User Reviews

Paul Newman was able to show some bursts of comedy, rarely scene in his long, brilliant career in this 1963 thriller.

Edward G. Robinson has a field day playing 2 parts here of a physicist and supposedly his East German twin brother, thought of as being long since dead.

Too bad for Diane Baker here. At last, I thought she had a role that she could really get her teeth into. She is forced to work for the Communist East Germans when her supposed dead father turns up living and the Communists want him to change places with his physicist twin. They force Baker to work for them, but even in that, her role is limited.

Elke Sommer serves as Newman's assistant in Sweden when he wins the Nobel Prize in literature. While she is effective in the part as Newman's eventual lover, there are some scenes that she comes across as if she is in a picture with Bob Hope.

The picture is intriguing and tries to bring out that even Nobel Prize winners are human people with frailties as well as all of us.

Director Mark Robson and scriptwriter Ernest Lehman (both of From the Terrace) transformed the relatively serious Irving Wallace novel into a glossy blend of comedy, suspense, melodrama, romance, sex and international intrigue…

The complicated story concerns a group of Nobel Prize winners gathered in Stockholm for the ceremonies… Newman is the winner in Literature, although he's written only cheap detective thrillers (under pseudonyms) for the past five years… Another hard-drinking womanizer, he has plenty of booze, and a beautiful Swedish official (Elke Sommer) assigned to him… But he's distracted from these long enough to suspect that the Physics prizewinner (Edward G. Robinson) has been kidnapped by the Communists and replaced by a double… Naturally, nobody believes him

Copyright 24 October 1963 by Roxbury Productions. Released through Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. New York opening at the Radio City Music Hall: 23 January 1964. U.S. release: 25 December 1963. U.K. release: 1 March 1964. 12,120 feet. 135 minutes.

SYNOPSIS: Newly arrived in Stockholm to receive their Nobel Prizes are Andrew Craig (literature), Max Stratman (physics), John Garrett and Carlo Farelli (medicine), and Claude and Denise Marceau (chemistry). The first night Stratman, who is accompanied by his niece Emily, is kidnapped by Communist agents and his twin brother (Emily's father) takes his place. The plan is to remove the real Stratman to behind the Iron Curtain while his brother makes derogatory remarks about the U.S. during his acceptance speech. Craig, who had met the real Stratman, becomes suspicious of the impersonator and starts his own private investigation. As a result he finds himself in the center of an intrigue and several attempts are made upon his life.

NOTES: Location scenes filmed in Stockholm.

COMMENT: Mediocre entertainment at best. Its many faults include a dated, pot-boiler script about Russian spies on a kidnapping spree with E. Phillips Oppenheim impersonations. Whether to take the goings-on seriously or not is a big question. At times, the plot is obviously played for thrills, on other occasions for laughs.

A number of technical imperfections also cause viewer unease. These include blatant doubles in 2nd unit sequences, glaringly obvious process screen effects, and action spots that are amateurishly under-cranked. The direction is undistinguished, though reasonably fast-paced. Daniels' color cinematography is disappointingly ordinary throughout.

That the film is better than the sum of its parts is due almost entirely to the cast. Newman plays sullenly, if with an occasional mordant wit. In fact, he starts off well, but is let down by the script when his character as the scared pulp-writer who is being unwillingly drawn into the parallel world of his own creation — this time for real — is abandoned halfway through. Instead the character reverts to a standard heroic mold with acrobatics that include jumping on to the side of a high-speed truck to avoid knife-wielding assassins and a spectacular dive off a Stockholm bridge.

Unfortunately, there are still inconsistencies. Robinson fares better with an ingenious role which for some reason (tiredness) he plays at only half strength, relying for effect more on his heavy make-up than his native histrionic abilities. McCarthy as usual performs most capably in a minor sub-plot, whilst Miss Presle is unattractively photographed in another. Diane Baker has a thankless, if oddly appealing part, which she plays with little zest.

On the solidly credit side are the silkily attractive Elke Sommer, Rudolph Anders as Bergh, John Wengraf as the villain and Sacha Pitoeff as Daranyi, his shivery henchman.

