Stu Bailey and Jeff Spencer were the wisecracking, womanizing private detective heroes of this Warner Brothers drama. Stu and Jeff worked out of an office located at 77 Sunset Strip in Los ... See full summary »
Efrem Zimbalist Jr.,
A wide variety of eccentric competitors participate in a wild and illegal cross-country road race. However, the eccentric entrants will do anything to win the road race, including low-down, dirty tricks.
Frankie Fane has clawed his way to the top of the Hollywood heap. Now, as he's preparing to win his Oscar, his friend Hymie Kelly reminisces over their life together, and Frankie's ruthless struggle to the top and the people he's stepped on (i.e., everyone else in the movie) to make it there.Written by
This is the story of...The Dreamers and The Schemers...The Hustlers and The Hopefuls...The Free-loaders and The Phonies...The Fakers and The Famous...All Fighting for the Highest Possible Award!! See more »
In the scene in the yacht Frankie says he pushed a rack on 28th street. The garment center in New York City is between 34th & 40th streets. See more »
You're wasting your time. I'm not the kind of woman who uses sex as a release or, or even as a weapon.
You always talk like that?
Then do me a favor, will ya, try droppin' it with me, I'm not that smart. You free thinkers confuse me.
Let me put it this way. I think I have more to offer than just my body.
Now I understand.
I am the end result of everything I've ever learned, all I ever hope to be, and all the experiences I've ever had.
How many experiences have you had?
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Atrocious film from producer Joseph E. Levine, here ripping the lid off the Hollywood can but getting nothing out of it except hot air. Ruthless, snarling Stephen Boyd scratches his way up from seamy strip joints (as manager for the non-blushing Jill St. John) to the top of the H-wood heap as the world's most constipated actor. Laughable backstage melodrama is high camp, but how can one laugh without feeling sorry for all the embarrassed personalities on the screen--none more so than Tony Bennett, looking like a basset hound in a tuxedo. The fifth-rate screenplay is full of now-legendary fruit-loop lines, boiling over with 'significance', while the surroundings (once considered plush) now look tatty. Elke Sommer (as a sketch artist for Edith Head!) is the one cast member who doesn't bulldoze her way through the picture. Otherwise, it ain't for the squeamish! *1/2 from ****
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