and bad memories, she wants him. And, when 5 year standing flame, the older, and married Charles Braswell, comes back to her, saying he's now divorced and wants to whisk her off to England, cue battle of words, emotions - and the usual. So, who will win her heart? Obviously, neither are suitable but this Hollywood!

It's largely set-bound and often argumentative; Beatty is charismatically watchable but Taylor is just doing the same act and routine, whilst Braswell, intentionally cast as the solid, boring one, is just that. Being (I guess, I couldn't find an age rating) a PG certificate, there's no sex or swearing, both of which, frankly would have added a bit of 'life' into the mix. A jazz score by Maurice Jarre does add atmosphere, though, with melancholic saxophone solos wailing into the night, which helps.

Whilst never quite slipping into tedium, the near two hour running time hardly helps but at least it looks good, with good colour and production values. There are a few casino scenes for those that like such. It's based on a play by Frank D Gilroy, who also adapted it and like so many similar dramas from theatrical sources, you can't help feeling that it'd work better on stage.

So, is it worth watching? If it comes on TV or if you know someone with a copy, yes; you won't see anything new but Lizzy Taylor still is Elizabeth Taylor and Beatty keeps it ticking over nicely. But otherwise, unless you hold a special interest in any of the actors, or the play, then, it's hardly worth pursuing.

...can now be held for the latter part of Elizabeth Taylors career. After The Taming of the Shrew(1967) it all seemed to go down hill. Check out any post Shrew movies and you will see what I mean. Here, in The Only Game, in Town Beatty and Taylor are jaded and cynical workers and lovers trying to escape Vegas, but both have their problems. Beatty is a compulsive gambler and Taylor is a cold fish unable to communicate love for fear of abandonment. It's a subtle love story and comedy that has some pretty good moments even though it runs a little slow. Don't expect anything amazing but its worth a look.

So full of holes in plot and characterization that you must wonder how this was considered a finished product - for stage or screen.

Taylor, who is neither built like a chorine nor moves like one, becomes involved with a boyish Beatty, who, according to the story, is two years older than she. (Even the makeup department had their problems with this one.) Afraid to commit herself emotionally because she's seen too much of the sordid sides of life and love, she nevertheless ends up committing herself totally to a compulsive gambler. That he has undergone some type of catharsis and will gamble no more is something she is ready to believe, but, I fear, the audience is not - especially since he has just gambled away his long-sought ticket out of Las Vegas. What she has to offer him (or any man) in the way of understanding, companionship, support and stability is very much open to question. Her own ticket out of Las Vegas, in the person of a married boyfriend who has-against all expectations-divorced his wife in order to marry her, is rejected for an uncertain future as a compulsive gambler's woman. Why? Unless you are prepared to blindly accept the catch-all "because she loves him," you won't find the answer in this picture. Speaking of fantasy, although she proudly insists that she has never taken money from any man, she lives in a beautifully-furnished apartment and has an extensive, very stylish wardrobe - notwithstanding her pointing out (for our benefit, I suppose) that her jewelry is not costly and her furs are not real. Is she lying about her source of income? If so, it is inconsistent with a character who is presented as being emotionally honest, however confused she might be. If her claim is to be taken literally, how can she manage such a lifestyle on a chorus girl's salary?

There is lots more that doesn't ring true in a picture that fails to build, fails to involve the viewer, and ultimately falls flat.

Frank D. Gilroy adapted his unsuccessful two-act play about an aging Las Vegas showgirl (Elizabeth Taylor) who picks up the piano player (Warren Beatty) in a cocktail lounge one night after work. He's a gambler who can't be trusted with money; she's on the rebound after her married lover returned to his wife. It's an oddly old-fashioned tale with nothing particularly dramatic in the set-up; the pressing issues seem to be her loneliness and his need to win big. The critics pounced on the picture, not because of Gilroy's writing or George Stevens' direction or the performances--but because of the budget ($11M), inflated by Taylor's insistence the film's interiors be shot in Paris, France (so she could be close to husband Richard Burton). Despite the wigs and insistent soft-focus close-ups, Taylor comes close to finding an interesting character here; she isn't convincing as a showgirl (shot from the shoulders up), and she doesn't exactly sizzle with Beatty, but she's easily bruised and vulnerable, and lovely when she needs to be. Beatty (filling in for Frank Sinatra, who had prior commitments) plays his dryly sarcastic role with a touch of eccentricity; he's supposed to be younger and reckless, a wild card, but some scenes--like a hopeless fishing excursion at Lake Mead (using a green screen)--are beyond his control. The color scheme of Taylor's apartment (where we're stuck most of the time)--in avocado green and gold--isn't glamorous, but the rest of the movie is. Cinematographer Henri Decae gives the picture a touch of fake-Vegas sparkle which is appealing, and all the exteriors on-location look terrific (Las Vegas becomes a big, shiny department store). What doesn't work is the back-end of Gilroy's second act, wherein Taylor hesitates over Beatty's marriage proposal. Their conversation is supposed to be a dissection of why men and women marry, what keeps them together and why the participants eventually get restless--but it goes on and on, grinding the movie to a halt. Had Stevens (whose last film this was) given us something more--a final visual zinger or a twist--"The Only Game In Town" may actually be worth a second glance. As it is, it fades in the stretch as well as in the memory. **1/2 from ****