It's tough to begrudge Ben Kingsley the Oscar he won for playing the lead role in Gandhi. I tried watching it again early this year and as filmmaking goes, it's horrible. But for over three hours, Kingsley dominates the screen. And since Gandhi, Kingsley has proven to be a reliably good actor, avoiding the F. Murray Abraham "One Hit Wonder" label. And yet, I *do* begrudge him his Oscar because Kingsley's win is symptomatic of the fact that Oscar voters just don't understand how tough it is to do comedy. Kingsley's win came at the expense of two of the greatest pieces of screen comedy acting you'll ever see — Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie and Peter O'Toole in My Favorite Year.

It's tough to feel bad for Hoffman. Although his best performances (Midnight Cowboy, The Graduate, Little Big Man, and Tootsie) haven't won him Oscars, a couple of his lesser performances did. So I don't worry about Mr. Hoffman.

But Peter O'Toole? At 70, he hasn't given a great screen performance since 1987's The Last Emperor and it's hard to know if he ever will again. As it stands, Peter O'Toole is certainly the greatest living movie star never to have won an Oscar and he may be the greatest movie star *period* to go Oscar-free, which is just a shame. And while his performance in My Favorite Year is far from the best of his career, it's a fitting cap for a marvelous career. It's also a part that couldn't have been acted by any other actor and without which the film would have flattened like an overcooked soufflé

My Favorite Year is, apparently, based on a true story involving a young Mel Brooks and an old Errol Flynn, which at least partially explains why Dennis Palumbo's script feels like Mel Brook or Neil Simon-lite. It's full of witty one-liners (is there any other kind) and rosy-hued nostalgia for America in the 1950s. There's not a lick of irony to Palumbo and director Richard Benjamin's take on 1954 America as a simpler time and place when we were still innocent. While admittedly the Quiz Show scandals were still to come, America wasn't quite as simple a place as Palumbo and Benjamin want to depict, but no bother. If the writer and director aren't interesting in the Cold War and HUAC and the Korean War and other fun signs of impending doom, so much the warmer and fuzzier their movie.

It's 1954 and Benjy Stone (Mark Linn-Baker four years from being "Larry" to Bronson Pinchot's Balki on Perfect Strangers) has a high paying gig as a writer on a comedy/variety program on the hip medium of the moment, television. The show, "King Kaiser's Comedy Cavalcade" is clearly based on Sid Caesar's show, and its host, King Kaiser (the marvelous Joseph Bologna) is a bumbling blow-hard who tries to buy the love of his employees with thoughtless gifts (like tires... whitewalls). The writing staff includes Benjy, grumbling head writer Sy (Bill Macy), and Herb (Basil Hoffman) who never speaks but whispers witty rejoinders in Alice's (Anne De Salvo) ear.

The Comedy Cavalcade is preparing for the arrival of this week's special guest host, Alan Swan (O'Toole) an old school star of swashbucklers and romantic epics (like Flynn). Swan is famous for, as Sy says, "Drinking and humping." On his arrival in town, Alan certainly doesn't disappoint — he ditches his driver at the airport, wakes up in bed with two strangers, and arrives drunk for his first story meeting, somersaulting onto the table. Kaiser wants to kick Swan off the show, but Benjy makes an impassioned speech on the older actor's behalf. Kaiser lets Swan stay, but he makes Benjy take full responsibility for making sure that Swan makes it to the show. That leaves Benjy with one week to keep an eye on his idol, a task which includes keeping the old lech from flirting with Benjy's not-quite-girlfriend K.C. (Jessica Harper) and taking him to a family dinner in Brooklyn.

Swan and Benjy bond because both are performers denying their roots (Swan is working class British, Benjy working class Jewish) and the film requires both men to learn that sometimes its important to be yourself. Benjy, after an elaborate courtship of K.C. learns that his broad gestures are merely a caricature of romance, turning her off. But when he teaches her about Chinese food ("Jews know two things: suffering, and where to find great Chinese food") and shows her one of his favorite movies, they finally fall in love. The performance of love didn't work, but being himself did. Similarly, Swan must learn to draw the line between his screen character and the father he wants to be to his daughter Tess.

But even as Benjy and Swan learn that there's a right time and a wrong time for acting, the film is constantly aware that it's creating "movie moments." My Favorite Year is full of images and scream out "Only in the Movies!" The New York skylines are all matte paintings or sets and revel in their artificiality (and sometimes the actors interact poorly with the matte art). And as the film progresses these magical moments begin to weigh the film down with whimsy. I had no use for O'Toole dangling from the side of a Ritzy NYC apartment on a fire hose and the much vaunted horse-ride through Central Park felt too contrived to me. But apparently this fairy tale logic is all about execution, because the film's finale, in which a swordfight breaks out on live TV is marvelous and rescues My Favorite Year from its droopy second act.

Even if things hadn't ended well, I'd still have recommended My Favorite Year because each and every performance is perfect, up and down the cast. Even the smallest roles, like Benjy's mother Belle (Lainie Kazan), his Uncle Morty (Lou Jacobi), and Thelma Ritter-esque costume designer Lil (Selma Diamond) are filled by hilarious veteran actors.

The cast of My Favorite Year will also amuse fans of classic Italian horror films. Jessica Harper, who brings a smart sweetness to what otherwise would just be the "girlfriend" role, was the star of Dario Argento's Suspiria. And Cameron Mitchell (who horror fans will recognize from Mario Bava's Blood and Black Lace) has a small, but vivid appearance as a mobster who, offended by Kaiser's impression of him, sets in motion the film's final scene.

Mark Linn-Baker has always been, for me, the poor man's slightly WASPier Paul Reiser. And I'm still not convinced that Benjy Stone's ethnic quips wouldn't have been better delivered by Reiser or maybe Steve Guttenberg (both of whom were, at the time, coming off the brilliant Diner). And five years later, this part clearly would have been played by Matthew Broderick. But even thought I was constantly recasting the part in my head, Linn-Baker is very fine in a role that presages the double-takes and looks of pure exasperation which would serve him well in sitcom-land.

The movie still belongs to O'Toole. It's a performance that may be slightly autobiographical, but it also lets him show off in any number of ways. He gets to swordfight, swing from ropes, dance, and ride a horse. He also gets to deliver fantastically tart lines like "Stone, ladies are unwell, gentlemen vomit" and "You can watch me drink, or you can join me. One of them is more fun" and the immortal "Damn you! I'm not an actor, I'm a movie star!" When Swan is drunk, O'Toole gets to be flamboyant and when he's sober he gets to be suave and quick and he even gets to show regret and humanity towards the end. Every small expression is flawless. When Swan and Benjy go to the Stork Club, Swan sees a woman he wants to cavort with, but she's with her big lug of a boyfriend. He asks Benjy to create a distraction. No fair revealing what that distraction turns out to be, but the look on O'Toole's face — a mixture of amusement and pride — is priceless.

There's nothing in Palumbo's script, Benjamin's visual direction, or Gerald Hirschfeld's cinematography that elevate My Favorite Year above the level of a 90 minute sitcom. Benjamin at least understands sitcom comic timing and the plot never lags and the punchlines all hit properly. But it's as an actor himself that Benjamin does his best work - My Favorite Year is a well acted little comedy raised a major level by Peter O'Toole's last great leading role.

Now, somebody's gotta either give O'Toole another major part, or else the guy deserves a Lifetime Achievement Oscar. Let the campaigning begin...



Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD