James Franciscus gives his all as the somewhat believable eponymous hero of this long soap opera depicting the rise and fall of a young novelist. In a role turned down by Warren Beatty, Franciscus looks tremendous and and manages to bring enough life the film to make it work in its own terms. It begins as an old story: a green young writer from Kentucky gets his novel noticed by a New York publisher. Next thing we know, he's relocated and consorting with his young editor (Suzanne Pleshette) high society types, including the wife of the publisher (Geneviève Page). Hawke is also courted by Broadway performers who want him to write a play for them (John Emery and Mary Astor). Along the way, the author is conflicted by the vagaries of the publishing business (his first novel bombs, but the second wins a Pulitzer), by his changing loyalties to the women in his life, and by his strong connection to mother (Mildred Dunnock) and home.
Perhaps the best acting performance in the film comes from Geneviève Page, a French actress little known to US viewers. Page expresses multiple nuances of desire, anger and regret with minimal gestures. Her accented delivery intensifies, rather than hinders this performance. Pleshette gives her usual solid performance, but this actress may strike some as a bit chilly for the kind of character she plays. In a much smaller role, Mark Miller is excellent as a competing publisher who wants Pleshette for himself. Miller is a now-forgotten actor who had achieved brief notice on TV during this period. Eva Gabor delivers the kind of performance associated more with her notorious sister. She's more camp than character. Mary Astor and John Emery are just superb in their brief roles as aging stars of Broadway. It's instructive to see how much Astor in particular could bring to the few moments she actually has on screen. The only truly unacceptable acting in the film comes from the otherwise excellent John Dehner. He's all bluster and phony-accented overdrive.
YOUNGBLOOD HAWKE is a film of some pluses and few serious minuses. The major liability is the musical score by Max Steiner. For some reason difficult to discern, Steiner chose to base his score on a march theme. We hear it under the opening credits sequence, where it seems immediately out of place with the imagery. The march returns, ad nauseum, throughout. It really expresses nothing about Hawke or his story and only manages to annoy the viewer. Another horrible error is a Christmas-music medley that blares over Hawke's arrival in NYC (on Christmas Eve).
Sometimes this film recalls ALL ABOUT EVE in its occasionally biting dialog. There is even an Addison Dewitt surrogate in caustic book critic Quentin Judd (the superb Edward Andrews). Enough of Hawke's publishing career is played out convincingly to make the film memorable, but it's largely the soap opera aspects that dominate, played out against the book business and the vast panorama of New York City in the mid-1960s. Locations are a highlight. We see the gleaming, ice-cold structures in firm contrast to Hawke's Kentucky homestead, and the film makes its point that not everyone is suited to this sort of life
Perhaps the best acting performance in the film comes from Geneviève Page, a French actress little known to US viewers. Page expresses multiple nuances of desire, anger and regret with minimal gestures. Her accented delivery intensifies, rather than hinders this performance. Pleshette gives her usual solid performance, but this actress may strike some as a bit chilly for the kind of character she plays. In a much smaller role, Mark Miller is excellent as a competing publisher who wants Pleshette for himself. Miller is a now-forgotten actor who had achieved brief notice on TV during this period. Eva Gabor delivers the kind of performance associated more with her notorious sister. She's more camp than character. Mary Astor and John Emery are just superb in their brief roles as aging stars of Broadway. It's instructive to see how much Astor in particular could bring to the few moments she actually has on screen. The only truly unacceptable acting in the film comes from the otherwise excellent John Dehner. He's all bluster and phony-accented overdrive.
YOUNGBLOOD HAWKE is a film of some pluses and few serious minuses. The major liability is the musical score by Max Steiner. For some reason difficult to discern, Steiner chose to base his score on a march theme. We hear it under the opening credits sequence, where it seems immediately out of place with the imagery. The march returns, ad nauseum, throughout. It really expresses nothing about Hawke or his story and only manages to annoy the viewer. Another horrible error is a Christmas-music medley that blares over Hawke's arrival in NYC (on Christmas Eve).
Sometimes this film recalls ALL ABOUT EVE in its occasionally biting dialog. There is even an Addison Dewitt surrogate in caustic book critic Quentin Judd (the superb Edward Andrews). Enough of Hawke's publishing career is played out convincingly to make the film memorable, but it's largely the soap opera aspects that dominate, played out against the book business and the vast panorama of New York City in the mid-1960s. Locations are a highlight. We see the gleaming, ice-cold structures in firm contrast to Hawke's Kentucky homestead, and the film makes its point that not everyone is suited to this sort of life