The ending rivals anything in Hitchcock, as Major Marco (Sinatra) races down
corridors and hallways in a vain attempt to halt a catastrophe. It is all both
nightmarish, as it is compelling.
The performances are uniformly excellent. Laurence Harvey commands
fear and sympathy for his brainwashed Raymond Shaw. His foolish pursuit of
romance and a normal life have all the pathos of Chaplin. Janet Leigh is fine as
the psychiatrist, as is John McGiver as a hapless liberal senator. James Gregory
takes on the thankless role of an obnoxious conservative politician. All the
characters, however, seem to pivot on Raymond Shaw's mother. No figure in
horror films, from Dracula to Freddy Krueger, was as truly frightening as this
waspish and controlling woman from hell. Angela Lansbury lowers the
temperature of every scene she is in. She sets up, and utimately sells out, her
own son. Her evil is breathtaking! It is all the more remarkable when you
realize that Lansbury was only three years older than Laurence Harvey, who
plays the son!
The Manchurian Candidate was attacked by some for being a flight of
fancy. Imagine a world of assassinations, political ambiguity, and manipulation
of the masses. Like Frank Capra's Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, whose
authenticity was also suspect, history has proved it right. When Sinatra finally
allowed it to resurface in 1988, it had become an anomaly. This was the era of
Rambo, and The Manchurian Candidate ran counter to Hollywood's dream
machine. Since then, it has steadily built a cult following among critics and film
enthusiasts. I only wish it WERE a fantasy!
THE FALLBROOK VILLAGE NEWS, October
5, 2000