Roxanne Arlen Movies

The satire in Evelyn Waugh's darkly comic novel The Loved One was originally double-edged. The book was not only an attack on the Southern California funeral industry but also a lampoon of Hollywood's "British colony," those clannish, cricket-playing English actors of years gone by who bemoaned the artificiality of Tinseltown while eagerly accepting the demeaning and insignificant movie roles they were offered. The film version of The Loved One, anxious to live up to its ad-campaign promise of containing "something to offend everybody," downplays the British-colony business (save for the presence of the magnificent Robert Morley) and pumps up the "death" gags. Innocent British poet Dennis Barlow (Robert Morse) falls in love with funeral-home cosmetician Aimee Thanatogenos (Anjanette Comer), who in turn is loved by prissy funeral director Mr. Joyboy (Rod Steiger). The latter lives with his obese mother (Ayllene Gibbons), whose eating sequence is far more hilarious (and more tasteless) than many of the film's calculatedly "black" jokes. A huge guest-star cast is headed by Jonathan Winters in a dual role as a funeral home manager and his covetous twin brother, who operates an elaborate pet cemetery. Musician Paul Williams is also on hand as a 13-year-old aeronautics genius who develops a method of sending corpses into "eternal orbit" (a plot device that Waugh neglected to include in his novel). Film historian William K. Everson has commented that The Loved One is one of the best and most underrated comedies of the 1960s. For others, especially those who might feel guilty chuckling at the sight of Anjanette Comer committing suicide with an embalming needle, it's purely a matter of taste...or lack of same. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This Stephen Sondheim/Jules Styne/Arthur Laurents musical comedy Gypsy had been a Broadway smash with Ethel Merman in the lead. Based on the autobiography of striptease artist Gypsy Rose Lee, it centers on the antics of Mama Rose (here played by Rosalind Russell), the Stage Mother from Hell who prods and pushes her daughters June and Louise into a vaudeville career. Rose pins most of her hopes for fame on older daughter June (billed as "Dainty June"), while little Louise reluctantly goes along for the ride. Karl Malden plays the girls' agent, who falls in love with Rose but is ultimately turned off by her ruthless ambition. When June escapes the act to get married, Rose puts the unwilling Louise in the star spot, but vaudeville is dying and soon the only booking they can get is in a cheap burlesque house. The strippers take Louise under their wing and advise her that "You've gotta have a gimmick" to survive on the bump-and-grind circuit. The nervous Louise rises to stardom as stripper Gypsy Rose Lee, whose "gimmick" is to adopt a self-mocking attitude and to put on pseudo-sophisticated airs. Rose resents Gypsy's rise to the top, but a bravura eight-minute musical soliloquy reveals that Rose had forced her daughters on the stage because she wanted to live out her own dreams of stardom. Louise--aka Gypsy--is played by Diane Pace as a girl and by Natalie Wood as an adult; June (better known as June Havoc) is portrayal by Suzanne Cupito (later billed as Morgan Brittany) as a little girl and Ann Jillian as an adolescent. Most of the best songs, including "Let Me Entertain You," "Small World," and "Everything's Coming Up Roses," remain intact from the original Broadway production. Gypsy was remade for television in 1993, with Bette Midler as Rose. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Though originally identified by TV Guide as a departure from Perry Mason's fourth-season Summer rerun schedule, this is actually the first episode of the series' fifth season. There's skullduggery at the "Los Angeles Chronicle" following the death of the paper's top executive in a drowning accident. Acting editor Joseph Davies (Linden Chiles), realizing that his fiancee Kerry Worden (Claire Griswold) has the potential to ruin both him and the paper, does his best to get rid of her. Even so, Davies is not responsible for Kerry's murder, and Perry Mason (Raymond Burr) intends to prove it in court. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This parody of Hollywood westerns centers on a boorish hellion of a cowboy star who makes life for the studio people around him a waking nightmare. His press agent is particularly beleaguered as she has been assigned to try to keep the errant star in line. She really has her work cut out for her when a little boy wins a national contest and gets to spend a month in the cowboy's home. Now the agent must conceal her difficult charge's true nature from the innocent boy. Fortunately, the lad has a good effect on the star and helps him settle down and become a decent fellow. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Perry Mason (Raymond Burr) comes to the aid of restaurant owner Morey Allen (Robert Osterloh) and waitress Dixie Dayton (Kay Faylen) when Dixie is accused of murdering a man who had been stalking her. It turns out that this case is linked with an earlier killing, in which a cop was the victim. The key to the mystery may be the titular "moth-eaten mink", with which DA Burger hopes to prove that Dixie was more intimate with the murder victim than she is willing to admit. Based on a 1952 novel by Perry Mason creator Erle Stanley Gardner,this episode was remade in 1965 as "The Case of the Sausalito Sunrise". ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This very lightweight comedy focuses on young orphan Willie Taylor (Tim Hovey). Upset with the prevarications of the adult world, Willie launches a truth-telling campaign at school, with the blessings of his pretty teacher Joan Madison (Maureen O'Hara). Things begin to get dicey when Willie publicly reveals a slightly dishonest real-estate deal mastermined by his Uncle Arthur (Barry Atwater). Crusading reporter Ernie Miller (John Forsythe) transforms little Willie into a big celebrity, and in so doing wins the love of Joan. A good supporting cast helps smooth over the lumpier passages of Everything but the Truth. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The Best Things in Life are Free is the tuneful if uninspired life story of popular composers DeSylva (Gordon MacRae), Brown (Ernest Borgnine) and Henderson (Dan Dailey). Pooling their talents, the trio rises from Tin Pan Alley to fame and fortune. The team's future is threatened when Buddy DeSylva becomes a big-time movie mogul, his ego expanding with his new responsibilities. But there's a happy ending, replete with a big, blow-out production number. Highlights include Sheree North and Jacques D'Amboise's dance deut to the tune of "Birth of the Blues"; this was North's first opportunity to play something other than a Marilyn Monroe type, and she acquits herself quite nicely. Other DeSylva-Brown-Henderson songs showcased throughout the film include "Button Up Your Overcoat", "Black Bottom", "Sunny Side Up" and the title number. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Dale Robertson stars as the Son of Sinbad in this tongue-in-cheek Arabian Nights romp. Hoping to rescue Bagdad from the forces of the dreaded Tamerlaine, Sinbad Jr. enlists the aid of the Khalif (Leon Askin) by promising to deliver the secret of "Greek Fire". To expedite this, he enlists the aid of the lovely Kristina (Mari Blanchard), who has memorized said secret. When the bad guys threaten the safety of hero and heroine, slave girl Ameer (Sally Forrest), who heads the all-female descendants of the original Forty Thieves, come galloping to the rescue. Personally produced by Howard Hughes, Son of Sinbad seems to be a clearing house for all of Hughes' voyeuristic fetishes; at one point, stripteaser Lili St. Cyr performs an exotic (and erotic) dance wearing the equivalent of a postage stamp, earning a Condemned rating from the Catholic Legion of Decency. The overabundance of feminie pulchritude gets a little wearing after a while, and it is up to Vincent Price to steal the show as Omar the Tentmaker, improvising passages of his unpublished "Rubiyat" (with a few anachronistic Shakespearean quotes thrown in) as he tries to keep apace with the hero. Also on hand is an uncredited (and fully clothed) Kim Novak as a handmaiden. More silly than sexy when seen today, Son of Sinbad is acceptable nonthink entertainment. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi