The Cavalier daily :: Tuesday, September 30, 1969 :: University of Virginia Library

If you have been wondering
what ever happened to those nice
guys in the film industry who
concerned themselves with stories
that have morals instead of sex and
violence, gather 'round for Uncle
Fred (director Coe) and Uncle
Martin (scenarist Zwelback) have
decided to tell us a fairy tale.

It is all about Natalie, a homely
little girl in Brooklyn who, at the
age of seven, crawled under her bed
and wouldn't come out because a
little boy called her "clown face."
Although she knew he was telling
the truth, she knocked his teeth out
with a shovel. This was the
beginning of an adolescence marked
by misery and loneliness. Poor
Natalie.

Her mother reassured her that
one day she would be pretty,
which, of course, was merely a
parental lie. So, Natalie sat around
feeling sorry for herself while her
friends went on dates and "made
the scene." After coming to the
conclusion that her parents were
finks, she set out on her own to a
place where she could find herself,
Greenwich Village. She bought a
motorcycle and, naturally enough,
found her Prince Charming, in
reality a handsome artist, to give
her the magic kiss. Inasmuch as
Uncle Fred and Uncle Martin are
faithful ganders, the rest goes
without saying.

Not Hopeless

Actually, the entire project is
not as hopeless as you might think.
Mr. Zwelback has written into his
screenplay some human situations
and characters that sporadically
come to the surface and take
precedence. For awhile, the premise
seems genuine and thus we accept
it. There is a striving for pathos that
is inherent to the story and, in the
beginning, we let our sympathies
flow to Natalie.

However, there is a limit to how
far our feelings extend. Natalie does
not really try to overcome the one
flaw in her character; she is forever
downgrading herself. And too, a girl
who is as clever and as imaginative
as she proves to be (she has several
funny lines throughout the movie)
is not going to be made fun of by
every boy in Brooklyn.

Disturbing Laughs

What is disturbing is that the
laughs often come at the expense of
character development. We wonder
at times if Uncle Fred isn't viewing
the whole set-up sardonically. For
example, when Natalie attempts to
commit suicide, the action does not
come off melodramatically. We
know she won't kill herself, thus we
can't become emotionally involved.
When she jumps off the dock and
lands in three feet of water (it was
low tide), we are supposed to smile.
Yet we are unable to because the
entire sequence is forced into the
story; it defies logic, but more
important it betrays the character
of the girl around whom the film is
centered.

Tribute To Cast

The fact that we are able to
swallow as much of this as we are
is, in part, a tribute to the actors
and actresses concerned. This applies,
especially, to Patty Duke,
whose portrayal of Natalie reestablishes
her as one of our finest
young performers. Through a calculated
display of various emotions,
she makes us take an interest in the
character even when we are
tempted to turn a cold shoulder.
Wearing a dog collar on her ankle,
riding a dumb waiter, learning
about life — she does all with a
sincerity that, unfortunately, is not
always present in the writing and
directing. She is true to her
character even when the creative
forces are not.

No Loser

Of the others, James Farentino
fares well as the artist who makes
Natalie realize that she isn't a loser
just because she possesses no facial
beauty, and Martin Balsam, appearing
early in the story as the uncle of
the ugly duckling who to him is a
"little princess," makes the most of
the film's best constructed role.

Derived From Formula

The net result is far above
mediocre, far below superb. There
are those who will thoroughly
enjoy "Me, Natalie" as it's derived
from a formula (once upon a time,
happily ever after, etc.) that's still a
source of fascination to many.
Nevertheless, it is predictable and
flawed and will probably be received
by most with indifference.

One final word to the creators.
While we may be less than enthusiastic
about your work, Uncle Fred
and Uncle Martin, don't worry
about it for a minute; Mother
Goose would be proud of you both.

(Now at the Barracks Road)