Following up their critically acclaimed Oscar winning triumph Marty collaboration, screenwriter Paddy Chayevsky and director Del Mann attempt to make lightening strike twice with another stroll down melancholy lane, The Bachelor Party. Morose and sluggish it only serves to re-enforce how moving a performance Ernie Borgnine gave in their previous treatment.
Glum family man Charlie Sampson (Don Murray) vacillates about attending a bachelor party with co-workers after quitting time. The boys spend the evening drinking and ogling but as the night wears on they become confessional about the disappointments they've been met with in life. Barging into a bohemian get together Charlie is momentarily mesmerized by a Beat (Carolyn Jones) delivering one rapid fire monologue and they plan a hook-up later in the night. Back at home his wife frets about the lack of spark in her life with a confidant (Nancy Marchand) who sets her straight about the realities of marriage.
With everyone in a deep state of torpor or frustration (save for scene stealer Jones) The Bachelor Party has little to celebrate as each member gets his opportunity to flaccidly expound on his hum drum existence. It's all talk and no action with a group of noxious whiners and silent suffering wives compartmentalizing and remaining in denial with a sell out ending that lazily allows itself to tie things up with hangovers and a musical flourish rather than attempt to get beyond its cliché scenario populated by lugubrious dullards and address the issue with a touch more verve.
Glum family man Charlie Sampson (Don Murray) vacillates about attending a bachelor party with co-workers after quitting time. The boys spend the evening drinking and ogling but as the night wears on they become confessional about the disappointments they've been met with in life. Barging into a bohemian get together Charlie is momentarily mesmerized by a Beat (Carolyn Jones) delivering one rapid fire monologue and they plan a hook-up later in the night. Back at home his wife frets about the lack of spark in her life with a confidant (Nancy Marchand) who sets her straight about the realities of marriage.
With everyone in a deep state of torpor or frustration (save for scene stealer Jones) The Bachelor Party has little to celebrate as each member gets his opportunity to flaccidly expound on his hum drum existence. It's all talk and no action with a group of noxious whiners and silent suffering wives compartmentalizing and remaining in denial with a sell out ending that lazily allows itself to tie things up with hangovers and a musical flourish rather than attempt to get beyond its cliché scenario populated by lugubrious dullards and address the issue with a touch more verve.