An extremely convoluted plot that somehow makes for a very entertaining movie. Mark Robson, not the most imaginative director, whips up a Hitchcockian thriller starring Paul Newman as a Nobel Prize winner (for literature!) who slowly unravels a bizarre plot involving murder, kidnapping, two Edward G. Robinsons and a couple of silent killers. Newman is terrific, giving it his all as a drunken womanizer with a wicked sense of humor. Elke Sommer, in what may very well be her finest performance, is well-matched with Newman. She's very sexy and, as the film is set in Sweden, her accent does not get in her way. Diane Baker plays an unlikely bad girl and she steals the scenes she's in. Written by Ernest Lehman and featuring some direct lifts from his previous NORTH BY NORTHWEST.

For a Hitchcock knock-off, The Prize is not bad at all. There's an amusing situation (not Lincoln's nostril but the Nobel Prize ceremonies), scenic tours (not of the Riviera but of Stockholm), a gaunt killer (not an imported assassin who knows music but a waiter), a long, terrifying fall (not Madeleine Elster but Paul Newman) a supple blond ice queen (not Grace Kelly or Eva Marie Saint but Elke Sommer) and a dashing hero (not Cary Grant but Newman). And in an odd sort of way, it's Paul Newman who is as much a drawback to the movie as a plus.

Newman plays Andrew Craig, an American author who has run out of steam after two great books. He's been awarded the Nobel Prize for literature and has arrived in Stockholm, full of martinis and self-loathing, for the award ceremonies. Craig is on his way to becoming a lush. The Nobel committee has assigned him a keeper, Inger Anderson (Elke Sommer), to keep him out of trouble, away from the booze and to see that he minds his manners. She's not altogether successful. At the hotel, Craig meets Dr. Max Stratman (Edward G. Robinson), an émigré after WWII from Germany who is now an American citizen. Stratman is receiving the Nobel for physics. They chat and agree to meet for further discussion the next day. Craig also meets Stratman's niece, Emily Stratman (Diane Baker). Yet at the next morning's press briefing, where all the Nobel winners have gathered to meet reporters, Stratman acts as if he's never met Craig before. Only we know why; Max Stratman has been propositioned to defect to East Germany...and when he refused, he was abducted and replaced by his twin brother, Walter Stratman, from behind the Iron Curtain. It's not long before Craig catches on that something nasty is happening. Partly out of concern for Max Stratman, partly out of boredom, he sets out to answer the questions that keep popping up in his head. Along the way he finds a body, is pushed off a tall building into an ocean channel and nearly killed by a tugboat, is threatened and then almost run over by a car, finds himself in an eery psychiatric hospital and then, pursued by two killers, in a meeting hall filled with nudists. What can he do but take off his clothes to blend in? At the climax, he finds himself clamoring around the cargo holds of an East German freighter where only he seems to believe the villains have hidden Stratman. And all along he is either helped or hindered, take your pick, by Inger Anderson and Emily Stratman. It's easy to tell who the bad guys are, but not so easy to figure out which of the two women is playing a double game.

While all this is going on, preparation for the Nobel ceremonies is taking place...the receptions, the rehearsals, the getting-to-know the other winners, some of whom turn out to play key roles, especially the two who have won the Nobel for medicine. They dislike each other intensely yet find a grudging friendship when they must work together to save a key character. Best of all is Leo G. Carroll as Count Bertil Jacobson, charged with making sure everything at the ceremony moves smoothly. Carroll, a veteran of Hitchcock films, is droll and understated.

Why is Newman essential to the movie? Because he has star power, and we recognize it as soon as he appears on the screen. Hitchcock was at his best with strong, charismatic actors. Newman provides the same strength here. Why is he also a weakness? Because he's no Cary Grant. The Prize is the same kind of international adventure, romantic and stylish, as are To Catch a Thief and North by Northwest. Where Grant could effortlessly turn irony into amused charm, however, Newman turns irony more often into a kind of petulant sarcasm, especially when he's acting half in the bag. And where Grant and Kelly melted the celluloid, Newman and Sommer don't make many sparks. They're playful, find themselves in compromising positions, smile out a few hopeful double entendres, but it's all just pleasant acting. On the other hand, Edward G. Robinson brings a great deal of authority to his role. There's not much of him in the second half of the movie. In the first half, however, we get to see him as an avuncular, kindly and smart old man, someone we can believe would make a man like Craig become concerned about, and then as a cold-eyed, deliberate and not-so-kind character.

