I have seen MICKEY ONE three times now, over a period of perhaps twenty years, and I think I'm finally beginning to get it. Obviously, it's an unconventional Hollywood film that seems to provoke either great praise (perhaps excessive) or intense damnation (unwarranted!). As the first collaboration between director Arthur Penn and actor-cum-producer Warren Beatty, MICKEY ONE could be considered important as the predecessor of BONNIE AND CLYDE, but it's such a different film that it should be judged on its own merits, which are considerable.
Upon recent viewing on TCM (thank you, TCM), I was struck by the emphasis on visual storytelling, typified by the opening title montage, a little masterpiece in itself. (In case you missed it, the woman in the sequence is Donna Michelle, the 1964 Playmate of the Year and a frequent fantasy of my adolescence.) Throughout the movie, though we get some crucial stretches of dialogue, Penn and screenwriter Alan M. Surgal (his only screenplay? really?) let the gorgeous B&W camera-work (by Ghislain Cloquet) do most of the talking. In that factor alone, MICKEY ONE runs counter to most American films of its time, or any time after 1929.
The sparse and sometimes cryptic dialogue frustrates many first-time viewers of MICKEY ONE -- which is why a second viewing, at least, is recommended to those who find the film initially baffling. What IS the point, anyway?
MICKEY ONE (Beatty) is a young nightclub comic who gets in some unspecified trouble with The Mob. The evil power and vengeful character of Organized Crime -- a myth which no one in this film seems to question or doubt -- prompts the comic (whose real/original stage name we never learn) to escape into greater anonymity. But he can't resist the lure of the spotlight, and, adopting the new stage name of "Mickey One," he eventually falls into a promising gig in Chicago, as well as the love of the normal, down-to-earth Jenny (Alexandra Stewart, about whom I shall fantasize in the future). But Mickey still believes The Mob is out to get him, and he frantically tries to make amends for whatever offense he's committed.
MICKEY ONE is more a character work than a plot-driven movie, and that sort of film is, no doubt, problematic for many viewers, especially since Beatty's character is not especially likable or sympathetic. In fact, he's a rather self-absorbed jerk whose edges are softened only by Jenny, whose love forces him to come to terms with his fear of The Mob. While his job depends on making other people laugh, Mickey is essentially a loner and all the more pathetic for that in his fear of a violent death. The climax of the film may make some viewers scream, "Is that all there is?" But, in a sense, that IS the point.
The pleasures of this film are many. Those who aren't looking for a predictable, well-telegraphed plot can enjoy MICKEY ONE for the vivid imagery -- the auto graveyard scenes, the self-destructing "YES" machine, and the atmospheric depiction of Chicago that is by turns gritty and elegant. The savory jazz score, by Eddie Sauter and Stan Getz, is listenable in its own right and gives strong support to the visuals. And the acting is superb. Beatty is not a favorite of mine, but this role fits him well and he gives a credible performance. Stewart is convincing in her crucial role. Hurd Hatfield and Jeff Corey stand out as nightclub managers, and veteran Franchot Tone has a small but compelling part as a mobbed-up club owner. Most of the smaller parts are convincingly played by little-known character actors, some apparently non-professional. Kamatari Fujiwara, veteran of many roles in Akira Kurosawa's films, is featured as a Harpo Marx-like artist who pops up frequently as a sort of silent but cheerful commentator on Mickey's plight.
MICKEY ONE requires close attention. Some of Penn's efforts to ape the new conventions of the French Nouvelle Vague don't work especially well but, again, they foreshadow the somewhat more Hollywoodish BONNIE AND CLYDE. Those seeking a plot-heavy film with a predictable ending are going to be frustrated. But for those with the eyes to see, and a little patience, MICKEY ONE grows on you. It's worth seeing twice, at least.
Upon recent viewing on TCM (thank you, TCM), I was struck by the emphasis on visual storytelling, typified by the opening title montage, a little masterpiece in itself. (In case you missed it, the woman in the sequence is Donna Michelle, the 1964 Playmate of the Year and a frequent fantasy of my adolescence.) Throughout the movie, though we get some crucial stretches of dialogue, Penn and screenwriter Alan M. Surgal (his only screenplay? really?) let the gorgeous B&W camera-work (by Ghislain Cloquet) do most of the talking. In that factor alone, MICKEY ONE runs counter to most American films of its time, or any time after 1929.
The sparse and sometimes cryptic dialogue frustrates many first-time viewers of MICKEY ONE -- which is why a second viewing, at least, is recommended to those who find the film initially baffling. What IS the point, anyway?
MICKEY ONE (Beatty) is a young nightclub comic who gets in some unspecified trouble with The Mob. The evil power and vengeful character of Organized Crime -- a myth which no one in this film seems to question or doubt -- prompts the comic (whose real/original stage name we never learn) to escape into greater anonymity. But he can't resist the lure of the spotlight, and, adopting the new stage name of "Mickey One," he eventually falls into a promising gig in Chicago, as well as the love of the normal, down-to-earth Jenny (Alexandra Stewart, about whom I shall fantasize in the future). But Mickey still believes The Mob is out to get him, and he frantically tries to make amends for whatever offense he's committed.
MICKEY ONE is more a character work than a plot-driven movie, and that sort of film is, no doubt, problematic for many viewers, especially since Beatty's character is not especially likable or sympathetic. In fact, he's a rather self-absorbed jerk whose edges are softened only by Jenny, whose love forces him to come to terms with his fear of The Mob. While his job depends on making other people laugh, Mickey is essentially a loner and all the more pathetic for that in his fear of a violent death. The climax of the film may make some viewers scream, "Is that all there is?" But, in a sense, that IS the point.
The pleasures of this film are many. Those who aren't looking for a predictable, well-telegraphed plot can enjoy MICKEY ONE for the vivid imagery -- the auto graveyard scenes, the self-destructing "YES" machine, and the atmospheric depiction of Chicago that is by turns gritty and elegant. The savory jazz score, by Eddie Sauter and Stan Getz, is listenable in its own right and gives strong support to the visuals. And the acting is superb. Beatty is not a favorite of mine, but this role fits him well and he gives a credible performance. Stewart is convincing in her crucial role. Hurd Hatfield and Jeff Corey stand out as nightclub managers, and veteran Franchot Tone has a small but compelling part as a mobbed-up club owner. Most of the smaller parts are convincingly played by little-known character actors, some apparently non-professional. Kamatari Fujiwara, veteran of many roles in Akira Kurosawa's films, is featured as a Harpo Marx-like artist who pops up frequently as a sort of silent but cheerful commentator on Mickey's plight.
MICKEY ONE requires close attention. Some of Penn's efforts to ape the new conventions of the French Nouvelle Vague don't work especially well but, again, they foreshadow the somewhat more Hollywoodish BONNIE AND CLYDE. Those seeking a plot-heavy film with a predictable ending are going to be frustrated. But for those with the eyes to see, and a little patience, MICKEY ONE grows on you. It's worth seeing twice, at least.