OVP: Who is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me?

Film: Who is Harry Kellerman and Why is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me? (1971)

Stars: Dustin Hoffman, Dom DeLuise, Barbara Harris, Jack Warden

Director: Ulu Grosbard

Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Supporting Actress-Barbara Harris)

Snap Judgment Ranking: 1/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2021 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different one Alfred Hitchcock's Leading Ladies.  This month, our focus is on Barbara Harris-click here to learn more about Ms. Harris (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

By the time Barbara Harris had made her film debut in 1965's A Thousand Clowns, she was already a pretty big name, at least in the industry.  Harris had founded the now-legendary Chicago improvisational Second City by this time, getting a Tony nomination for her work.  Just before A Thousand Clowns would be released, she opened in the (then critically-mixed) Richard Rodgers musical On a Clear Day You Can See Forever, which earned her a second Tony nomination.  While A Thousand Clowns won Harris a Golden Globe nomination, it didn't turn into major film stardom, though with Harris (who took frequent self-imposed breaks from acting) it was always hard to tell how much of that was the actress & how much of that was Hollywood.  She returned to the stage, finally winning a Tony for what would be considered her most significant stage work in The Apple Tree, but while she appeared in films (including Neil Simon's Plaza Suite), she wouldn't be back into awards conversations until 1971, when she won her sole Oscar nomination for the bonkers-monikered Who is Harry Kellerman and Why is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me (the longest titled film ever cited for an acting Oscar).

(Spoilers Ahead) The story of Harry Kellerman is not about Barbara Harris, and in fact it's not really about Harry Kellerman, but instead about Georgie Solloway (Hoffman), a successful rock composer going through a moment-of-crisis because a man named Harry Kellerman keeps calling his lovers (past & present) and confessing lies about him.  He struggles to understand who Harry is, and through both moments of quiet introspection and conversations with his therapist (Warden), which frequently turn into elaborate fantasy sequences with Warden taking on different accents & personas, he rehashes his life.  We see the women that Georgie has loved, but because of his inability to commit or take responsibility, has lost as a result.  One of these women, Allison (Harris) is a woman that he's recently met at an audition, and whom he feels a connection for but you also get the sense that he will once again blow it.  In the last sequence, which it's difficult to tell at this point if it's reality or what is actually happening, it's revealed that Georgie is in fact Harry Kellerman, and has been calling these women to confess the worst parts of himself...right before he crashes into a mountain side.

This crash is part of the most interesting part of Harry Kellerman, as it's one of many moments in the film that Georgie kills himself, or watches others kill themselves.  As a result, it's hard to tell if he does, in fact, kill himself over the close of the film by crashing his plane into the Manhattan skyline, or if this is yet another indulgent fantasy of Georgie's.  This would be more interesting if it felt like it was part of a cogent storyline, but the problem with Harry Kellerman is that it's a total mess.  Even if you grant some leeway for the 1970's & the experimental nature of this type of filmmaking, Harry makes no sense.  There is no grounding in reality, and the film isn't strong enough on its merits to simply be a series of vignettes.  Hoffman, a fine actor & good at playing a narcissist, doesn't give us enough humanity for Georgie, who comes off as a jackass (honestly-Harry Kellerman is saying these terrible things about you because you're a terrible person), and there's not enough catharsis in the final moments to change that opinion.

That being said, if you can make it through 80 minutes of dreck, Harris is very good in this movie and while I'm shocked that the Academy noticed such a performance (Maureen Stapleton in Plaza Suite, which also starred Harris, or Eileen Brennan in The Last Picture Show would've been more traditional nominations), it's nice that they did considering she'd never be cited again.  Her Allison gets two big scenes in the movie, and Harris nails them both, giving us far beyond what's on the page (a struggling woman, attempting to understand her life).  There's a speech where she talks about the trouble of being 34 ("not old, but never again young") that literally any person in their thirties has thought countless times before.  Harris stands out, which is what she tended to do in her brief career, and is a lantern in a dreadful storm throughout Harry Kellerman, a movie not remotely as interesting as its title.

OVP: The Verdict (1982)

Film: The Verdict (1982)
Stars: Paul Newman, Charlotte Rampling, Jack Warden, James Mason, Milo O'Shea
Director: Sidney Lumet
Oscar History: 5 nominations (Best Picture, Director, Actor-Paul Newman, Supporting Actor-James Mason, Adapted Screenplay)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

If you look hard enough, the guy in the tan suit & striped tie in the top right
next to the woman with the perm is a very famous future movie star-
do you know who it is?

Few film genres were destroyed more resoundingly by television than the courtroom drama.  In fact, I'm still kind of stunned when a movie like Just Mercy shows up in theaters as it feels like a western or musical randomly getting a retread.  Television almost completely took over the genre, with everything from Perry Mason to Law & Order to NCIS picking up the pieces of a legal drama.  Films of this genre almost always feel worn or tired at this point, as a result, and when I recently caught a classic in the genre, The Verdict, it was a struggle to get by this genre bias, even as it was apparent that this was a quality film.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie focuses on Frank Galvin (Newman), a largely disgraced attorney who was once accused of jury tampering, in the twilight of his career.  He's an alcoholic ambulance chaser, someone who barely makes rent, and is given a bone when he is sent a medical malpractice case by his friend Mickey (Warden) that seems certain to settle out of court (read: an easy payday).  Frank, though, wants to take the case to court, and refuses the out-of-court settlement (to the chagrin of the victims' relatives), and has to go toe-to-toe with the hospital's legal defense team, headed by Ed Concannon (Mason), a cutthroat lawyer.  The case then follows as Concannon's team goes to great lengths (scaring off witnesses and hiring a woman, Laura, played by Rampling, to seduce Frank & feed him information).  In the end, though, a nurse that had been on-duty confesses that the hospital had put the patient under anesthesia even though she had recently eaten, thus causing her current medical predicament.  Frank wins the case, and is left wondering whether or not his relationship with Laura is worth saving.

