There’s no giving up with this obscure comedy
Of all the blockbuster releases to come out this past holiday season, few received as much enthusiasm and anticipation as Mary Poppins Returns. Virtually every fan of the first film was counting the days until they could relive the magic, which included the 2D animation and unique Poppins whimsy only author P.L. Travers and Disney could create. Reaction was mixed, but virtually everyone agreed that the highlight of Mary Poppins Returns was the emotional experience of seeing original cast member Dick Van Dyke, who (at a sprightly 93) reprises his secondary role from the first movie. Seeing an actor like Van Dyke (forever a master at exuding joy) on the screen is always a thrill, especially when it’s in conjunction with one of his most famous movies. However, if there’s one turn by the actor which many don’t often gush over, it’s his work in TV maestro Norman Lear’s unforgettable directorial debut Cold Turkey. If you’re a fan of Van Dyke’s, but can’t seem to recall this title, don’t worry. The film wasn’t always the easiest to find, nor did it have the same kinds of charms as Poppins, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, or even Fitzwilly. Still, there’s much to love about watching one of America’s greatest physical comedians try his hand at satire and come out the other end triumphantly.
Set smack dab in the heart of the Midwest, Cold Turkey centers on the people of Eagle Rock, a peaceful Midwestern town that is on the brink of economic ruin. When a major tobacco manufacturer named the Valiant Tobacco Company decides to award a large cash prize to any town who can refrain from smoking for 30 days, the stern but well-meaning Reverend Clayton Brooks (Van Dyke) decides that he and the good people of Eagle Rock can win the contest and save their town from falling under. However, the company’s marketing executive Merwin Wren (Bob Newhart) is determined to stop the town from completing the challenge, which he cooked up himself as a publicity stunt to improve the company’s image. Yet Merwin has little cause to worry as Clayton tries desperately to keep this town of chronic chainsmokers from going crazy and lighting up.
Van Dyke has always proven himself to be a capable leading man, so joyous and jubilant that audiences couldn’t help but embrace him. While vehicles such as Never a Dull Moment, Fitzwilly, and Some Kind of Nut were tailored to the popular persona he’d cultivated on his eponymous TV show, the actor’s efforts to venture into other creative territory were quickly shunned. The Art of Love and The Comic both remain very worthy entries from the actor, but their attempts at dark humor didn’t sit well with his fans. Faring even worse was The Runner Stumbles, Van Dyke’s lone straight dramatic feature film in which he surprised with a moving performance in a project not many saw. Just prior to Cold Turkey, Van Dyke did enjoy a hit with the Lear-scripted Divorce American Style, where the future TV titan earned a Best Original Screenplay Oscar nomination for teaming the star with Debbie Reynolds in a worthwhile take on the somewhat taboo topic of divorce in the late 1960s. The result gave Lear the clout he needed to adapt Cold Turkey’s source novel to the screen and re-team with Van Dyke for what both hoped would be another satirical send-up of modern-day society. However, the former’s knack for social commentary and the latter’s gift of audience-pleasing humor resulted in a somewhat Frankenstein’s monster of a film that’s a comedy beast all its own.
Taking the literary monster analogy just a little further, it’s hard not to spot the Jekyll and Hyde quality that flows throughout Cold Turkey. On the one side is the film’s satirical edge that provides a stinging social commentary on both corporate AND middle America. The movie wastes no time tearing apart the hugely powerful cigarette corporation and their nicotine-flavored hold on the whole of the nation. The fictional Valiant Tobacco Company is the perfect symbol of corporate America: a puppet master of an organization not just content on soaring profits, but who seems desperate to be liked as well. There’s also the idea that Cold Turkey is laughing at the ridiculous dependence of the everyman on name brand items (a motif Lear would also later explore brilliantly in Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman) and how much of their happiness, well-being, and virtual existence is both shallow and false.
On the other side of Cold Turkey lies a highly slapstick element that gives off something of an oddness in the way the film’s characters respond to their “plight.” Almost every citizen of Eagle Rock seems to be a chain smoker, regardless of age, profession, or overall social experience. There are moments including a woman trying to justify smoking one last cigarette because she fell asleep a half-hour before the ban went into effect (“I still have one half-hour coming to me,” she pleads to a friend on the phone) and a frenzied housewife proclaiming to her husband that she’s eaten a half dozen pieces of salami, two whole carrots, and multiple slices of bread before crying out, “…and it isn’t even 7am yet!” By the time the contest gets into the final stretches, the whole town has adopted a sort of third world mentality where every citizen is driven by a maniacal need to either get their hands on a cigarette (a temptation which Merwin is only too happy to stealthily help make come true) or do anything within their power to literally make time go faster.
Just like the film’s humor, Cold Turkey’s spirit is somewhat multilayered to the point where it cannot help but do battle with itself in its effort to ground the proceedings in a recognizable reality. There’s a real sense of nostalgia and Americana about the movie which is found amongst the madness. Neighbors knowing and depending on each other and the idea of a community functioning as a dysfunctional whole are richly illustrated. The movie also seems to carry a sense of both optimism and cynicism, signifying both sides of the Nixon era. The whole town genuinely thinks they can pull it off, but eventually are more than willing to give up so that they can light up. It’s that sort of writing which gives Cold Turkey a tragicomic feeling throughout, with every character clinging to one of society’s strongest vices in a way which suggests that life is meaningless without it. Lear’s film may feel greatly at odds with the Easy Riders and Bonnie and Clydes of the day, yet it ultimately proves itself to be a film with plenty to say.
Cold Turkey also has to contain what is perhaps Van Dyke’s most uncharacteristic performance. His Reverend Brooks is a man who has shades of a fire and brimstone mentality, combined with a steadfast belief in the people of his town. The pratfalls and funny faces that made the actor a household name may be absent here, but what exists in their place is a marvelous turn by Van Dyke as a straight man. The actor’s sternness comes across as authentic, making his subtle comic moments of determination and exasperation appear as delightful surprises. The film makes some pretty fun use of other sitcom stars, including Jean Stapleton and Tom Poston, as well as dependable character actors such as Vincent Gardenia and Barnard Hughes. No one has as much fun as Newhart, though, who enjoys every minute he’s on screen, relishing the delightful sliminess of his character and making him look utterly pathetic in the process.
The fact that Cold Turkey even exists at all is something of a miracle. According to a studio executive, the movie was only greenlit as a favor to its star, before it went quickly over schedule as its price tag increased. Consequently, the film was held from release for two years before becoming an immediate flop for the studio. In all fairness, it’s not difficult to see why audiences didn’t respond right away to the movie’s unusual tone. Even now, it’s hard to tell which is stronger: the film’s biting criticism or its comic outrageousness in what amounts to one of the oddest film experiences to bear Van Dyke’s name. The mixed reviews and the lack of commercial success of Cold Turkey didn’t help the star’s attempt to break away from his happy-go-lucky image, nor did it help establish Lear (who to date has yet to direct another movie) as a top Hollywood filmmaker. But these guys are legends, and they’re legends because they understand the science of laughter, which comes across in Cold Turkey in more ways than its original naysayers gave it credit for. Today Cold Turkey is only a little less obscure than when it was first released, but still remains a worthy experience for its blending of two very different kinds of TV comedy sensibilities and bringing that fascinating experiment to the big screen.
Cold Turkey is now available on DVD and Blu-ray from Olive Films.
