Independent Exhibitors Film Bulletin (1963)

"A New Kind of Love" Su4Ue44 1£ctfi«$ O O Plus Farce lacks the spark of spontaneity. Newman, Woodward, Ritter for marquee. Should be OK grosser in metropolitan markets. This misses by a long distance being the gay, carefree romantic farce it obviously was intended to be. Despite the presence of two such competent performers as Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward (or, perhaps, because of them) "A New Kind of Love" lacks the verve and spontaneity that is the foundation for this kind of plotting. The two stars appear a little ill at ease rushing frantically through their countless variations on a one-joke theme. Their ennui is compensated for to some extent by the spirited playing of Thelma Ritter, George Tobias, and Eva Gabor — a triumvirate that surely represents the year's most unorthodox romantic triangle. Returns should be aboveaverage in metropolitan non-action situations, but not in the smaller towns or family houses. A gaudy Technicolored Parisian background, a tour of the city's leading fashion houses, and a brief appearance by Maurice Chevalier (singing a medley of his hit tunes) won't fool viewers into mistaking this Paramount release for sophisticated comedy. Producer-director-writer Melville Shavelson has introduced a few attempts at mild satire, but he is most successful when borrowing liberally from Joe Miller's joke bag. Frank Sinatra sings his lilting interpretation of the title tune over the credits, and pianist-composer Erroll Garner has doodled some innocuous background themes. The story is the one about the girl fashion consultant (Joanne Woodward) named "Sam" — everyone mistakes her for a boy. Reporter Paul Newman meets her at the men's room on an airliner, so his confusion is understandable. Poor "Sam", short for Samantha, arrives in Paris and is so embarrassed when a prostitute tries to solicit from her, that she buys a blonde wig and a tight dress and sets up shop at a sidewalk bistro. Newman, looking for material for a feature story, mistakes her for a prostitute, and she leads him on by telling lurid, imaginary stories about her past. When she runs out of variations on "Camille ', she borrows a story from woman-of-the-world Eva Gabor who has been trying to steal "Sam's" boss (George Tobias) from his long-waiting, ever-patient "business companion ", Thelma Ritter. When "Sam's" version of Miss Gabor's romance is featured in Newman's article, Tobias gives Miss Gabor the heave-ho. Miss Ritter jumps into the breach, entices him with a bowl of onion soup, and receives, in return, a proposal of marriage. By this time, Newman has discovered his supposed prostitute's identity, but since she doesn't know that he knows, he takes her up to his apartment and offers her money. He gets marriage. Paramount. 105 minutes. Paul Newman, Joanne Woodward. Produced and directed by Melville Shavelson. "Lord of the Flies" Will get early response in art and class houses, but word-of -mouth will cut grosses. Amateurish in parts. The popularity of William Golding's allegorical novel will win good early response in art houses and theatres in college towns, but disappointed word-of-mouth will be damaging. Its potential is very limited in the general market. The Lewis AllenDana Hodgdon production, produced by Allen, was filmed in Puerto Rico with a cast of 40 schoolboys, recruited mostly from England. Director Peter Brook worked from a vague outline, but allowed the children, non-professionals all, to improvise the dialogue and situations as they went along. The result is sometimes powerful — especially in the climactic scenes of sav agery, but in some parts it is surprisingly amateurish. It is impossible to become emotionally involved when, in key dramatic scenes, boys in the background are seen making faces at the cameraman. The dialogue sometimes rings true, as when one youngster tells a story about his home town, but most of it is rather trite. Much of the acting is atrocious, and the camera work by Tom Hollyman is too consciously arty and, in its frequent use of stop-motion techniques, cliched. Golding's parable concerns a group of boys, evacuees from a nuclear war, whose plane crashes on an uninhabited tropical island. One group, led by James Aubrey, tries to establish a democratic government, but another, a gang of choir boys headed by Tom Chapin, rejects any rules or restrictions. Dubbing themselves "the hunters," they resort to jungle rule and attempt to wrest control from Aubrey's group. A fat, myopic youngster called "Piggy" (Hugh Edwards) sees both sides of the dispute and, while remaining loyal to Aubrey, tires to bring the two forces together. Becoming increasingly primitive, the boys accidently kill one youngster, then press others into service as "slaves." After "Piggy" is deliberately murdered, only Aubrey remains a threat. They set fire to the island and hunt Aubrey down to kill him. Rescue arrives in the form of a British naval ship and the boys once again become "normal" English school children. Continental Distributing Co. James Aubrey, Tom Chapin, Hugh Edwards. Produced by Lewis Allen. Directed by Peter Brook. "Wives and Lovers" S«4utC44 KcXtiK? © O PIUS Extra-marital shenanigans in the suburbs should get some laughs from city audiences. Fair marquee strength. Good, clean sex in the suburbs is the unlikely theme of this comedy that will do fair business in metropolitan areas. Not-so sophisticated suburbanites should get some laughs from the satiric swipes at their status symbols, their mores, and their drinking habits, but others, not familiar with upper-strata folkways, are apt to take it seriously, as a watered-down "Chapman Report." Hal Wallis' latest production for Paramount has a well-balanced cast and boasts some genuinely funny moments, but it wavers so uncertainly between attempts at sophisticated comedy, syrupy drama, and situation gags that viewers may feel they are watching three movies simultaneously. Janet Leigh and Van Johnson spend so much time screaming at each other that their performances become jarring, and daughter Claire Wilcox is enough to drive any man from the family hearth and any woman to drink. According to the script, though, it is Martha Hyer, vamping in typical style, and Jeremy Slate, as her male counterpart, who cause the split. Shelley Winters and Ray Walston as the couple (not married) next door enliven the proceedings with some droll, deftly played comedy. John Rich, recruited from TV, directs each scene as though he was staging a TV variety show, and Edward Anhalt's screenplay, adapted from Jay Presson's play, "The First Wife," is occasionally funny, but more often trite. Johnson, a struggling writer, suddenly hits it big, moves wife and daughter from a Manhattan slum to the suburbs. Spouse Leigh finds keeping up with the Joneses time consuming until she suspects that hubby is making time of his own with his sultry agent (Miss Hyer). Jeremy Slate, a movie star and ex-beau of Miss Hyer, turns up and makes a pass at Miss Leigh. She responds. Miss Winters and Walston root for both sides from their poolside vantage points and offer sage counsel. Johnson walks out on his wife when he finds Slate in his home at 7:00 a.m., but returns to learn that the sobering influence of alcohol (sic) prevented her from succumbing completely to another man's charms. The same thing, it seems, happened to him while under Miss Hyer's spell. Paramount. 102 minutes. Janet Leigh, Van Johnson, Shelley Winters, Martha Hyer. Produced by Hal Wallis. Directed by John Rich. Page 26 Film BULLETIN September 2, 1963