The Verdict gains its reputation not necessarily from the uniqueness of its plot, but the quality in which it's executed.  This is, in fact, considerably better than you'd expect from even the best Law & Order episodes because it explores the soul of some of these characters.  Newman is fantastic in the lead role as Frank.  This was during the period where everyone was sort of wondering if Newman, a decades-long Hollywood favorite, would ever get to win his competitive Oscar (spoiler alert: he would, four years later, but this year he'd be bested by Ben Kingsley), and it's easy to see why such scuttle continued with a performance this solid.  Newman's work here is grounded in not making the alcoholism Frank's totality, but part of his life.  He's a high-functioning alcoholic-he's had a dwindling career, but he's still kept his career.  Newman makes that a side effect of his life, just sitting there on the outskirts, creeping in when he needs it not to the most.  It's great acting from a champion performer.

The film won three other nominations other than its Best Picture/Actor credentials, and all of them are well-earned.  Lumet's direction is succinct, rarely giving us a shot that isn't carefully-framed, while the script is brilliant, filled with strong speeches from Newman & Mason, as well as almost no scenes that are out-of-place (I'm shocked the editing wasn't nominated).  The relationship between Newman and Rampling doesn't quite gel properly, though to no fault of either actor (I don't know if I'd have nominated Rampling or not for this-I'd need to explore the year more-and she's one of my favorite performers, but there's something off in their chemistry, him too fire and her too ice).  James Mason was correctly cited for the film, and unlike Newman, would never win an Academy Award; he would die less than two years after the release of The Verdict.  This is a proper epitaph to the actor, though, with his distinctive voice ringing not just alongside a truly villainous character, but one who is a reminder of the audience's culpability in assuming authority is usually looking out for its best interests.  The Verdict succeeds because it finds a way to not just show an underdog tale, but why underdog tales are important in the first place.

OVP: The Bachelor Party (1957)

Film: The Bachelor Party (1957)
Stars: Don Murray, E.G. Marshall, Jack Warden, Patricia Smith, Carolyn Jones, Nancy Marchand
Director: Delbert Mann
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Supporting Actress-Carolyn Jones)
Snap Judgment Rating: 3/5 stars

There are few screenwriters that merit as much name recognition as film directors-Aaron Sorkin, Dalton Trumbo, and Michael Wilson come to mind, but perhaps none is as recognizable to a certain sect of moviegoer as that of Paddy Chayefsky.  Chayefsky is one of only two men to have won three Academy Awards for screenwriting solo (the other being Woody Allen).  While The Bachelor Party didn't get him one of his three trophies, it still has his trademark kitchen sink realism on sharp display.

The film centers around five men, each in different stages of their lives and relationships: one well into his 40's worrying about paying for his child's college education (Marshall), one a swinging bachelor (Warden), one a man doing night school and realizing that his wife is having a baby (Murray), one a former philanderer turned family man, and one, of course, the groom-to-be.  The first half of the movie centers around these characters, interchangeably we see them interact with Murray, a man in that brief period in your late 20's/early 30's where you have to decide what dreams will become reality and what dreams there is no longer room to strive toward.  The bravado, the rough conversational tone of the men is classic Chayefsky, and the soft, middle income storyline is pure Delbert Mann, this film coming off of his most celebrated film, Marty, just two years earlier, which won him and Chayefsky Academy Awards.

The movie remains fascinating, not just for the shocking-for-it's time conversations that occurred (discussions of abortion, pornography, and promiscuity seem to make the film seem more appropriate 15 years later, and there are even hints at homosexuality in the reluctant, consistent cold feet of the groom-to-be).

Murray ably plays his role as the handsome man on the threshold of middle age, though his actions, particularly in the latter half of the film, become hazier and hazier, and his sudden (spoiler alert) redemption after nearly having an affair with Jones and just hours earlier suggesting his wife (Patricia Smith) consider an abortion seems like a bit of a cop-out, either on the part of Chayefsky or a nervous United Artists, trying to make sure it appealed to a wider audience.

Carolyn Jones, best known today as Morticia Adams and the ex-wife of Aaron Spelling, receives the film's only Academy Award nomination (it was her only Oscar nod as well).  She plays a character simply known as the Existentialist, and while the performance couldn't possibly be more than eight minutes in length, she makes the most of what she's given, charming Murray and showing a woman who throws herself at men to feel loved (her most famous line is, "say you love me, you don't have to mean it").  Her character gets no resolution as the film ends, however, and you're left wanting more (perhaps the best sign of a supporting actress), which is true of most of the final third of the movie.  While I would give Miyoshi Umeki a slight advantage for the win in the category that year (I haven't seen Elsa Lanchester's work in Witness for the Prosecution quite yet), I'd put Jones in a close second.  However, I have yet to be really impressed at all by any of the five performances nominated in 1957 for Supporting Actress-here's to hoping that Lanchester's work delivers.

What about you?  Have you seen The Bachelor Party (notoriously difficult to find on VHS/DVD)?  Do you have trouble not thinking of Carolyn Jones as the saucy goth "Tish?"  And whom should the Academy have thrown into the Best Supporting Actress race of 1957?