When it comes to making a comedy that `works' (read: Generates some real LAUGHS), if you start with a polished script, plug in the right actors and find a director with some insights into human nature, a good sense of timing and enough experience to know just when to push which buttons, you can win the gold. Well, in 1979, a trio of producers-- which along with William Sackheim included the director, Arthur Hiller, and one of the lead actors, Alan Arkin-- started with a polished screenplay (by veteran screenwriter Andrew Bergman), plugged in the right actors (Alan Arkin and Peter Falk) and found a director (Hiller) with plenty of insights into the human condition, an impeccable sense of timing and a resume that included experience working with the likes of Jack Lemmon, Walter Matthau, Bette Midler, Steve Martin, Dudley Moore, Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor, and-- you guessed it-- they struck gold, big time, with `The In-Laws,' an hilarious comedy that examines what happens when an ordinary guy is placed in an extraordinary situation. And it all begins simply enough with the impending marriage of his daughter, and the day he meets the people who, for better or worse, are about to become her in-laws, as well as a part of his own extended family. With the emphasis definitely NOT on the `better.'
Sheldon Kornpett (Arkin) is a dentist with a successful practice in New York, a loving wife, Carol (Nancy Dussault) and a daughter, Barbara (Penny Peyser), who is engaged to Tommy Ricardo (Michael Lembeck). The wedding is less than a week away, and the Kornpett's have yet to meet the Ricardos, due to the fact that Tommy's father, Vince (Falk), purportedly the owner of something called Trans Global Enterprises, is rarely around or home long enough for the soon-to-be-related families to have that all-important get-together. Finally, however, it's all arranged, and the Kornpett's anxiously await the arrival of Vince and his wife, Jean (Arlene Golonka) to their home for dinner. And though Sheldon doesn't know it yet, it's a night that is going to change his life forever; and by the day of the wedding, he will have done things and been to places he wouldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams, all courtesy of his newest and best friend, Vince Ricardo.
The film opens with a glimpse into what appears to be the covert existence of Vince Ricardo, for whom Trans Global is obviously a front of some kind. So the viewer already has a leg up on Sheldon, who at this point has no reason to take Vince at anything other than face value. Until they meet and spend an evening together, during which time Vince relates a most bizarre story and has his penchant for taking concealed phone calls in such places as the basement revealed, which raises more than a few questions in Sheldon's mind. It's a scene worth it's weight in gold, which Hiller uses to establish the nature of Sheldon and Vince's personalities, as well as the relationship between the two strangers who in a few days will be family. And in that one hilarious scene, you realize instantly that you're dealing with a cinematic incarnation of an odd couple that's going to rival Neil Simon's Felix and Oscar.
Bergman's dialogue is incisively witty, and Hiller emphasizes the contrast between the two men to great effect, parlaying it all into some of the most memorable scenes you'll ever see in a comedy. The one, for example, that takes place on a remote airstrip (suffice to say that Sheldon has been roped into something he'd rather not be a part of and would just as soon forget about as soon as possible); bullets are flying, Vince and Shelly (as Vince calls him) are pinned down and they have to make it across an open space to a car, but running straight away isn't an option. `Serpentine, Shell, serpentine!' yells Vince, in what turns out to be an uproarious classic from amongst all of the classic scenes from any of the best comedies ever made, one that puts the laugh meter through the roof.
There may be a touch of `Columbo' in Vince, but overall this is one unique character and Falk plays him for all he's worth. On the surface, Vince is a screwball who is seemingly forever off in some Never-Never Land of his own devising, a guy who is hard to pin down, harder to read and seems to lack the focus necessary to get from point A to point B without the help of some kind of divine intervention. But underneath he's a sly one who never gets rattled and knows exactly what he's doing at every step of the way. So what initially appears to be a broadly sketched character is in reality concisely drawn and steeped in nuance. As portrayed by Peter Falk, Vince is a guy you're not likely to forget any time soon.
