Come Blow Your Horn Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		3.0
Video		4.0
Audio		3.5
Extras		0.0
Overall		3.5

Come Blow Your Horn Blu-ray Movie Review

All in the family.

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman April 6, 2012

There’s a rather interesting amalgamation of talents in Come Blow Your Horn, in that several not-quite-legends- yet were thrown together in a film that was a modest success in its day and is all but forgotten now. Neil Simon is one of the few American playwrights whose name is instantly recognized by just about everybody, but in 1963, when Come Blow Your Horn was released, he was largely known only to television cognoscenti who were aware of his work on Sid Caesar’s Your Show of Shows. Come Blow Your Horn, his first solo comedy on Broadway had premiered two years earlier on the Great White Way to respectful if not exactly rave reviews, and had managed a respectable run netting it a film adaptation option. Simon would have to wait another couple of years until after The Odd Couple and Barefoot in the Park opened (and were subsequently filmed) before the public at large would start to recognize him as a “brand”. Also behind the scenes of the film adaptation of Come Blow Your Horn were two other talents who had already started to make names for themselves on the small, flickering screen of television, but who hadn’t yet erupted into the mainstream consciousness. Norman Lear and Bud Yorkin had partnered in the late fifties to form Tandem Productions after having written and produced for various other television projects individually. On Come Blow Your Horn, Lear adapted Simon’s play and Yorkin directed. A few years later they would set the medium of television on its head with their legendary All in the Family and would go on to be probably the most iconic creative duo in the medium for the rest of the seventies. Lastly, co-star Tony Bill, who made his screen debut in this film, never really caught the brass ring of cinema stardom despite working steadily for decades. He had perhaps greater success as a director and especially as a producer, winning an Oscar in 1973 as one of the producers of The Sting. That’s a rather impressive slate of nascent talent wrapped up in one project (one that for the moment ignores some equally iconic people in other roles), but alas it’s largely for naught in a film that wants to be a kind of naughty sex comedy, albeit with aspirations of also delivering a Message (capital M) about maturity and responsibility. Simon hadn’t quite perfected his punch line timing yet in Come Blow Your Horn, and that leaves at least some of the comedy falling fairly flat, especially seen now with the cynical hindsight of our post- ironic age. The Message (capital M) was never really much of an element to begin with and seems even sillier now in retrospect.

Frank Sinatra, the very definition of a household name, stars in Come Blow Your Horn as swingin’ bachelor (you expected anything less?) Alan Baker, a guy who has escaped the stultifying atmosphere of his Jewish (no, I’m not kidding) home manned by his completely stereotypical parents, portrayed by Lee J. Cob and Yiddish Theater icon Molly Picon. Still under the wing of these kvetching elders is Alan’s little brother Buddy (Tony Bill), who decides he’s had enough of the stifling ambience as well, taking off to drop in on big brother at his lush Manhattan penthouse. That sets up a dialectic between little brother, who wants the free and breezy lifestyle of Alan, and big brother, who is slowly beginning to realize maybe it’s time to stop playing the field and finally settle down.

Come Blow Your Horn is probably the most dated of the Neil Simon sixties oeuvre (though 1966’s The Star Spangled Girl, which was filmed in 1971, is a very close contender), and as such it needs to be seen through the prism of its era. When the play opened on Broadway in 1961, the United States was rife with the youthfulness of the Kennedy Administration, and if “free love” wasn’t quite yet on the horizon, the nation as a whole seemed to be breaking free of the parental Eisenhower years (much like, in fact, the Baker boys with their parents). And when the film opened in the early summer of 1963 the nation hadn’t yet been visited by the tragedy of assassination, and even the simmering conflicts over Civil Rights seemed to be confined—if only for a brief, not so shining moment—to some “other” that didn’t really touch or affect the lives of most Americans.

Most of the comedy here arises from the admittedly cliché ridden dialogue of the Baker parental units, played to perfection by Cobb and Picon. There’s window dressing galore in terms of Alan’s revolving door of girlfriends, including Jill St. John, Barbara Rush and Phyllis McGuire, as well as a couple of off the wall cameos, including a rather lame appearance by Dean Martin obviously shoehorned into the proceedings for no other reason than to cash in on the notoriety of The Rat Pack, and an even odder (if that’s possible) bit featuring Hoss himself, Dan Blocker, as the cuckolded husband of one of Alan’s conquests.

The performances are largely pitch perfect, with Sinatra doing what is obviously a tailor-made version of himself, and Bill really winning as the lothario in training. Sinatra’s preferred songwriting team of Van Heusen and Cahn crafted a title song that is interpolated into the proceedings, quasi-musical style, in a montage featuring Alan getting Buddy up to speed with appropriate apparel. Perhaps surprisingly, the song wasn’t a major hit and failed to receive an Academy Award nomination, something the songwriting duo regularly nabbed in those days. (The film’s nice Art Direction and Set Decoration did receive an Oscar nomination).

Come Blow Your Horn is dated, but it’s fitfully entertaining and at least occasionally quite funny, at least when Cobb and Picon are on screen. If the film remains mostly a relic of a bygone age, it’s a fascinating curio presenting a number of “not quite ready for prime time” players about to make their collective mark on mainstream pop culture. These Baker Boys may not be exactly fabulous, but they're at least pretty good, and that may be enough to recommend this outing to catalog film lovers.

Come Blow Your Horn Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

Come Blow Your Horn is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of Olive Films with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 2.35:1. This is one of the stronger looking masters that Paramount has provided to Olive for licensing, with solid, well saturated and accurate looking color and some appealing sharpness and clarity, with fine detail very appealing in the film's close-ups and midrange shots. Some of the location footage suffers from relative softness and just some very slight fading, and the elements here do occasionally display some very minor damage, with a couple of scratches, flecks and specks dotting the landscape now and again. There are some very brief stability issues on patterned surfaces like brick façades that feature some slight aliasing and shimmer, and there is one weird flash with some scratching at around 6:20 into the film (right when Cobb turns from the hall closet).

Come Blow Your Horn Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

Come Blow Your Horn is another Olive release featuring a well rendered lossless DTS-HD Master Audio mono mix which capably reproduces the film's limited sonic spectrum. The opening title sequence with Nelson Riddle's instrumental treatment of the Cahn – Van Heusen title song sounds just slightly boxy, but after that, the fullness of this track opens up substantially and the rest of the film sounds rather good, especially considering its age. Frank's singing midway through the film is in great shape, with nice modulation through all frequency ranges. There's no damage to report on this track, which may not have much "wow" factor, but which gets the job done with a minimum of fuss and bother.

Come Blow Your Horn Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Come Blow Your Horn simply isn't the laugh-a-thon that Simon's The Odd Couple is, and it rarely rises even to the soufflé level of Barefoot in the Park, but taken on its own merits (and within its decidedly dated context), it has its own pleasant albeit fairly minor charms. The principal cast is game, the film is colorful and makes good use of some Manhattan locations, and the supporting turns by Lee J. Cobb and the wonderful Molly Picon provide most of the film's sparing belly laughs. This may not be prime Neil Simon, but even substandard Simon is generally better than the bulk of most comedies, whether from the "Dark Ages" of the early sixties or in fact yesterday or today. This is another solid looking transfer that Olive has licensed from Paramount, and despite the lack of extras, for collectors interested in seeing some early work from Neil Simon, Norman Lear and Bud Yorkin, this release comes Recommended.