The Five Best Burt Lancaster Performances

The shadows enhance the film's dark tones.

1. Sweet Smell of Success (1957) - Surprisingly, Burt Lancaster didn't garner rave reviews nor earn any awards for what I consider his finest performance. In this first-rate adaptation of Clifford Odets' play, he stars as J.J. Hunsecker, an influential, immoral newspaper columnist who enjoys the power he holds over people. It would have been easy to portray Hunsecker as a two-dimensional villain. But Burt digs deep into this unlikable egotist and finds reasons for his actions. They may not be good reasons, but he makes Hunsecker one of the most memorable characters of the 1950s cinema.

2. Seven Days in May (1964) - John Frankenheimer's potent political thriller features Lancaster as as General James Mattoon Scott, a strong, charismatic leader who is convinced that a nuclear threat is the only way to hold the Soviet Union in check. The role is a tough one that requires the actor to convince us that Scott believes his actions are driven by patriotism--not his own out-sized ego. The beauty of Lancaster's performance is that he finds that "sweet spot." Like Kirk Douglas, who plays a Scott admirer, we cannot condone the General's treasonous actions. Yet, at the same time, we recognize that Scott is a far more engaged leader than the President prior to the attempted coup.

Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster.

3. From Here to Eternity (1953) - This classic is an obvious choice, but it's also a mandatory one. Lancaster is sensational as a disciplined sergeant who falls for his commanding officer's neglected wife (Deborah Kerr). Their scene on the beach is justly famous, but its impact can be largely attributed to the build-up conveyed convincingly by two exceptional performers in their prime. As with other Lancaster movies, his fellow cast members may have won the acting awards, but Burt anchored the film with his raw intensity.

4. The Rainmaker (1956) - I expect to receive some flack for selecting this one over more celebrated performances in Separate Tables and Elmer Gantry. Personally, I think that Lancaster overplays those roles (which were perhaps overwritten to start with). He may be loud and obnoxious as traveling con man Bill Starbuck...but he creates magic with Katharine Hepburn. She was Oscar nominated and it's a fine performance, but I think Kate's success as spinster Lizzie Curry would be diminished if she was acting opposite anyone but Burt as Starbuck. It's a role that fits him like a glove.

Burt and Ava had chemistry!

5. The Killers (1946) - I was tempted to go out on a limb and place The Kentuckian here, since it provides Burt with one of his most different roles (e.g., a likable, honest--but not very bright--pioneer father). However, in the end, I opted for the role that made him a star: The Swede in Robert Siodmak's classic film noir The Killers. One of my favorite scenes is when The Swede meets Kitty (Ava Gardner) and becomes instantly transfixed--it's like there's no one else in the world for the ex-fighter. Burt Lancaster's ferocity dominated many of his later films, but his performance in The Killers proves that he could flourish in an excellent ensemble cast.

Honorable mentions: The Kentuckian, Birdman of Alcatraz, The Crimson Pirate, Brute Force, The Swimmer, and Run Silent, Run Deep.

John Frankenheimer: Interviews, Essays, and Profiles

In his new book John Frankenheimer: Interviews, Essays, and Profiles, editor Stephen B. Armstrong lets his subject largely speak for himself. The result is a fascinating look inside the mind of a filmmaker whose career ranged from bonafide classics--such as The Manchurian Candidate and Seven Days in May--to unmitigated disasters. Frankenheimer discusses his work in unflinching terms, defending some critical failures (e.g., Prophecy) while acknowledging that others were made to pay the bills (e.g., The Extraordinary Seaman). His realistic approach to his craft can be summarized in this marvelous quote: "Every movie you make is a compromise."

Twenty-six of the thirty-one chapters are either interviews with Frankenheimer or essays penned by the director. The remaining five chapters are written by Frankenheimer's family, colleagues, and the editor. Armstrong has done a masterful job in selecting the articles, which were originally published between 1964 and 2010. The chronology of the articles allows the reader to learn how the acclaimed director viewed his films at different points in his life.

Frankenheimer fondly discusses his early career in live television in several articles ("I look back on that as the highlight of my life"). He directed over 125 television dramas, earning Emmy nominations for five consecutive years, starting in 1956. In this "Golden Age of Television," he worked with established stars (Robert Mitchum, Claudette Colbert, James Mason, etc.) and actors destined to become stars (e.g., Paul Newman, Ben Gazzara, and Lee Marvin).

