| Credited cast: | |||
| Sammy Davis Jr. | ... |
Adam Johnson
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| Ossie Davis | ... |
Nelson Davis
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| Cicely Tyson | ... |
Claudia Ferguson
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| Louis Armstrong | ... |
Willie Ferguson
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| Frank Sinatra Jr. | ... |
Vincent
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| Peter Lawford | ... |
Manny
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| Mel Tormé | ... |
Himself
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Lola Falana | ... |
Theo
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Jeanette Du Bois | ... |
Martha
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| Johnny Brown | ... |
Les
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George Rhodes | ... |
Leroy
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Michael Silva | ... |
George
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Michael Lipton | ... |
Bobby Gales
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| Rest of cast listed alphabetically: | |||
| Ted Beniades |
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Brunetta Bernstein |
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A famous jazz trumpeter finds himself unable to cope with the problems of everyday life.
Sammy Davis Jr. does well with a self-destructive, unlikable role, that of a jazz trumpet player (with the ridiculously Anglo-ized name of Adam Johnson) who finds true love for the first time with a virginal bleeding heart: a sensible civil rights activist who wants to reform the hot-headed musician of his hard liquor and hard-living. Adam, carrying around a multitude of shoulder-chips, lashes out at everybody and never seems to land on his feet; after burning all his bridges, he finds himself at the end of his professional rope--yet the faithful are still hopeful he can make a comeback. Davis mimes the trumpet well enough, but this character is tough to take (if he's not humiliating himself, he's hurting all his loved ones). Much better are Ossie Davis as a friend with a strong center and endless patience, as well as love-interest Cicely Tyson (her sparkling smile is particularly ingratiating, though she has a speech late in the movie about robbing Davis of his manhood that plays all wrong). Mel Tormé stops the show with a terrific rendition of "All That Jazz", while the superb soundtrack and Jack Priestley's gleaming cinematography are first-rate throughout. Director Leo Penn is best at the smaller bits of business; the action happening just left of center is far more interesting than the film's big dramatic moments, which tend to run away from Penn. Worse, the montage-heavy final act is movie-shorthand for the Last Hurrah, a worn-out cliché even in 1966. ** from ****