Paul Newman in The Prize (1963)

I was in the mood for some good old-fashioned espionage thriller, and this one sounded like it would fit the bill—a charismatic male lead in his prime, with a screenplay by Earnest Lehman, who also penned the great North by Northwest, it sounded like a guaranteed good time.

Alas, it was only half true.

The Film

For some reason, this year's Nobel prize in literature has been awarded to the young author Andrew Craig, who seems to be more interested in women and drinking than writing. Another laureate is Dr. Max Stratman, the famous German-American physicist who comes to Stockholm for the award ceremony with his young and beautiful niece Emily. The Foreign Department also assigns him an assistant during his stay, Miss Andersson. Craig soon notices that Dr. Stratman is acting strangely. The second time they meet, Dr. Stratman does not even recognize him. Craig begins to investigate.—IMDB Synopsis

The first hour was wonderfully captivating, I was pleasantly surprised (and appreciated) at the amount of subplots and secondary characters; even though none of these are particularly complex (scientist accused of plagiarism, a couple specialized in psychology having marital issue), they provided nice layers and made use of the setting's unique circustance.

Everything felt Hitchcockian in the best way possible, the plot moved along with momentum, sharp dialogs with a sense of humor, and watching Mr. Newman played a less than proper character was extremely entertaining; The character Andrew Craig sounded like a pathetic drunk on paper, but somehow Paul Newman made him rather charming, and you pretty much forgave his womanizing way.

The film quickly fell apart as it progressed into its conclusion, illogical decisions started to pile up, and the intrigue just wasn't... intriguing. To make matter worse, as the movie ramped up its action, it became clear director Mark Robson was no Alfred Hitchcock, these sequences felt meandering and just not thrilling to watch. As the film limped its way to conclusion—I imagine in my head what this film would be like had it been directed by Hitchcock.

Ironically, the collaboration between Hitchcock and Mr. Newman 3 years later, Torn Curtain, was also a rather underwhelming effort... If only we can redo history.

The Man

Honestly, nothing else need to be said about that physique—just look at it! Lean and natural—in term of Hollywood leading man material, no one will ever come close to Mr. Newman in his prime.

The director was obviously aware of Mr. Newman's asset, and had incorporated multiple scenarios where he need to be de-robed, including a lengthy segment crashing a nudist conference. Which I have to add, was the most cringe-worthy scene to watch—it was clearly the old school Hollywood attempting at being 'trendy' and embracing the 'European lifestyle', but just came across today as crass and ill-advised. It was this specific moment on when the film took a nose dive for the worst.

Oh well, as least this film succeeded in providing us with these moments of Paul Newman hotness.

Other thoughts on the web:  Born To Pootle | MNPP | Tales of the Easily Distracted | Out of the Past