Strikingly designed and photographed melodrama about racial tensions in America, one of only a handful of major studio films to show Americans being swept up in Nazi propaganda and connecting with it. A black psychiatric doctor recalls to his colleague a case from the 1940s which he almost gave up on, that of a racist and Jew-hating prisoner entangled in hate-mongering. The narrative is laden with flashbacks, but they are very stylishly presented, and director Hubert Cornfield (who also co-wrote the screenplay with S. Lee Pogostin, from Robert Lindner's short story) keeps the tension prickly and unsettling. Pugnacious Bobby Darin does a lot of spouting off as the racist, though his angry words (coming strictly from his character's point of view) are provocative; he needles doctor Sidney Poitier, literally getting under his skin, yet we can see he's a liar who won't listen to reason--or learn anything long-lasting from his sessions. So what is the point of all this? Is it that you shouldn't give up on somebody, even though you realize you're not going to break through to them, that they'll be just as rotten now as they were a year ago? As an actors' piece, the film is a worthwhile showcase for two terrific performers. As a think-piece, it certainly has the courage of its convictions. As an entertainment, it's a crackpot venture. **1/2 from ****

Watch this film and not only will you realize how good singer Bobby Darin could be in a dramatic role, but you may come to regard its co-writer / director Hubert Cornfield ("The Night of the Following Day") as an under-rated talent. It's mostly a two character piece in which an eminent psychiatrist (Sidney Poitier) attempts to help one of his employees (Peter Falk) by telling a story of the major case of his life, when he was a prison doctor during WWII. Poitier was assigned a young man (Darin), jailed for sedition, who's very upfront about his bigotry and hatred. Not surprisingly, the patient had a traumatic childhood and now suffers from nightmares and blackouts. Poitier tries to maintain his professionalism, but the young man sets off something inside of him.

Poitier as always has a very authoritative presence and he and Darin work extremely well together. They have a lot of dialogue to deliver and completely immerse themselves in these troubled characters. Darin reveals enough depth here that people may wonder why he didn't pursue more serious roles. Cornfield creates some wonderfully stark atmosphere and stylish visuals, but never goes overboard, having the proper respect in the source material, a true case detailed in Dr. Robert M. Lindners' "The Fifty-Minute Hour". Some moments are quite memorable, such as the scenes with the patients' unloving father (James Anderson), a butcher. There's also an incredible scene of an epic session of tic-tac-toe that could have come off as silly but which has a powerful creepiness about it.

Overall, this is an effectively done little drama that isn't as well known as it ought to be. It's well worth seeing for the interplay between Poitier and Darin alone.

Eight out of 10.

Splendidly acted social drama produced by Stanley Kramer. As is usually the case with Kramer productions (except perhaps "It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World"), "Pressure Point" looks at society and the human condition, finding much to admire, but also much to deplore. Sidney Poitier is on the side of righteousness, playing a black prison psychiatrist whose ideals are challenged by his patient, a bigoted Nazi played by singer Bobby Darin.

The film is most impressive for its refusal to pander to an audience whose enjoyment might be enhanced if all the conflicts between the protagonists were resolved at the conclusion, but "Pressure Point" does not compromise its own integrity by pretending to provide easy answers to the questions it raises. Doctor and patient do not reach an understanding-- they do not embrace each other at the end, nor does the film suggest that society has benefitted from the encounter between two such disparate souls. Life simply goes on, and so do its troubles. "Pressure Point" makes its point subtly without a lot of sanctimonious preaching, and is more effective as a result.

The two stars are well matched with Poitier bringing his usual humanity and quiet pride to a role that does not place as much emphasis on his skin color as one would expect in a 1962 production. Darin is simply superb as Poitier's patient, and one can't help but admire the popular crooner for having had the courage to inhabit such an unappealing character at a time when he was still one of pop music's most prominent "teen idols" (and husband of America's sweetheart, Sandra Dee). The cinematography, music, and direction (by Hubert Cornfield) match the performances perfectly.