Frankenheimer was just 26 when he made his first theatrical film, The Young Stranger (1957), which he describes as "a lousy movie" and a terrible experience with the crew and studio. He credits David O. Selznick with reviving his interest in a theatrical film career. He and Selznick collaborated on the script for F. Scott Fitzgerald's Tender Is the Night (which Selznick abandoned). After making The Young Savages in 1961, the first of five films with Burt Lancaster, Frankenheimer directed Birdman of Alcatraz and The Manchurian Candidate (both 1962)--and sealed his place among the great directors of the 1960s.

Lansbury as one of cinema's worst mothers.

Some of Frankenheimer's best anecdotes focus on the casting choices in his films. Frank Sinatra wanted Lucille Ball to play the maternal role made famous by Angela Lansbury in The Manchurian Candidate. In Seven Days in May,  Frankenheimer originally wanted Paul Newman to play Colonel Jiggs Casey with Kirk Douglas as the scheming General James Mattoon Scott. Douglas eventually played Casey instead and Burt Lancaster gave one of his best performances as Scott. The race-car drama Grand Prix was written for Steve McQueen and James Garner was cast only because McQueen was unavailable. And in Seconds, Frankenheimer had convinced Laurence Olivier to play both the old and "young" versions of the film's protagonist. When the studio insisted on Rock Hudson as the star, the director decided to cast two actors, with John Randolph playing the middle-aged Arthur Hamilton and Hudson as the transformed Hamilton.

Burt Lancaster in Birdman of
Alcatraz.

Frankenheimer excels at capturing the frustrations and challenges of making movies. For example, his 1971 film, The Impossible Object starring Alan Bates, was never released. Even Birdman of Alcatraz proved to be a difficult shoot. Frankenheimer reveals that the first cut ran four hours and ten minutes, with the birds not appearing for the first two hours. Deciding that there was no way to cut the film, Frankenheimer convinced the producer to let him rewrite and reshoot the first half: "We put the film together and it is what it is. But we shot (it) one and a half times."

Editor Stephen B. Armstrong, a professor at Dixie State University in St. George, Utah, includes a comprehensive filmography, a bibliography, and an index. His book is a must for any library with a film reference collection and for anyone interested in what goes on behind the scenes in the making of a motion picture.


Scarecrow Press, an imprint of Rowman & Littlefield, provided the Cafe with a review copy of this book.

John Frankenheimer Counts Down "Seven Days in May"

John Frankenheimer followed his classic The Manchurian Candidate (1962) with this equally original political thriller. Rod Serling’s taut screenplay interweaves the stories of three men: President Jordan Lyman (Fredric March), whose popularity has plunged as a result of pushing for a nuclear arms treaty with Russia; General James Mattoon Scott (Burt Lancaster), the influential, egotistical head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; and Marine Colonel “Jiggs” Casey (Kirk Douglas), a key member of Scott’s staff.

The still-timely political debate is neatly conveyed in the opening scene of protestors marching outside the White House. One group is holding up signs that proclaim: “Peace on Earth or No Earth at all!” The other protestors wave posters with slogans like: “Don’t ban the bomb Stupid—Ban the Treaty.”

The President.

After this prologue, Colonel Casey sets the plot in motion when he learns of a top secret message involving a Preakness Stakes betting pool. Later, he meets Colonel Henderson, an old friend, who makes an odd comment about his Army unit: “It’s funny…we spend more time training for seizure than prevention.” Casey continues to collect more unusual clues—none of which means much individually. However, they slowly lead him to a stunning realization that has ramifications upon the very nature of our democracy.

Part mystery, part suspense film, Seven Days in May is a rare motion picture in which the outcome is always in doubt until the climax. That uncertainty is a testament to Frankenheimer’s craftsmanship as a filmmaker. He also excels in making excellent use of his settings and in making time an important element in the film. Frankenheimer gives us a complete tour of the nation’s capitol—from the Pentagon’s chambers to the President’s study to dark alleyways where deals are made. And, after cueing us into the fact that something will happen on Sunday, he counts down each day, leading his characters to their inevitable confrontation.

The General.

