Wednesday, May 28, 2008

'Sunday in New York'

If I could be anywhere other than here in the Crossroads, it would be -- at least for awhile -- a swingin' bachelor apartment like the one Cliff Robertson owns in that early '60s comedy "Sunday in New York." Saw it on TCM last night and thought, "Now that would be mighty cool."

Course, that New York is long gone. It probably existed only in the movies anyway. But, it was a fun way to kill a couple of hours.

Robertson plays Adam Tyler, this ultra-cool airline pilot, who finds himself with a Sunday to kill. So naturally he's plans to get (ahem) up close and personal with his No. 1 gal Mona (Jo Harrell).

But, oops. Seems his young, naive sister Eileen (played by a young and extremely fetching Jane Fonda) has shown up from Albany. Yep, she's spending her vacation with her big brother. Adam keeps his cool, tells Eileen he's taking Mona "ice skating at Rockefeller Center," and heads off to find a quiet place to, er, relax.

Meanwhile, Adam's boss (played by the hilarious Jim Backus) calls the apartment. Adam has to fill in for a flight to Pittsburgh. So Eileen hops a bus to find him, runs into Philadelphia music critic Mike Mitchell (Rod Taylor), and what ensues from there is one amusing little series of mistaken identity and "this isn't what it looks like" moments.

These kind of pictures aren't going to win any Oscars, but pepper them with attractive women, Peter Nero jazz and a nostalgic look at an era in which men wore coats and ties -- even to row in a canoe on the park's lake with their gal -- and you don't seem to mind much. Despite my tirade against bad TV the other day, sometimes a little nonsense is exactly what you need.

Hated to learn that this little ditty isn't out on DVD. Especially since my TiVo decided to screw up and miss about five minutes in the middle and the concluding scene at the end.

Anyway, I just loved Adam's bachelor pad. Fireplace, spiral staircase upstairs, bar in the corner -- my condo isn't near as cool.

Oh, well. That's what old movies are for, I guess.

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