The Man With the Golden Arm

In 1955, three titans of 20th-century art (Otto Preminger, Elmer Bernstein, and Frank Sinatra) united to adapt Nelson Algren's novel The Man with the Golden Arm into a motion picture. A critically acclaimed hit at the time, it remains a powerful (albeit adulterated) look at substance abuse from a time when depictions of such things were considered far more controversial. It is not a perfect film. However, while the film can grow tiring at times, the acting of Sinatra is wonderful.

In one of his most famous performances, Sinatra plays Frankie Machine, an aspiring musician and ex-convict who "kicked" a nasty drug addiction to heroin. Now, he has arms of pure gold and dreams of a second chance. "Everything's gonna be all right," he says. In the beginning of the film, he walks into a bar where he meets his old pal Sparrow (Arnold Strang), a conman and precursor to Rizzo Ratzo in Midnight Cowboy. Sparrow is a comic relief character (though not a particularly funny one). Frankie then goes home, where a sign that says "WELLCOME HOME, FRANKIE" awaits him. Presumably, this was written by his wife, Sophia (or "Zosh," as he calls her), played by Eleanor Parker, the "woman of a thousand faces." Zosh often uses a whistle to calm herself down and recalibrate, and she requires a wheelchair. There does not appear to be much love in their relationship, especially because Frankie seems to be falling for an old fling played by Kim Novak. 

Despite Frankie's desire to start over and start clean, other acquaintances of his have more menacing plans for him. Schwiefka (Robert Strauss), with a thick mustache and a cigar he frequently chews, attempts to recruit him again to deal for his illegal card game, while the dapper yet sinister Louie (Darren McGavin) tries to seduce Frankie into using again. "Seduce" is an appropriate term, for there are obvious homoerotic moments between Frankie and Louie, as the latter consistently preys on the former. (Apparently, the homoeroticism between the two exists in the novel as well.) Between Schwiefka's insistence that Frankie is the best dealer in town, Louie's insistence that Frankie needs the drugs again, and Zosh's insistence that he really isn't a good enough drummer to get a job, Frankie's chances for success appear slim.

The Man with the Golden Arm is not nearly as overly melodramatic as the Best Picture-winning The Lost Weekend from about a decade. before, in which the main character's alcoholism resulted in hallucinations of bats. Frankie's situation is desperate, and. yet Preminger, Sinatra, Bernstein, and the other members of the team present it to the audience in much more powerful yet subtle ways than The Lost Weekend did. This is often done through the camera's focus on Frankie's eyes, an act that reveals his continued drug use to the other characters and the hopelessness he finds himself in. There are no imaginary bats here. 

Part of what makes this successful is Bernstein's music. Given its setting in Chicago, it makes perfect sense to use a jazz theme. But the way he uses crescendos and an urgent brass to punctuate the drama will send chills down your spine. Bernstein, who was 33 years old at the time, was nominated for Best Original Score. Set designers Joseph C. Wright and Darrell Silvera (who were also nominated) are also worthy of the praise they received. The 1950s were a decade that featured lots of favorable economic conditions to many Americans; the economy grew by almost 40 percent, and unemployment was lower than 5 percent. Yet everything appears dilapidated and dystopic in this film thanks in large part to the set design.

The Man with the Golden Arm is a remarkably patient film, taking its time in providing the viewers information about these characters and details related to the plot. It is thirty minutes into the film before we get some information on why everything is as it appears. However, that is also the weakest aspect of this film, as its pace becomings taxing, frequently shifting from intensity to apathy. When the film "tells us" what Frankie is experiencing instead of showing us, the experience is also damaged. We already know that Frankie's addiction is destroying him; we don't need him to awkwardly tell Zosh that there's an allegorical monkey on his back. Some trimming really could have helped the film. Much of the screenplay, written for the screen by Walter Newman, Lewis Meltzer, and an uncredited Ben Hecht, works, but in typical 1950s fashion, much of the original source material (particularly the climactic scene) was diluted to be more palatable for audiences of the conservative era. This also hurts the film, though the numerous surprises toward the end help it recover, especially as we get to see Parker and McGavin deliver their best moments. Parker and McGavin are best known today for their roles in family-friend movies of the past: Parker as Baroness Elsa von Schraeder in The Sound of Music and McGavin as the father in A Christmas Story. You won't recognize either of them in The Man with the Golden Arm; that's how fantastic their acting is.

Sinatra's acting, though, shines the most. Sinatra was nominated for Best Actor for his work here. (He lost to Marty star Ernest Borgnine, who played the rival of Sinatra's character in From Here to Eternity two years before, the movie that earned Sinatra his Oscar.) His acting sometimes dives into "most acting," ann annoying habit many actors play with when they really want you to know just how much effort they're putting into it. But his showing is superior to his telling, like whenever he plays the drums of is desperate for drugs. This is most obvious in Frankie's audition scene, a tense, painful moment in which he struggles to perform while going through withdrawal after dealing cards for nearly two days. It is a very sympathetic performance during a time in which I imagine the public was less sympathetic to such characters. Indeed, this was a somewhat controversial film. Preminger and United Artists decided to release the film without a Code approval despite its topic. When the Production Code Administration denied the film a Code approval and the Motion Picture Association of America upheld the decision, UA quit the MPAA. Despite this, large theater chains agreed to show the film, pacing the way for later films to tackle other taboo subjects. (After receiving a Production Code seal in 1961, the film was allowed to be broadcast on television.)  

The Man with the Golden Arm may suffer form an unjustified length and pace, but its music, themes, bravery, set design, and acting make it a recommendable film.

This article was originally published in Public Domain Film Review on August 3, 2020.