All-in-all, The Prize is a snappy, reasonably fast-paced cold-war adventure, a lot of fun to watch. I enjoy it whenever I see it. I just wish Hitchcock and Grant had made it.

Every once in a while a movie diamond comes out from the rough. I sought out Paul Newman's 'lesser known' movies. The couple I had seen whilst good were not anything spectacular, but I then stumbled across The Prize. Whilst not expecting anything too entertaining, I was, to my delight, proved wrong. It was magnificent. One of Newman's top performances.

Despite the negativity of the cinema critics, The Prize was box office gold for MGM studios, and the movie-going public made it one of the most popular tickets during Christmas of 1963.

The opening scenes of the movie are quite clever. We are introduced to the winners of the Nobel prizes and the viewer is given an introduction to the main supporting cast. We meet the joint winners for Chemistry Dr Claude Marceau (Gerard Oury) and his wife Dr Denise Marceau (Micheline Presline). Claude and Denise are married, yet Claude shares his physical needs with his accompanying "secretary" (Jacqueline Beer). The prize for Medicine is shared by Dr John Garrett (Kevin McCarthy) who is convinced fellow winner Dr Carlo Ferrelli (Sergio Fantoni) stole his research. The Prize for Physics has been won by American physicist, Dr Max Stratman (Edward G Robinson) who has been joined by his niece, Emily Stratman (Diane Baker). One Nobel winner is missing –American novelist, Andrew Craig (Paul Newman), who has won the prize for Literature.

Andrew's fondest for alcohol, womanising and his general cynicism for the Nobel Prize, prompt the Swedish Foreign Ministry to allocate him a chaperone for his stay – the beautiful Inger Lisa Anderson (Elke Sommer in her first American film appearance). We meet the novelist flirting with a flight attendant arriving into Stockholm late because of a rendezvous with a young woman. Andrew is introduced to Dr Max Stratman whilst checking into the hotel. Both men agree to meet the next day for a drink, with Dr Stratman determined to give the young author some advice in accepting the Noble Prize humbly. As Andrew spends the night indulging in alcohol and the flashing his charm at every young woman in Stockholm, Dr Stratman is being abducted and an impostor put in his place to accept Stratman's Nobel Prize.

At the Nobel Prize press conference the next morning, Andrew lets the world in on a little secret – he has been suffering writer's block for the last five years and as a consequence has been earning money by writing detective stories. It is Andrew's 'nose' for detecting mysterious occurrences to make him realise that something is not quite right with 'Dr Stratman' – he doesn't seem to recall meeting Andrew from the night before……..

As Andrew becomes caught up in trying to unravel the sinister plot to smuggle the real Dr Stratman behind the Iron Curtain, attempts are made to kill him. Naturally when he reports the situation, no one believes him, because Andrew's reputation for being an alcoholic trouble maker has indeed preceded him. He is therefore warned to stop creating problems. To make matters more complicated, Andrew and Lisa fall under each other's spell and they start a romance, and Lisa realises that Andrew is indeed telling the truth about Dr Stratman's abduction. Together they must save Dr Stratman and the Nobel ceremony, as well as trying to prevent an international incident at the same time.

It is now up to both Andrew and Lisa to save the real Max Stratman from being smuggled behind the Iron Curtain and preventing the impostor Stratman from receiving the Noble Prize and publicly denouncing his loyalties to America.

As Andrew ends up in one comedic situation after another, the other supporting actors come in to play. They are absolutely fantastic, providing for a hilarious and witty journey for all involved.

The screenplay was written by Ernest Lehman – the screenwriter for Hitchcock's North by Northwest. This is where the unfair and biased comparisons start to play upon the viewer's judgement of the film. Whilst North by Northwest is a traditional Hitchcock thriller/mystery, The Prize is a delightful comedy. A word of warning for fans of North By Northwest; The Prize is not meant to be taken as a serious spy thriller. It simply invites the viewer to enjoy the frivolities and comic situations of a group of people who could not be more different.