In Serling's screenplay, President Lyman and General Scott initially appear to be polar opposites. Scott comes across as a strong, charismatic leader convinced that a nuclear threat is the only way to hold the Soviet Union in check. Lyman, on the other hand, seems bland, weak, and unpopular (his approval rating is a disasterous 29%). Lyman can't even convince his own military leaders that peace is the best option. However, as events unfold, these initial perceptions are put to the test. One realizes that Lyman's conviction to stay his course despite an onslaught of criticism is a testament to his inner strength. In contrast, Scott's impatience and ego propel him to attack the very foundations of our country, using its best interests--as interpreted by him--as an excuse.

The man in the middle.

Though March and Lancaster are compelling as the protagonists, Kirk Douglas grounds the film with his excellent performance as Jiggs. It's a great role, as Jiggs is the man in middle whose compass shifts from one man to the other--as the audience moves along with him.

Seven Days in May represented a career peak for director John Frankenheimer. He continued to make interesting movies in the 1960s with The Train (1964), the cult classic Seconds (1966), and Grand Prix (interesting from a technical standpoint). However, his career faltered in the 1970s, with critics drubbing Prophecy (1979), an entertaining monster film with an environmental message. Toward the latter part of his career, he earned recognition again with well-reviewed made-for-cable films.

Ironically, Seven Days in May was remade as the 1994 cable movie The Enemy Within, but it was not directed by Frankenheimer. The cast featured Sam Waterston as the President, Jason Robards as the general, and Forest Whitaker as Casey.

My 100 Favorite Films: From 80 to 71

In this third installment, you may start to wonder about my tastes in film! Keep in mind that these are my favorite movies--not a "best of" list. So, it was inevitable that some guilty pleasures would find their way into this project. (As always, an underlined title means there's a hyperlink to a full review at the Cafe.)

A colorful poster...but
no hint of the plot!

80. You Never Can Tell - A German Shepard named King inherits a fortune following his eccentric owner's death--but then is swiftly murdered. The canine angel asks if he can return to Earth long enough to catch his killer and clear the innocent woman accused of the crime. King is sent back to Earth as a "humanimal"--an animal reincarnated as human—in this case, a private eye named Rex Shepard (Dick Powell). This amusing fantasy was a childhood fave and still holds up well, thanks to a wonderfully inventive premise and a marvelous Powell performance. I can't imagine another human playing a dog playing a human!

79. Advise and Consent - The President (Franchot Tone) clashes with the Senate and his own party on his nomination of a liberal academic (Henry Fonda) to become Secretary of State. His unyielding stance sets into motion a political chess match in which Senators take sides and people become pawns. (The chess analogy is an interesting one: Walter Pidgeon, who fights for nominee Fonda, wears a dark suit; Charles Laughton, who opposes him, wears white). This absorbing look inside Washington politics was made in 1962, but always feels timely--and the entire cast is first-rate.

Jason Robards as Cable Hogue.

78. The Ballad of Cable Hogue - My favorite Sam Peckinpah film is a wistful tale of fate, redemption, and the dying days of the Old West (a recurring Peckinpah theme). Jason Robards, Jr. plays the title character, a drifter left for dead in the desert by his low-life partners. Just when death seems imminent, Hogue finds a spring—a source of water surrounded by an ocean of sand—and this discovery changes his life. Robards is superb and gets outstanding support from David Warner as a would-be man of the church and Stella Stevens as a prostitute (easily her best role ever). However, it's the spirit of the main character that lingers long after the bittersweet ending.

Bond and Flynn as rivals-turned-friends.

77. Gentleman Jim - I'm not sure why this tremendously entertaining biography of boxing legend Jim Corbett has never taken its place as one of Warner Bros.' best films of the 1940s. Errol Flynn, often underrated as an actor, is in fine form as Corbett and he's surrounded by a bunch of veteran scene stealers in Alan Hale, Jack Carson, and William Frawley. Alexis Smith provides a feisty love interest and Ward Bond gives one of his best performances as boxing rival John L. Sullivan. Best of all, though, director Raoul Welsh creates a flavorful portrait of America just prior to the turn of the century. Funny, exciting, and ultimately heartfelt, Gentleman Jim is a classic that deserves more attention.

