The very sentimental CHARLY has not dated well, but still remains intriguing for its premise and for Cliff Robertson's Oscar-winning performance. He plays the title character, a retarded man who becomes a genius after having experimental surgery which has successfully cured mentally
defective mice. Charly then falls in love with his teacher (the luminous Claire Bloom), but when he learns that the operation's results are only temporary, he angrily denounces his doctors--and society--at a scientific symposium and eventually regresses to his former state.
Cliff Robertson, who had starred in TV versions of "The Hustler" and "Days of Wine and Roses," only to lose those roles to Paul Newman and Jack Lemmon and see them both of them nominated for Oscars in the feature film adaptations, made sure that the same thing wouldn't happen to CHARLY and bought
the movie rights to the story after starring in a 1961 television version. His perseverance paid off and he finally won his own Oscar. He gives an earnest and intelligent, if somewhat mannered performance, which, not surprisingly, is more effective after Charly's surgery when he's struggling to
deal with his newfound mental capacity, than when he's rolling his eyes, slurring his words and talking out of the side of his mouth as the retarded Charly.
The film's main problem is that director Ralph Nelson virtually ignores the philosophical elements of the story and emphasizes its most maudlin aspects, while throwing in a little sci-fi, romance, and spurious social commentary. His flashy style includes annoying zooms, pointless split-screen
sequences, superfluous sight-seeing tours of Boston, and tasteless pseudo-documentary footage of a class of actual retarded children. The film is historically interesting mostly as a star-vehicle for Robertson, and as an example of the kind of liberal material that was once considered to be daring
in the 1960s. leave a comment --Michael Scheinfeld
