Blake Edwards dedicated "The Great Race" to Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy, a high standard to set for a comedy. One factor Mr. Edwards forgot, however, was that Laurel and Hardy comedies were low budget and relatively short, and brevity and comedy go hand in hand. Epic comedies with epic lengths, such as "It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World,' "Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines," and "The Great Race" may have funny moments, but they cannot sustain the laughs throughout their excessive running times. These films were all produced during the 1960's, when big budget roadshow movies were in vogue; overtures, intermissions, and exit music were essential to charge higher prices for reserved seats. Thus, many modest film concepts were inflated to justify special engagements.
"The Great Race" has a lot going for it, however. The charming opening titles mimic lantern slides from the silent era, and the classic cars and flying machines are a delight. The cast is also first rate. Jack Lemmon is Professor Fate, the dastardly Snidley Whiplash of the film, a sneering, mustached villain pitted against Tony Curtis as the Great Leslie, always immaculately clad in white, with teeth and eyes that occasionally gleam. Natalie Wood plays Maggie Dubois, a suffragette who manages to change from one dazzling costume and outlandish hat to another, no matter what her predicament. The stylish costuming also provides running jokes, not only with Wood's eye-popping outfits, but with Curtis's impossibly-white clothes that never get soiled. Although Lemmon is occasionally over-the-top in his dual role as Fate and as a Ruritanian prince, both Curtis and Wood do quite nicely. At times, like the film, Lemmon tries too hard, especially as the Crown Prince. Composer Henry Mancini tries a bit too hard as well; while "The Sweetheart Tree" is a nice song, by the closing credits, the audience has heard it one time too many.
The concept of a New York to Paris automobile race, similar to the plane race in "Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines," released the same year, provides lots of opportunity for comedy. However, the plot veers off into a "The Prisoner of Zenda" subplot that only dilutes the action and provides Lemmon with an excuse to overact. Pie fights and barroom brawls can be funny in the hands of such talents as Laurel and Hardy, but Edwards, obviously blessed with an astronomical budget, attempts to stage the biggest barroom brawl and the biggest pie fight ever. Like Stanley Kramer did with "It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World," Edwards tries too hard, and more becomes less. Despite excessive length, "The Great Race" has enough to merit a look; the sum of its parts is greater than the whole. If the budget had been slashed and the footage tightly trimmed to essentials, Edwards's fond look at silent comedy might have been the total winner he envisioned and merit the dedication to Laurel and Hardy.
"The Great Race" has a lot going for it, however. The charming opening titles mimic lantern slides from the silent era, and the classic cars and flying machines are a delight. The cast is also first rate. Jack Lemmon is Professor Fate, the dastardly Snidley Whiplash of the film, a sneering, mustached villain pitted against Tony Curtis as the Great Leslie, always immaculately clad in white, with teeth and eyes that occasionally gleam. Natalie Wood plays Maggie Dubois, a suffragette who manages to change from one dazzling costume and outlandish hat to another, no matter what her predicament. The stylish costuming also provides running jokes, not only with Wood's eye-popping outfits, but with Curtis's impossibly-white clothes that never get soiled. Although Lemmon is occasionally over-the-top in his dual role as Fate and as a Ruritanian prince, both Curtis and Wood do quite nicely. At times, like the film, Lemmon tries too hard, especially as the Crown Prince. Composer Henry Mancini tries a bit too hard as well; while "The Sweetheart Tree" is a nice song, by the closing credits, the audience has heard it one time too many.
The concept of a New York to Paris automobile race, similar to the plane race in "Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines," released the same year, provides lots of opportunity for comedy. However, the plot veers off into a "The Prisoner of Zenda" subplot that only dilutes the action and provides Lemmon with an excuse to overact. Pie fights and barroom brawls can be funny in the hands of such talents as Laurel and Hardy, but Edwards, obviously blessed with an astronomical budget, attempts to stage the biggest barroom brawl and the biggest pie fight ever. Like Stanley Kramer did with "It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World," Edwards tries too hard, and more becomes less. Despite excessive length, "The Great Race" has enough to merit a look; the sum of its parts is greater than the whole. If the budget had been slashed and the footage tightly trimmed to essentials, Edwards's fond look at silent comedy might have been the total winner he envisioned and merit the dedication to Laurel and Hardy.