After playing such intense and character roles such as Eddie Felson and Brick Pollitt previously, Newman was able to completely relax and enjoy playing a comedic role. He is absolutely delightful as the flirtatious and handsome young novelist. Elke Sommer is gorgeous as Andrew's chaperone and eventual romantic interest. It is wonderful to see how skilfully she helps her character develop from treating Andrew with icy distain, to falling in love with him. Micheline Praline and Diane Baker are beautiful as Denise Marceau and Emily Stratman. Both are fine actresses.

To those who admire Paul Newman's work, I urge you all to see this movie. Despite the kudos he receives for his dramatic roles, this is one of his top line movies. It is often disregarded, and to my mind, unfairly. It is absolutely wonderful and I loved it. To those who simply like a bit of a laugh and some wonderful actors hamming it up, it is the perfect way to spend a quiet Saturday Night relaxing. If you enjoy it, spread the word. They certainly don't make them like this anymore.

An enjoyable comic thriller filled with familiar incidents. If, in "North by Northwest," Cary Grant is pursued in an open field by an airplane, here Paul Newman is chased back and forth by a murderous car on a long bridge. If, in the first, Grant must make himself enough of an annoyance in an auction to be rescued by the cops, here Newman must do the same at a meeting of nudists in a gymnasium. It's not too surprising since both films were written by the same man, Ernest Lehman. You can REPEAT yourself but you can't PLAGIARIZE yourself. Lehman even throws in an image from a Hitchcock number he had nothing to do with. In "Saboteur", the heavy falls from the Statue of Liberty. Here he falls from a rooftop in Stockholm and is impaled on the sword of a huge statue below. And the substitution of the evil Robinson for the good Robinson is from Hitchcock's "Foreign Correspondent."

Newman is a former literary star, invited to Stockholm to accept a Nobel Prize, who has lost his willingness to try and now devotes himself to writing detective novels under a nom de plume and to drinking martini after martini. As far as the alcoholism goes, though, he remarks near the beginning, "Ewww. This is my third martini and I haven't even had breakfast yet," so he retains his amateur standing.

Anyway, the booze business is dropped once he's swept up into a Cold War plot to substitute a faux scientist, a twin of Edward G. Robinson, who is a benign American scientist. At the awards ceremony, the Soviet ringer plans to make a speech condemning free enterprise, capitalism, the exploitation of the working class, the decadence of the West, miniskirts, shaved legs, hair mousse for men, electronic fussball, and Yosemite Sam. The genuine Robinson has been kidnapped and the sinister Robinson has taken his place. The difference between the two is nicely done -- mostly a matter of having the good Eddie smiling weakly and the bad Eddie scowling and sounding like Little Caesar in retirement. Make up has added darker, thicker eyebrows to the evildoer.

It is Newman's self-appointed job to unravel the plot and restore the correct Robinson to his justified place on the dais at the ceremony. He will be helped by his toothsome chaperone, Elke Sommer, whom he squeezes so vigorously at one point that she complains he is breaking her "rips", something any normal man would enjoy doing.

The inquiry takes Newman through myriad Swedish settings, from grand parties at the royal palace, through filthy rusting ships, to hotels in which he must run through the corridors wearing only a towel around his waste -- everybody's favorite nightmare.

The direction by Mark Robson is professional and so are the performances. Paul Newman is a bit of a surprise. He's never been particularly good outside of dramas but he's quite effective here. Watch him try to explain to the skeptical Stockholm police that he has discovered the body of a murder victim and add that the body has now disappeared. Oh, the body has disappeared? Newman looks momentarily taken aback as he realizes how ludicrous this sounds, hesitates, then plunges determinedly ahead -- "Well . . . yes!" Cary Grant would have walked away with this part but Newman carries the ball well.

The whole thing is a wanton ripoff of Hitchcock but it's so amiable and so funny in its characters, situations, and wisecracks, that it doesn't really matter. You'll probably enjoy it.