Où est passée mon idole?

Hilarious film about a Sid Caesar-like comedy series where the special guest is a legendary swashbuckler movie idol who is more known for taking to drink, than for his acting credits. O'Toole shines as Alan Swann, the swashbuckler on his first live television series. Bologna is priceless as the Sid Caesar-like star of the comedy show. Baker is also wonderful as the young comedy writer assigned to watch Swann's every move. There is great support from Bill Macy, excellent as the show's head writer; Green as the show's producer; Hoffman as a comedy writer who only whispers how he feels...only to speak at the end of the film and Kazan, who is simply divine as Baker's mother. The film is a fine slice of old fashioned comedy with great slapstick and dialogue with lots of zap and zing. Director Benjamin shines in his first venture behind the camera. O'Toole was Oscar nominated.

The best movies have moments -- scenes so powerful, or simply so note-perfect, that they live on in your memory after the plot is forgotten.

"My Favorite Year" has more than its share of these.

Other reviewers on this page have singled out the dinner at Belle Mae Steinberg Carioca's (Lainie Kazan's) Brooklyn apartment. They might also have mentioned the scene in which a titanically intoxicated Alan Swann (O'Toole)essays to "shimmy down" the side of a building, using a fire hose as rapelling gear, or the farcically climactic fight scene on live 50's TV.

But two other moments resonate even more strongly; they explain completely why Peter O'Toole was cast in this otherwise comedic role.

In the first, O'Toole's character interrupts his own plans for an evening of debauchery to fulfill a fantasy by dancing with an aging, but still glorious Gloria Stuart. Both onscreen and off, the audience is spellbound in the midst of the slapstick as these two senior-citizen actors seize the screen for the duration of their waltz.

Even more compelling is an important scene later in the movie in which Swann makes a quick trip to visit a young daughter whom he hasn't seen in years. He watches her from the car, but can't bring himself to get out and speak to her. The scene is played completely without dialogue. With the camera focused tightly on the warring emotions which play across O'Toole's face, no dialogue is necessary. It's a powerful, lump-in-the-throat moment every divorced dad will recognize.

I join others on this page in urging you to rent this movie for the laughs. As you laugh, however, stay alert for two of the truest moments ever placed on film. Enjoy.

Unaware of Mel Brooks's uncredited contribution and of most of the obvious parallels to real life, I began watching this and was eventually surprised I had heard so little of this minor nugget. While it is actually true that the humour here isn't too original, the execution is so irresistibly sure all can be forgiven. Even certain emotional, life lesson -like moments didn't bother me, for they have been done with utmost class.

The film flows flawlessly through its duration, and hardly anything seems out of place; there's no forced (I stress that word) emotionality to be found. Those things alone are something you don't often get. It has a splendid look to it, with the bright colours and the design, the costumes contributing to the wonderfully old-fashioned and fresh feel it has (how convenient).

The script is full of almost-priceless moments and witty one-liners and otherwise hilarious dialogue. I would imagine the film is of high re-watch value. It is by no means without its share of problems, though. As said, there's little that's not been done elsewhere, but the finished film works so well as a whole I can but say that all the praise is deserved. Needless to say, while the rest of the cast delivers, it is O'Toole's magnificently (un)steady and hilarious performance that lifts this one to heights.

Really fun movie, with a tone and style all its own. It has the same zippy sitcom character of the set which is its main stage, and the comedic acting is often over the top. Yet it drives through some very subtle and deep ideas about what makes a celebrity tick, the price culture extracts from its most ballyhooed figures, and the scars divorce and drink can leave on those with the smoothest of surfaces.

The secret to this film's success is O'Toole, who gives up some of his most intimate and affecting moments on screen and intersperses them with ass-over-elbow feats of physical schtick that would make a Ritz Brother proud. What a shock we never saw much else from him after this tour de force. Richard Benjamin did go on to direct other films like "Shoot The Moon," but he never managed to get it all absolutely right the way he did here. It's so note-perfect, from the opening shot of midtown Manhattan 1954 with the cars, outfits, and bustle all coming together beneath the strains of Les Paul and Mary Ford's "How High The Moon" into a tight closeup of Benjy Stone carrying a cardboard cutout of his hero, Alan Swann, through an uncaring, jostling crowd.

I almost wish they could have made a sitcom featuring the King Kaiser crew, with of course Joseph Balogna, Bill Macy, Adolph Green and the rest all reprising their roles in a kind of "Remember WENN"-style show. O, what roads left untravelled. Balogna is so good, managing to carry off his Sid Caesar-inspired role with the same kind of aplomb that made the original Caesar early television's most dynamic and celebrated comedy performer. There's a nice scene early on where Stone sticks up for a prone Swann by telling Kaiser he can't fire the swashbuckler. "You're a big star now, and I'm sure you always will be," Benjy says. "But suppose, and I know it will never happen, you end up like this. I hope nobody does to you what you're doing to him." Of course Caesar did end up like this, strung out on substance-use problems that derailed his post-50s career, and knowing that gives the scene, both funny and tension-filled, a certain undertone of poignancy for those in the know.

Mark Linn-Baker could have taken it down a notch or two, and the Brooklyn idyll was to die for, and not in a good way. I'd like to know how the hell I'm supposed to lock lips with the woman of my dreams by stuffing my face with Chinese food and showing her old movies, but I don't think my repeated viewings have helped my love life much. It has given me many hours of pleasure though. This is one film that keeps on giving. With lines like "Plastered? So are some of the finest erections in Europe" "These must be his drinking socks" and "Tongue...Death," how can it do anything less?

Hilarious, an unexpected joy. The laughs keep coming, thanks to an expert cast and a big dose of Jewish humor. No one seems in charge of getting the weekly TV show together for an audience of 20-million. Instead, everyone backstage appears to be rushing around like spinning tops. Even the alleged star King Kaiser (Bologna) can't seem to keep the order of his skits straight. Looks to me like bibulous guest star Alan Swann (O'Toole) should fit right in, drunk or sober. Then there's poor young schlemiel (Linn-Baker) who gets to baby-sit Swann when not pursuing a fruitless romance with the comely K.C. (Harper). Mix in a bunch of mobsters who don't like being made fun of, and you've got a finale to end all finales, even if the mayhem is every TV producer's nightmare.

Now I'm really curious whether the old Sid Caesar show was really as wild backstage as the movie presents it. At the time, I was a faithful watcher, so the hijinks here come as a special revelation. But what else could you expect from backstage characters like Caesar's writers Mel Brooks and Woody Allen. Anyhow, this was Dick Benjamin's first directorial outing even though you'd never know it. Then too, credit O'Toole with coming up with a really sly performance that alternates between drunken stupor and charming finesse. I particularly like it when Swann reveals his real self but still shifts gears into the movie swashbuckler when needed.

All in all, it's a wacko comedy well deserving its place on Premiere's Top 50 comedies of all time.