Billy May Movies

It is fairly uncommon for an untrained singer to have a vocal range of two octaves. Trained singers aspire to three octaves but sometimes fall short of that goal. It is practically unheard of to have at one's command a vocal register of four and one half octaves. Indeed, it is somewhat freakish, and musicians usually have no idea how to exploit such a phenomenon to its best advantage. The performer featured in this documentary, Yma Suma, came to the U.S. from Peru in the 1940s and enjoyed a brief popularity as an "incredible Inca princess." Not long after her U.S. career was launched, a slanderous rumor was launched that Yma was an American music student named Amy Camus, which effectively undermined her exotic appeal and ruined her career. Even so, her remarkable voice remained unchanged, and she enjoyed a revived popularity in the 1980s. Featuring clips from her performances in several films, and her '80s revival stage act, cuts from her records, and interviews with everyone except the singer herself (who declined to cooperate with this documentary), this film offers a good introduction to this truly strange and memorable career. ~ Clarke Fountain, Rovi

Ten years after the cancellation of the cornpone comedy series The Beverly Hillbillies, the property was revived -- mercifully briefly -- in the form of a two-hour movie. Originally titled Solving the Energy Crisis, The Return of the Beverly Hillbillies found Buddy Ebsen, Donna Douglas and Nancy Kulp recreating their sitcom roles as millionaire hillbilly Jed Clampett (who'd moved back to the hills after dividing up his fortune amongst his loved ones), his daughter Elly May (now the owner of a small petting zoo), and bank secretary-turned-government functionary Jane Hathaway. Max Baer Jr. took a pass on the project, thus the role of Jed's nephew Jethro Bodine-now a "sophisticated Hollywood producer"-was played by Ray Young. And with Irene Ryan (Granny) and Raymond Bailey (Milburn Drysdale) having passed on, their replacements were Imogene Coca, and former Hogan's Heroes regular Werner Klemperer as government bureaucrat C. D. Medford, Jane Hathaway's new boss. Also on hand was bluegrass musician Earl Scruggs, who with his late partner Lester Flatt has composed and performed the original Beverly Hillbillies theme song "The Ballad of Jed Clampett"; Shug Fisher and Shad Heller, who'd appeared in several 1969 episodes of the original series; and two veterans from The Beverly Hillbillies' sister series Petticoat Junction, Linda Kaye Henning and Charles Lane. The plot, if anyone cares, finds the Clampetts joining forces with Miss Jane to solve the energy shortage, using Granny's "white lightning" as a fuel substitute. As the film draws to a close, it looks as if Miss Jane and her boss Mr. Medford are about to be hitched in a good ol' Ozark wedding. Originally telecast on October 6, 1981, Return of the Beverly Hillbillies was intended as the pilot for a full-scale revival of the earlier series, but this was not to be. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Told in flashback form, Tail Gunner Joe traces the rise and fall of Wisconsin senator Joseph McCarthy (Peter Boyle). The story begins with McCarthy's judicial career, then progresses to his rise to the U.S. senate on the Republican ticket and his ultimate exploitation of the postwar "anti- communist" movement. Declaring in a 1950 speech that he personally knows of several communists in high government offices, McCarthy becomes a major political power, influencing the outcome of elections, stoking the flames of the "Red Scare" of the 1950s and ruining the reputations of several people suspected of being "commie-symps". The Senator meets his Waterloo when he takes on the US Army, accusing the military of harboring known subversives. During a televised hearing, he recklessly casts aspersions upon a young lawyer, prompting defense attorney Joseph Welch (Burgess Meredith) to mutter disconsolately "Have you no sense of decency, sir?" Television reveals McCarthy for the demagogue that he is, and soon he plunges into obscurity and acute alcoholism. He dies discredited in 1957 while still only in his forties. Tail Gunner Joe is in its own way as biased and unfair as any of Joe McCarthy's diatribes but this made-for-TV movie works as a brisk, entertaining recollection of an era in which "guilt by association" was a byword. As Joe McCarthy, Peter Boyle's performance is so convincing that it borders on the supernatural. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This third film version of the 1928 Ben Hecht/Charlie MacArthur Broadway hit The Front Page was the first one permitted to utilize all the salty profanities in the original play. Director Billy Wilder cast his two favorite leading men, Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau, as ace reporter Hildy Johnson and ruthless newspaper editor Walter Burns, respectively. The plot of the Hecht/MacArthur play remains intact: Burns pulls every underhanded game in the book to prevent Johnson from leaving his Chicago paper to get married, and in so doing the two journalists uncover a cesspool of political corruption, centered around the planned execution of anarchist Earl Williams (Austin Pendleton). Carol Burnett has an extended cameo as Williams' tart girlfriend, Mollie Malloy. The Front Page was remade for a fourth time in 1988 as Switching Channels. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This made-for-TV movie stars Lee Majors as Andy Crocker, a disillusioned Vietnam veteran. His homecoming is hardly a hero's welcome: Andy finds that his girl friend is married, his business is in the toilet, and his friends and neighbors are reluctant to acknowledge his existence. Originally telecast November 18, 1969, this film was one of the first to tackle the issue of disenfranchised Nam soldiers who came trudging home to indifference and hostility. Wisely, it avoids the fistfights and gore that would attend the later unfortunate spate of "crazed Vietnam vet" pictures. Though it would seem to be self-contained, The Ballad of Andy Crocker was intended as the pilot for a weekly TV series. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Frank Sinatra brings a sneering Rat Pack ethos to his first hard-boiled detective role in Tony Rome. Tony is an ex-cop who lives on a houseboat off Miami, accepting fees for private-eye work. His former partner, Ralph Turpin (Robert J. Wilke), asks Tony for help in locating Diana Pines (Sue Lyon), the daughter of rich construction magnate Rudolph Kosterman (Simon Oakland). Tony finds her unconscious and drunk in a sleazy motel room and returns her to her home. Rudolph decides to hire Tony in order to find out why his daughter is behaving so erratically. In the meantime, Diana's stepmother, Rita (Gena Rowlands), also offers Tony money to inform her first about whatever Tony finds out. He discovers that Diana has lost an expensive diamond pin, but before he can act upon the information, he is beaten up by two goons and nearly killed by Diana's crazy step-uncle. Tony then finds out that Turpin has been murdered. With help from sultry and sexy divorcée Ann Archer (Jill St. John), Tony discovers that Diana has been funneling large sums of money to her alcoholic mother, Lorna (Jeanne Cooper), with Rita's priceless jewelry being replaced by fakes. A collection of disagreeable human sludge all take their turns trying to get Tony and the information that he holds -- including his old pal Lieutenant Santini (Richard Conte). After a murder attempt on Rudolph's life, Tony uncovers a series of vile connections involving blackmail, deceit, and betrayal. ~ Paul Brenner, Rovi

