Now that I know the back story on Pal Joey, I can sort of appreciate the film a bit better. I didn't like it for years because of Frank Sinatra. Suppose I'm in the minority on that one, but I just didn't like the character leading so many women astray- young, old, rich, poor, etc. Two things made me reconsider the story: (1) The girls allow themselves to be played, and (2) PJ originated from a stage musical almost 20 years earlier, with much of the original story intact. The character *is* a heel- 'nuff said. It was created by, of all people, Gene Kelly-- whose screen characters often included a touch of the larcenous in the first place. And apparently, Columbia tried to film PJ with Kelly waaay back in the 1940's when he was the right age to do it-- but the Hays censors raised too many red flags on the film's decidedly 'adult' content to let it be filmed. By the time it was cleared for film, 17 years had passed and Joey's heel had become a Sinatra crooner rather than a Kelly dancer, and much of the book and lyrics had been watered down. (When you think about it, JOEY needs to be re-filmed today, but with its original stage content. Can you imagine?!)

Anyway, now that I look at Sinatra, the-cynical-50's rat-packer playing Joey, the-cynical-50's-womanizer, I have to conclude that he got it exactly right, culminating in one perfect scene in the film: his piano-playing, spotlight croon of "The Lady Is a Tramp" to socialite Rita Hayworth. Just like Astaire seduced women with dance, Sinatra completely breaks down the icy Hayworth through the clever arrangement and performance of the song. At the end of it, THEY are slow-dancing. Wicked!! Other fine moments include Sinatra's treatment of "I Didn't Know What Time It Was," the breathtaking ballad "My Funny Valentine," and the smoky-voiced Hayworth in two numbers: a pretend striptease to the very clever song "Zip" and waking up in the most luscious state of drunken love to "Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered." (No one but Hayworth could make rising out of bed- in a sun-colored nightgown- a thing of sexy beauty.)

Unfortunately, this is where the parts do not equal a decent sum. The book has Joey caught between *two* women, and Kim Novak, for all of her traffic-stopping sex appeal, seems out of place as the second girl in the equation, perennially starry-eyed for a man more than twice her age and more of a doormat than a 'mouse,' as she is referred. If that was the original book, then I demand a rewrite. I was under the impression that the virginal ingénue was supposed to resist Joey and his charms, which made him want her all the more. (Once again, the idea of doing JOEY with a modern cast and sensibility seems irresistible today.) Novak does a very funny drunk scene on a boat, and her Victorian striptease is smoldering, to say the least. But an 11th-hour fantasy number called "What Do I Care for a Dame" is silly looking because it features too many people who can't dance. And I've heard other legends about the story's change from the stage: It's supposed to be set in Chicago, not San Francisco; the older woman is married, not widowed; and no one ends up with anyone at the end. For a story with an almost flawless musical score, it is one of the bumpiest films I've ever seen. But I'm glad I saw it.