76. Seven Days in May - John Frankenheimer followed his classic The Manchurian Candidate (1962) with this equally original political thriller. Rod Serling’s taut screenplay interweaves the stories of three men: President Jordan Lyman (Fredric March), whose popularity has plunged as a result of pushing for a nuclear arms treaty with Russia; General James Mattoon Scott (Burt Lancaster), the influential, egotistical head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; and Marine Colonel “Jiggs” Casey (Kirk Douglas), a key member of Scott’s staff. Part mystery, part suspense film, Seven Days in May unfolds its audacious plot carefully; it's a rare motion picture in which the outcome is always in doubt until the climax. That uncertainty is a testament to Frankensheimer’s craftsmanship as a filmmaker.

75. The Power – Shortly after absent-minded Professor Henry Hallson (Arthur O'Connell) reveals that one of his colleagues at a research center for human endurance has “an intelligence quotient beyond the known limits of measurability,” he is found murdered. When fellow scientist Jim Tanner (George Hamilton) starts investigating, he is not only framed—but finds himself the target of a diabolical “super intellect” that can alter people's perceptions of reality. While I recognize that The Power is a film of many flaws (starting with Hamilton’s bland hero), I always enjoy it immensely thanks to its ingenious premise, Miklós Rózsa’s unique score, and a delightfully wacky twist ending. And while I don’t know many people who proclaim to be fans, I can take solace in the words of film critic John Baxter who hailed The Power as “one of the finest of all science fiction films.”

74. Gargoyles – A delirious guilty pleasure, this 1972 film stars Cornel Wilde as an anthropologist battling the title creatures in a small southwestern desert town. A rare network TV-movie excursion into visual horror, Gargoyles opens with a prologue that explains the ancient creatures are reborn every 600 years to “battle against man to gain dominion of the Earth.” Bernie Casey gives an intelligent performance as the head gargoyle, exuding menace and generating a surprising amount of sexual tension for a network TV movie of the era. The Emmy-winning Stan Winston make-up is marvelous, complete with wings, horns, a pointy chin, white eyes, and vampiric fangs. And yet, I’m hard-pressed to explain my continuing affection for this film…perhaps it evokes a certain amount of nostalgia for the many made-for-TV movies I watched as a teen in the early 1970s.

Sir Wilfrid cross-examines a witness.

73. Witness for the Prosecution - Charles Laughton stars as Sir Wilfrid Robarts, a famed London barrister recuperating from a heart attack. Though under strict orders to avoid stressful criminal cases, his pursuit of a forbidden cigar results in accepting a case involving a penniless opportunist (Tyrone Power) accused murdering a middle-aged wealthy widow. One of the finest Hitchcock films not made by Hitchcock, Witness is a clever, witty courtroom drama (courtesy of Agatha Christie and Billy Wilder). However, the film's most entertaining aspect is its unexpected humor--much it of derived from the relationship between the cantankerous Sir Wilfrid and his fastidious nurse, Miss Plimsoll (Elsa Lanchester, Laughton’s real-life spouse).

72. Victim – When I first saw 1961’s Victim, I had no idea what it was about. The film unfolds as an engrossing mystery involving blackmail, suicide, and an affluent barrister played by Dirk Bogarde. For the sake of those unfamiliar with this landmark movie, I won’t divulge any more of its plot. At a future date, though, I’ll do an in-depth review and address why it’s one of those rare films that seamlessly integrates a well-told story and social commentary. Bogarde shines in the lead role, though Sylvia Sims manages to upstage him in their potent scenes together near the climax.

71. The Winslow Boy – When a boy is expelled from a British naval academy for theft, his father has only one question: Did he do it? When the son proclaims his innocence, the father sets out to right the wrong—even it means taking on the House of Commons. The compelling story, sharply-etched characters, and sparkling dialogue can all be attributed to Terence Rattigan’s brilliant stage play. Still, this film adaptation stands on its own, anchored by a sensational cast. Robert Donat—who appears well into the proceedings—has the showy role as the son’s barrister and delivers his two big scenes with maximum impact. However, my favorite performances come from Cedric Hardwicke as the never-wavering father and Margaret Leighton as the feminist daughter. Her closing scene with Donat concludes the film on a perfect note.

Next month, I'll count down 70-61, which will include another Flynn film, the first of multiple Sidney Poitier appearances, a Renoir classic, and a Cornel Wilde cult film!