In this offbeat crime drama, Mafia boss Johnny Colini (Marc Lawrence) has run afoul of the law and is being deported back to his native Sicily. Colini is not at all happy about this, and after he saves the life of a young thug, Johnny Giordano (Henry Silva), he knows the perfect way for Giordano to pay him back. Colini teaches Giordano the fine art of being a hit man, then sends him to America as Johnny Cool, with a long list of people who he believes informed on him to the police. Johnny Cool begins knocking off Colini's old enemies with a brutal violence that betrays the cool detachment of his personality; along the way, he meets Dare Guinness (Elizabeth Montgomery), a beautiful but promiscuous woman with whom Johnny falls in love. Several gangsters wanting to stop Johnny Cool's reign of terror rough up Dare as a warning to the hit man, but this only serves to make him all the more bloodthirsty. Produced in part by Peter Lawford, Johnny Cool features an interesting variety of notables as Johnny's associates and victims, including Telly Savalas, Mort Sahl, Joey Bishop, Jim Backus, and Sammy Davis, Jr., who also sings the theme song. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

"There are eight million stories in The Naked City...This has been one of them." These words were intoned by producer Mark Hellinger at the conclusion of The Naked City, a 1947 detective film lensed in its entirety in New York City (quite an innovation in those Hollywood-dominated years). The same words were heard as the coda in each episode of the TV series Naked City, which like its movie predecessor was entirely shot in the Big Apple. Technically, there were two TV series bearing the title Naked City. The first, which aired on ABC from September 30, 1958 through September 29, 1959, was a weekly, half-hour endeavor, starring John McIntire as veteran NYPD lieutenant John Muldoon and James Franciscus as his youthful partner, Detective Jim Halloran. While Muldoon spent virtually every hour of his day tracking down the various robbers, muggers and two-bit hoodlums in his jurisdiction, Halloran divided his time between his job and his home life with wife Janet (Suzanne Storrs). In a startling plot development, Muldoon was killed in a car chase on the episode originally telecast March 17, 1959, whereupon another seasoned veteran, Lt. Mike Parker (Horace McMahon) took over as Halloran's partner. Also seen during Naked City's initial run was Harry Bellaver as patrolman Frank Arcaro. After a year-long hiatus, Naked City returned to the ABC schedule on October 12, 1960, this time as an hour-long series with several new cast members. Horace McMahon was back as Lt. Parker, as was Harry Bellaver as Frank Arcaro, who in the interim had been promoted to sergeant. New to the series was Paul Burke in the "young partner" slot as Detective Adam Flint, while Nancy Malone was seen as Flint's loyal, ever-patient girlfriend, Libby. Both incarnations of Naked City were outfitted with bluesy, evocative theme songs, with George Duning composing the theme of the 1958 version and Billy May and Milton Raskin handling the 1960 theme. And both were overflowing with familiar faces in their supporting casts, with such actors as Sandy Dennis, Dustin Hoffman, and Jon Voight making their earliest filmed TV appearances. The hour-long version of Naked City ended its ABC run on September 11, 1963. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Jazz musician Stan Grayson (Kevin McCarthy) wakes up from a dream in which he has killed a man during a struggle in a bizarre mirrored room. However, thumbprints on his neck, a strange key in his pocket, and a haunting, otherworldly musical riff in his head quickly convince him that it was not just a dream. Afraid that he might be a murderer, yet not recalling the events of the nightmare, he confides in his brother-in-law (and New Orleans homicide detective) René Bressard (Edward G. Robinson), who tells him that he's been working too hard and drinking too much. But as Grayson is almost magnetically drawn back to the scene of the apparent crime, Bressard angrily comes to believe that Stan was lying and knew exactly what he had done. Grayson, paralyzed by his guilt, can barely find the strength to try to clear himself. McCarthy portrays a sense of overwhelming panic almost as well as he does in Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), and Robinson's tough cop is warmly textured with a sly sense of humor. Nightmare is a far superior remake of director Maxwell Shane's own first adaptation of the Cornell Woolrich story, Fear in the Night (1947). With a larger budget and better cast, Shane creates a shadowy, hypnotic world of seedy urban nightclubs and cheap hotels; even a picnic on the bayou evokes a feeling of dread. Woolrich would have felt right at home. ~ Steve Press, Rovi