It's Alan Arkin, then, who chimes in with a character who is the perfect counterpoint to Vince. In Sheldon Kornpett, what you see is what you get. Arkin delivers a wry portrayal of a man to whom routine and normalcy is the barometer of life, a guy who fixes teeth for a living, provides for his family, has a nice home, a nice car and believes in a future for all that holds promise, with no reason to think otherwise. Until he meets Vince, that is. And he suddenly finds himself cast into a world he would deny to his last breath even existed. Arkin's performance is brilliantly understated, and the humor of the film evolves naturally and directly from the way he plays it SO straight, as well as the way he and Falk play off of one another. With precision timing and especially the performances of Arkin and Falk, `The In-Laws' is a memorable comedy that's going to have you literally on the floor, laughing until it hurts.
Sheldon Kornpett (Arkin) is a dentist with a successful practice in New York, a loving wife, Carol (Nancy Dussault) and a daughter, Barbara (Penny Peyser), who is engaged to Tommy Ricardo (Michael Lembeck). The wedding is less than a week away, and the Kornpett's have yet to meet the Ricardos, due to the fact that Tommy's father, Vince (Falk), purportedly the owner of something called Trans Global Enterprises, is rarely around or home long enough for the soon-to-be-related families to have that all-important get-together. Finally, however, it's all arranged, and the Kornpett's anxiously await the arrival of Vince and his wife, Jean (Arlene Golonka) to their home for dinner. And though Sheldon doesn't know it yet, it's a night that is going to change his life forever; and by the day of the wedding, he will have done things and been to places he wouldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams, all courtesy of his newest and best friend, Vince Ricardo.
The film opens with a glimpse into what appears to be the covert existence of Vince Ricardo, for whom Trans Global is obviously a front of some kind. So the viewer already has a leg up on Sheldon, who at this point has no reason to take Vince at anything other than face value. Until they meet and spend an evening together, during which time Vince relates a most bizarre story and has his penchant for taking concealed phone calls in such places as the basement revealed, which raises more than a few questions in Sheldon's mind. It's a scene worth it's weight in gold, which Hiller uses to establish the nature of Sheldon and Vince's personalities, as well as the relationship between the two strangers who in a few days will be family. And in that one hilarious scene, you realize instantly that you're dealing with a cinematic incarnation of an odd couple that's going to rival Neil Simon's Felix and Oscar.
Bergman's dialogue is incisively witty, and Hiller emphasizes the contrast between the two men to great effect, parlaying it all into some of the most memorable scenes you'll ever see in a comedy. The one, for example, that takes place on a remote airstrip (suffice to say that Sheldon has been roped into something he'd rather not be a part of and would just as soon forget about as soon as possible); bullets are flying, Vince and Shelly (as Vince calls him) are pinned down and they have to make it across an open space to a car, but running straight away isn't an option. `Serpentine, Shell, serpentine!' yells Vince, in what turns out to be an uproarious classic from amongst all of the classic scenes from any of the best comedies ever made, one that puts the laugh meter through the roof.
There may be a touch of `Columbo' in Vince, but overall this is one unique character and Falk plays him for all he's worth. On the surface, Vince is a screwball who is seemingly forever off in some Never-Never Land of his own devising, a guy who is hard to pin down, harder to read and seems to lack the focus necessary to get from point A to point B without the help of some kind of divine intervention. But underneath he's a sly one who never gets rattled and knows exactly what he's doing at every step of the way. So what initially appears to be a broadly sketched character is in reality concisely drawn and steeped in nuance. As portrayed by Peter Falk, Vince is a guy you're not likely to forget any time soon.
It's Alan Arkin, then, who chimes in with a character who is the perfect counterpoint to Vince. In Sheldon Kornpett, what you see is what you get. Arkin delivers a wry portrayal of a man to whom routine and normalcy is the barometer of life, a guy who fixes teeth for a living, provides for his family, has a nice home, a nice car and believes in a future for all that holds promise, with no reason to think otherwise. Until he meets Vince, that is. And he suddenly finds himself cast into a world he would deny to his last breath even existed. Arkin's performance is brilliantly understated, and the humor of the film evolves naturally and directly from the way he plays it SO straight, as well as the way he and Falk play off of one another. With precision timing and especially the performances of Arkin and Falk, `The In-Laws' is a memorable comedy that's going to have you literally on the floor, laughing until it hurts.