DVD Review: TONY ROME / Gordon Douglas (1967)
December 1st, 2008 by Scott Marks
Tony Rome (1967)
Directed by Gordon Douglas
Written by Richard L. Breen from a novel by Marvin H. Albert
Starring: Frank Sinatra, Richard Conte, Jill St. John, Simon Oakland, Gena Rowlands, Sue Lyon, Lloyd Bochner, Lloyd Gough and Jilly Rizzo as “Card Player”
Photographed by Joseph Biroc in 
and DeLuxe Color
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: 
Forgive my brief lapse of sequel dyslexia by reviewing Lady in Cement before Tony Rome.
The first voice you hear belongs to Frank Sinatra’s youngest and most successful daughter Nancy who lyrically cautions viewers that they had better lock up their daughters if they don’t want the character played by her father to get them. Nowhere near as homophobic or sexist as its sequels, Tony still begins with a zap zoom into a sexy butt, inexplicably match cut with a boxer’s behind. An hour later, Tony appears to have stepped into a reel of The Killing of Sister George.
Marvin H. Albert’s source material provides a Raymond Chandler-lite (The Little Sleep?) detective yarn perfectly suited for that season’s Sinatra vehicle. Tough monkey Tony quit the force and became a P.I. after his cop dad put a gun to his head and redecorated the apartment. Ralph Turpin, played by Robert J. Wilke, Written on the Wind’s bartender with a “hair trigger,” call his ex-partner to the hotel he now “dicks” at. Even though the dissolution of the partnership was acrimonious, Rome goes so far as accusing Turpin of getting his kicks hanging around schoolyards, Ralph stands behind upright Tony. He swears that “Georgia would sooner elect a colored governor” than Tony would rat out a source. Turpin calls in a favor and asks his old buddy to help cover for a rich dipsomaniac, Diana Pines (Sue Lyon), found passed out in one of the rooms. Diana eventually leads Rome to her wealthy adoptive family who before long all offer him $500 a day plus expenses to solve their personal mysteries. What entails involves the usual amount of dirty film noir secrets, stolen jewelry and, what else, homicide.
Tony lives on a houseboat and spends much of Lady in Cement dressed as a Miami beachcomber. Tony Rome’s Tony wears a dapper, man-tailored suit and cocked fedora that transform the Miami Beach gumshoe into something left over from the Songs for Swinging Lovers album cover.
Jill St. John takes ‘Rome’ by storm.
Rome’s wardrobe is much more impressive than his list of romantic conquests. Women, still categorized as “good girls,” “babys,” sweethearts,” “odds and ends” and “goodies,” apparently have no place in the busy detective’s life. When Jill St. John asks to stop for a romantic drink, Tony produces a flask from his glove compartment. Gena Rowlands appears interested, but Tony don’t mix with other guy’s broads. Sue Lyon (five years after Lolita) offers sex in exchange for a stolen diamond pin. A dreamy Deanna Lund and dumpier than usual Joan Shawlee are both his for the asking, yet for 110 minutes, Tony never seals the deal. (Jerry Lewis fans have undoubtedly forgotten Ms. Lund’s performance in Hardly Working and Joan Shawlee was Billy Wilder’s resident on-screen tramp.) The closest he comes to sex is a confrontation with a prospective client in search of her lost cat. The double-entendre “pussy” dialog will no doubt leave you flabbergasted, if not laughing.
As if wanting to let the world know that he was up to date on the current state of sexual deviancy, Frank saw to it that each film in the so-called “Tony Rome” trilogy factored in at least one dirty bit guaranteed to jolt and arouse. With the exception of a questionable Lloyd Bochner, this Rome adventure ignores the gay boys, focusing instead on a little girl-on-girl action. Arriving at her pad, sexy Deanna Lund finds Tony questioning her piggish “roommate” (Elisabeth Fraser). Fraser blasts her stripper galpal for undressing in front of a strange copper. Lund suggests her portly playmate shed a few pounds. Blows are exchanged and before long Tony turns off the lights and quietly leaves the rough trade lovebirds alone.
It’s better made, but in a certain way less interesting than its sequels. Douglas’ direction is as leaden as always — two-character conversation scenes instantly digress into one angle, one take each affairs — but not as glaringly faulty. Car rides play on actual locations, not studio rear screens, and DP Joe Biroc is allowed a few extra minutes to artfully compose an occasional shot.
As was his custom, many of Frank’s paisans were given a day’s work and a hot meal. Richard Conte goes through the motions as a long suffering lieutenant who drew Rome duty. When Tony appears on a crime scene, it’s a sure bet Lt. Santini is driving up the block. He follows Tony closer than July does June. Joe E. Ross pops up as a bartender, but vanishes before he can fire off so much as one “Oooh!” In an unprecedented dramatic turn as a contract killer, Vegas funnyman Shecky Greene’s mugshot still managed to draw the film’s biggest inadvertent howl. Rocky Grazziano has a walk-on as a punch drunk tie salesman called “Packy.” (A boxer named Packy…Hmm…I wonder.)
Sinatra’s uninspired film noir retread appears to have been born of boozy Cliff’s Notes dispensed by drunken Rat Pack mentor Humphrey Bogart; Sam Marlowe by the numbers. Tony Rome is to film noir what Sergeants Three is to Gunga Din: a throwback to a simpler time when audiences demanded more and were given it.
Tags: detective film, DVD Review, film noir, Film Review, Frank Sinatra, gordon douglas, jill st. john, lady in cement, marvin h. albert, tony rome, tony rome reviewShare: 
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Love the Bob Hope reference! Let’s see how many others can pick it up. Ring-a-ding-ding, baby!