This thinly veiled account of Howard Hughes' life comes off as pulp trash. Daring for 1964 meant back nudity, allusions to abortions and pornography. You get all that here, plus the dubious benefit of innumerable historical anachronisms: cars that don't match the era (a nagging peeve of mine I'll admit) and the ubiquitous 1960's hairdos (which insidiously infected even the most prestigious productions like Doctor Zhivago). George Peppard's career was riding high at this point (and would continue through The Blue Max before personal demons and TV consumed him)--- he does here what he does best: being a good looking cold calculating bastard. Oddly, arguably the best thing about the film is the presence of Alan Ladd--- only 50 here--- who plays a cowboy star whose career is on the wane. Sadly, he looks as terrible as the way his life, liver and mental condition were going at the time. Bob Cummings does fine work as a conniving slimeball agent and Carol Lynley looks appropriately fetching. Icy Martha Hyer looks stiffly beautiful as always. Still, it just doesn't work, despite the moderately upbeat ending. This is what passed as "Adult Entertainment" in the early 60's folks. I still wonder why the then-very much alive (even though wearing Kleenex boxes for shoes) Mr. Hughes didn't sue. Hearst arguably came off better in Citizen Kane... at least that was a classic.
Review of The Carpetbaggers
