Burt Lancaster was "The Swimmer", John Cheever's surreal fantasy and an unforgettable character on the big screen. Efrem Zimbalist Junior needs to thank the casting gods (of Chrysler Theatre) for being "The Sojourner" on the small screen, Stirling Silliphant's sterling adaptation of Carson McCullers' classic 1950 short story about a man finally coming to terms with his wasted life.
At first I was disinterested and somewhat disappointed watching Efrem, cast as a successful foreign correspondent, leading a globe hopping existence and leaving a girl in every port as he moved on aimlessly with his life. I grew up with the handsome but stony Efrem on a weekly basis, watching him star on "77 Sunset Strip" and later "The F. B. I". He was not your typical action hero, but projected intelligence: brains, not brawn.
But here he starts off this show as completely unsympathetic, holding in his true feelings but given to outbursts against everyone -the man is carrying around a ton of bad karma. Flashback structure shows him jealous and nasty to his wife Vera Miles, walking out on her after two years of marriage, behaving very badly. He even blows up over nothing with his boss (Herschel Bernardi) in a bar when the man merely wonders if he's seen his ex-wife lately.
In the bar is a jazz singer played by Marion (a/k/a Marian) Montgomery, whose rendition of "You Go to My Head" cues one of Efrem's flashbacks about Vera. Montgomery is credited on screen only for "songs sung by...", not her acting, but her vocal performances here on-screen are outstanding, perhaps the best element of the show. Vera Miles' work is a close second, providing the hour's warm center and delivering the heartbreaking revelation that serves as the story's climax.
With a fine ensemble cast down the line, Efrem finally vindicates the casting, as his naturally cool approach to acting makes it all the more powerful when he finally realizes how he's sleepwalked through life, only to find there's still a bit of time to make up for what he's missed (and to stop mistreating other people, especially women). A more emotive actor in the Brando or Newman vein might have broadcast his inner feelings from the git-go, so having the granite-faced Zimbalist turns out to make the final reel transition all the more poignant.
At first I was disinterested and somewhat disappointed watching Efrem, cast as a successful foreign correspondent, leading a globe hopping existence and leaving a girl in every port as he moved on aimlessly with his life. I grew up with the handsome but stony Efrem on a weekly basis, watching him star on "77 Sunset Strip" and later "The F. B. I". He was not your typical action hero, but projected intelligence: brains, not brawn.
But here he starts off this show as completely unsympathetic, holding in his true feelings but given to outbursts against everyone -the man is carrying around a ton of bad karma. Flashback structure shows him jealous and nasty to his wife Vera Miles, walking out on her after two years of marriage, behaving very badly. He even blows up over nothing with his boss (Herschel Bernardi) in a bar when the man merely wonders if he's seen his ex-wife lately.
In the bar is a jazz singer played by Marion (a/k/a Marian) Montgomery, whose rendition of "You Go to My Head" cues one of Efrem's flashbacks about Vera. Montgomery is credited on screen only for "songs sung by...", not her acting, but her vocal performances here on-screen are outstanding, perhaps the best element of the show. Vera Miles' work is a close second, providing the hour's warm center and delivering the heartbreaking revelation that serves as the story's climax.
With a fine ensemble cast down the line, Efrem finally vindicates the casting, as his naturally cool approach to acting makes it all the more powerful when he finally realizes how he's sleepwalked through life, only to find there's still a bit of time to make up for what he's missed (and to stop mistreating other people, especially women). A more emotive actor in the Brando or Newman vein might have broadcast his inner feelings from the git-go, so having the granite-faced Zimbalist turns out to make the final reel transition all the more poignant.
