A product of the Eisenhower fifties, Some Came Running, adapted from a James Jones novel, stars Frank Sinatra as a footloose writer returning to his Midwestern home town right after World War II. Directed by Vincente Minnelli, in a grand, florid manner, it is essentially a smart soap opera, with some very deep emotions, shot in garish color, that can at its best bear comparison with the films of Douglas Sirk, and is in some ways better, more imaginative. The story matters less than the characters, which aside from Sinatra's artist-in-uniform, include an alcoholic Southern gambler, played by Dean Martin, who's also his best friend; a pathetic floozie from Chicago who followed Sinatra home (Shirley MacLaine); Sinatra's brother, a frustrated if successful businessman (Arthur Kennedy); and a prim, somewhat stuffy school-teacher (Martha Hyer),who admires Sinatra as a writer but cares little for him as a man. Sinatra is torn between bad girl MacLaine and good girl Hyer; and though the former is easy to be with, if not much of a conversationalist, the latter is an ice princess, and proud of it. Understandably, Sinatra reverts to gambling, drinking and carousing with friend Dean Martin, but is clearly not happy with it. He would like to find a place in society, but how? Where?

This one could have been a classic, and the cast is for the most part excellent. MacLaine's Method-ish performance is the only jarring note, but it's a loud one. A number of things keep the film "down", or at any rate in second gear. First of all Minnelli was as man and director such an aesthete that he spends much of his time painting with his camera. Aided in no small measure by the excellent photography of William Daniels, his compositions and color create an often surreal effect, almost hallucinogenic, ultimately anti-realistic, though fascinating to watch, and this in the end detracts from the story. On the other hand Minnelli was good with people, and his more intimate scenes between people who really know each other,--Sinatra and Martin, Sinatra and MacLaine--show a genuine understanding of human behavior. Back and forth the movie goes. That its setting is Indiana make both the movie and the characters seem out of place in this most conservative of midwestern states. There is none of the wholeness here that one gets from, for instance, Kazan's On the Waterfront, where everything comes together beautifully and nothing is out of place. Here everyone seems to belong either elsewhere or nowhere, to be thinking or dreaming of other things, to not really care much for their surroundings. There is also a strong undercurrent of Tennessee Williams and William Inge-inspired textbook Freud, with the characters either sexually obsessed, sexually frustrated or sexually avoidant. I doubt the word sex is ever actually used in the movie, but it's everywhere. The Elmer Bernstein score, jazzy and doubtless influenced by Alex North's music for Streetcar Named Desire, tends to telegraph, often hilariously, how one ought to feel about what's going on, especially the raunchy, down-dirty greasy horns he deploys whenever the story moves to the wrong side of the tracks or to a card game, as if to say, "Okay Middle America, this is NOT the way to be".

For all its flaws, the movie has many grace notes, some of them even musical, as Bernstein occasionally redeems himself, especially in his lovely main theme. The compartmentalized, evasive lives most of the characters in the film live are, shorn of the melodrama, not unlike real life. Even when the plot becomes predictable the underlying emotions of the main characters remain authentic, and the result is in many ways a compartmentalized movie that at times seems to take its style from the dreams and fantasies of its various characters, becoming in effect their view of life rather than their actual lives. This feeling of fantasy versus reality becomes the movie's major issue when an old boyfriend of MacLaine's shows up, starts drinking, and begins to stalk her. The danger in the air is palpable, and as many of these later scenes take place literally in a carnival atmosphere, the film becomes simultaneously urgent and otherworldly, like someone coming off a mescaline trip who suddenly realizes that he's standing on the ledge of a twenty storey building. This was very daring of Minnelli, and I'm sure intentional, and the ending is truly heartbreaking, and yet aesthetic also, with the director refusing to give up his florid manner even in the last scene. I sense that the tragedy in the film had a very private meaning for Minnelli, and that he intended for it to have the same effect on the audience; to trigger personal issues in each viewer that he could take away from the movie which were independent of the movie. In this he succeeded magnificently.

The fifties were melodrama heyday:Douglas Sirk and Vincente Minelli were masters of the genre at the time.Frank Sinatra plays the main character,but,little by little,it's Shirley Mac Laine who steals the show.She's the hackneyed big-hearted whore -a character she was to play again,on a more comic mode,in "Irma la douce"-,and what's extraordinary is that such a clichéd woman can touch us so closely.Her scene with Martha Hyer who plays a chic lit university professor is absolutely mind-boggling when she humbles before her.Her love for Dave is not shared,because,although the former writer stands aloof from his brother's respectable family,Gwen (Hyer) represents something he can't renounce.He does not marry Ginny (MCLaine) out of love but in a fit of pique.Ginny knows she's been cheated,but her love is so strong that she accepts everything.When Dave understands,it will be too late.The final scene is not far from that of "Imitation of life" and Ginny and the black servant Annie in Sirk's movie are some kind of cousins.

Before I get to my actual review, here's what I don't get - especially in a big scale film with impressive talent and an acclaimed director. In the scene when Dean Martin's character gets attacked during the poker game, Dave Hirsh (Frank Sinatra) tends to his knife wound, and pats down Bama Dillert's (Dean Martin) left shoulder (no blood by the way). In the following scene, Bama's got his left arm in a sling while in the hospital. The following day upon release from the hospital, as Bama and Dave arrive in Parkman during the Centennial celebration, Dave asks Bama if he's OK to drive with one arm. Bama removes his left arm from the sling and starts driving, with no reaction to the injury he just suffered. How come no one on the set noticed that? Or was Dino just goofing to see if anyone was paying attention?

I can imagine that Martin was actually trying to pull one off, as in all other respects, his performance was as natural and unassuming as you're likely to find in any buddy picture. The real life camaraderie he enjoyed with co-star Frank Sinatra certainly shines through here, right from their first scene together upon meeting at Smitty's. I don't think there would have been much difference between their on and off screen antics during the filming of the picture, with 'booze and broads' topping the list. Though I don't think Martin would have referred to his female companions as pigs; that was probably as far out of character that Dino might have gone for the sake of the story.

Count me among those who feel Shirley MacLaine takes the prize here for her performance as the starry eyed floozie who falls for Sinatra's character. I was enthralled by her conversation with teacher Gwen French over the fate of Dave Hirsh's romantic prospects, and even more moved by that exchange with Dave about liking someone or something without understanding it. That scene managed to sum up a vast majority of the human condition in one fell swoop, and it looked like it knocked Hirsh for a loop too. Her performance was exquisite.

As far as the character of Gwen French goes, Martha Hyer was effective, but couldn't you just smack her. Hot, cold, hot, cold - very frustrating and no surprise that Hirsh beat a hasty retreat near the finale. I don't know if I buy his revenge proposal to Ginnie (MacLaine),but I guess that's happened more than once. Where I think I stray from most of the professional critics is in the frenetic final moments of the carnival scene. Hailed as an exceptionally innovative and original concept from director Vincente Minnelli, I thought it didn't have a natural flow, even with the threat of the lunatic from Chicago.

A final offbeat observation - didn't Dean Martin's barfly girlfriend look a lot like Elizabeth Taylor - she could have been a dead ringer in profile. I was thinking about that most of the picture, when all of a sudden, a movie marquee appears with "Courage of Lassie" appearing in downtown Parkman - starring Elizabeth Taylor! Like Ginnie Moorehead, I liked that, but didn't quite understand it.