" The Hucksters, " I guess, is on a par with the novel from which it derives. Perhaps it's a bit better. Anyhow, the kiddies (Many Hal and Little Ewwen) keep their mouths shut most of the time, and the heroine, Deborah Kerr, doesn't plead with the here, Clark Gable, as she did in the novel, to hold her foot. As a balance to the advantage of having the wee ones fairly mute, we have in "The Hucksters" the handicap of Mr. Gable, who does little but dimple at every provocation. The story, as you could hardly avoid knowing by now, concerns itself with an advertising chap who apathetically turns against the trade, though he never makes a criticism of his profession more penetrating than one that might occur to a backward child. In the movie, Mr. Gable throws money away not once, as the hero did in the book, but twice. This is reminiscent of an ancient sturdy vaudeville skit called "Money, Money, Money," in which everybody threw his cash away because it was coming in so fast, but I'm afraid that in "The Hucksters" the gesture isn't quite as funny. In the role of a man who looks suspiciously like a character we shall call George Washington Hill, Sydney Greenstreet is superb, and Adolphe Menjou is fine as an advertising man with ulcers, no confidence, and a difficult account. Miss Kerr - whose importation from Erhard, oooops England, I believe, cost Mr. Mayer more than you'd visualize in your mosy mercenary dreams - is wasted.
Soap, Success, and Gable
Radio takes a well-deserved beating in " The Hucksters, " and even if the love story does leave you a little baffled, the film is something of a departure in social comment. In fact, according to the trade paper Variety, network and advertising agencies are "hopping mad" at the movie, especially at those sequences in which radio is " shamed rather than ridiculed. "
When the film, which is based on Frederic Wakeman's best-selling novel, is taking radio commercials and commercialism for a ride ( " Love that soap! " ), it is broadly satiric and genuinely funny. When it tries to settle down to such mundane matters as love and ethics and little children (the heroine is a widow with two), the script leaves a lot to be desired. However, the over-all effect, as romance follows industry from New York to California and back again, automatically assures success at the box office.
It is difficult for the outsider to say how accurately Wakeman has reported what goes on when great minds get together over a conference table and consider the sale appeal of a singing commercial. Nevertheless, the commercials evolved by Gable and his confreres sound suspiciously like the real thing, and the chances are that these master salesmen are legitimate, if wickedly burlesqued characterizations.
Whether he is playing a reluctant yes-man with his tongue in his cheek, or tracking down a radio comedian to his Hollywood lair, Clark Gable plays the brash exploiter of Beautee Soap with conviction and restraint. Making her American debut, the British actress Deborah Kerr is charming and practically perfect as the girl who takes Gable's mind off soap.
Some of the best spots are supplied by supporting players. Ava Gardner walks off with a good portion of the footage as a smalltime singer waiting for a chance at the big time. Keenan Wynn clicks solidly in a brief bit as a ham radio comic. Adolphe Menjou is excellent as the harried head of an advertising agency that pathetically depends on Gable to solve its sponsor trouble.
But it is Sydney Greenstreet as the great Evan Llewellyn Evans, the oversized Napoleon behind a million bars of Beautee Soap, who roots the film in its satirie comment and supplies the greater part of its gusto. (THE HUCKSTERS. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Arthur Hornblow Jr., producer. Jack Conway, director.)
CINEMA
New Picture
TIME July 21st, 1947
} The Hucksters ~ (M-G-M) an adaptation of Frederic Wakeman's blustering, best-selling assault on radio advertising, hands Clark Gable his first good job since demobilization, and presents Britain's beautiful Deborah Kerr (TIME, Feb. 19th, 1947) in her first U.S. film.
Victor Norman ( Gable ) is quite an operator. Women of all sorts tumble for him like so many roundheeled dominoes, and he clearly qualifies for a fancy future in radio advertising. He knows, to perfection, how to walk into a cushy job by appearing to walk out on it; how to hook a gentlewoman ( Miss Kerr 0 for a soap testimonial; how to turn out a commercial ( "Love That Soap" ) that turns even his own stomach; how to finesse a sharp deal and how to make it stick by the application of blackmail. Above all, he knows how to please his agency's most fearsome client, Mr. Evan Llewellyn Evans ( Sidney Greenstreet ). Vic seems predestined for radio's ulcer brackets. But Miss Kerr's gentility seduces him into true love; and Mr. Greenstreet's ferocious bullying eventually goads him into selfrespect.
Possibly Hollywood, which is capable of blushing, has heard about the pot and the kettle; in any case, unsure pacing and thin delivery cause a lot of the wickedest haymakers against radio and money-love to land rather light. For all Actor Greenstreet's enthusiasm, Soap Sponsor Evans is so fantastically brutal that most people may think him a freak, rather than a personification of one kind of big-business tyranny. And Adolphe Menjou, expert as he is as the head of the agency, appears more interested in getting laughs than in illustrating what a man can do to himself for the sake of money. Some of the picture's trimmings are shrewder stuff. There are viciously funny glimpses of a commercial mphotographer, a comedian ( Keenan Wynn ), an actor's agent ( Edward Arnold ) and two skilled scripy-plumbers; and the singing commercials are as horribly funny as the real thing. ava Gardner is lush as the nightclub singer and Clark gable plays his huckster firmly.
It is still too early to tell what Hollywood will do with Deborah Kerr, or vice versa. She has to huckster a pretty thin role for an actress of her charm and ability - and do what she can with it while M - G - M is huckstering the daylights out of her. She goes through the assigned paces with a good grace, refining them with considerable shrewdness and as much concern for more serious artistry as the heavily commercial traffic will bear.
