If the movie seems "dated" today (and it does), it's not just because the men wear tightly tailored narrow-collared gray suits, stovepipe trousers, and short haircuts. It's not the apricot carpets either. It seems dated because now the cynicism that informs it is taken for granted. It's presented as amusing and shocking but a modern audience is likely to shrug and say, "So what?" When I was in college, Macchiavelli, author of "The Prince," an essay on how to manipulate people in order to bend them to your will, was considered a bible of rotten conniving. I recently saw a paperback copy of "The Prince" with a cover illustration. The giant palm of your hand, with "the world" in it. (Read this book and you have the world in the palm of your hands -- get it?) Macchiavelli, the lying, greedy, underhanded suppurating scum, The Prince of Darkness, has become a modern hero.
The movie's no longer as shocking as it was in the mid-1960s, but it's still very funny. J. Pierpont Finch (Robert Morse) is a window washer who happens upon a book, "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying." By simply following instructions he manages to worm his way into a huge company that manufactures and distributes wickets. He starts in the mail room and rises in a few days to Chairman of the Board through deception and skulduggery. In the last scene he is introduced to the President of the United States.
What's a wicket, you ask. Nobody knows. The play doesn't show us any, or describe any, or tell us what they look like or what they do. The business is content-free. I am referring here to the "business" because that's the metaphor used in the story. You can substitute any other bureaucracy that fits the model if you like -- a hospital, a government. The point of the story is the same as that of Macchiavelli's book -- not wickets but power.
I don't really want to get into the movie in detail because it would involve giving away too many amusing sight gags and bits of dialog. Much of the success is owed to the smoothly practiced cast. It looks like a filmed play in which the actors know their roles inside and out. Robert Morse is quite good. He's clever but he looks cute in a boyish way, with those gapped incisors. He uses his cuteness as a tool but convinces us that this is part of the character, not the actor. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't personally think he's cute or handsome. I don't know why the secretary, Michelle Lee, falls for him. Why, hell, on a bad day I'm ten times as handsome and cute as Robert Morse. Come to think of it, I'm not sure he's so "cute" after all. Furthermore, when he sings he sounds like Marlene Dietrich did in "Destry Rides Again" when she jiggles her speech organs between thumb and forefinger.
The songs are usually sprightly, sometimes sweet, and the lyrics have to be heard to be fully appreciated. One falls a little flat -- The Brotherhood of Man. It works if taken to be meant as the baloney that it so obviously is. None of the tunes is really powerful, though "I Believe In You" is, marginally, a standard today. I'd have enjoyed seeing more vigor in the songs and dances. Bob Fosse would have done wonders with the numbers but then it would have turned the film upside down. The songs are only ancillary. The real story depends on plot and character and doesn't need too much music because it would be a distraction.
There are some laugh-out-loud moments in it, and it's well worth seeing.
The movie's no longer as shocking as it was in the mid-1960s, but it's still very funny. J. Pierpont Finch (Robert Morse) is a window washer who happens upon a book, "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying." By simply following instructions he manages to worm his way into a huge company that manufactures and distributes wickets. He starts in the mail room and rises in a few days to Chairman of the Board through deception and skulduggery. In the last scene he is introduced to the President of the United States.
What's a wicket, you ask. Nobody knows. The play doesn't show us any, or describe any, or tell us what they look like or what they do. The business is content-free. I am referring here to the "business" because that's the metaphor used in the story. You can substitute any other bureaucracy that fits the model if you like -- a hospital, a government. The point of the story is the same as that of Macchiavelli's book -- not wickets but power.
I don't really want to get into the movie in detail because it would involve giving away too many amusing sight gags and bits of dialog. Much of the success is owed to the smoothly practiced cast. It looks like a filmed play in which the actors know their roles inside and out. Robert Morse is quite good. He's clever but he looks cute in a boyish way, with those gapped incisors. He uses his cuteness as a tool but convinces us that this is part of the character, not the actor. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't personally think he's cute or handsome. I don't know why the secretary, Michelle Lee, falls for him. Why, hell, on a bad day I'm ten times as handsome and cute as Robert Morse. Come to think of it, I'm not sure he's so "cute" after all. Furthermore, when he sings he sounds like Marlene Dietrich did in "Destry Rides Again" when she jiggles her speech organs between thumb and forefinger.
The songs are usually sprightly, sometimes sweet, and the lyrics have to be heard to be fully appreciated. One falls a little flat -- The Brotherhood of Man. It works if taken to be meant as the baloney that it so obviously is. None of the tunes is really powerful, though "I Believe In You" is, marginally, a standard today. I'd have enjoyed seeing more vigor in the songs and dances. Bob Fosse would have done wonders with the numbers but then it would have turned the film upside down. The songs are only ancillary. The real story depends on plot and character and doesn't need too much music because it would be a distraction.
There are some laugh-out-loud moments in it, and it's well worth seeing.