As the President of the United States is touring out west, a sniper is awaiting him, with his European-manufactured rifle pointing down from a high window. The assassin is a mentally-disturbed ex-serviceman in the pay of powerful vested interests ... However, this is not Dallas in November 1963, but an eerily accurate foreshadowing, made nine years earlier.
Suddenly is a drowsy little Californian town whose peace is broken one sunny Saturday afternoon when it transpires that the President will step off his train here, to transfer to a limousine for the journey into Los Angeles. Frank Sinatra plays John Baron, the psychotic killer who arrives in town intending to kill Suddenly's most illustrious visitor.
Todd Shaw (Sterling Hayden) is the town sherriff, and like western sherriffs of an earlier age he is strong, decent and resourceful. He is courting Ellen Benson (Nancy Gates), Suddenly's beautiful widow, whose husband died a war hero. Being a regular kind of guy, Todd is trying to fix up a date with Ellen which will involve accompanying her to church on Sunday morning. Ellen's six-year-old son (played by Kim Charney) is known by the nickname 'Pidge'. Pidge is a good kid who wants to be a peace officer when he grows up, and on the strength of this career ambition Sherriff Shaw buys him the cap pistol which Pidge's mother has steadfastly refused. In Todd's eyes, it makes no sense to disapprove of firearms: "Guns aren't necessarily bad. Depends who uses 'em."
Pop Benson (James Gleason) is an Eisenhower lookalike and Pidge's grandfather. Formerly a secret serviceman, he is renowned far and wide for his probity and straight talking. "I'm an American, aren't I?" asks Pop, needing no other philosophy in life. Within seconds of making his first appearance in the film, Pop is sounding off about "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness". When his home is being searched without warrant by men he takes to be FBI agents, he welcomes them with, "I get quite a kick outta this!"
And so the scene is set. Baron's small team of crooks will occupy the Benson home in order to set up their sniper's nest. Ultra-patriotic Pop and his family will do their best to resist the invaders.
"Suddenly" has some very noticeable flaws. The labouring of the 'dangerous electricity' point is clumsy. Though this tiny 'burgh' is crawling with state troopers and secret servicemen, nobody hears the gunfight in the Benson living-room. Todd lamely explains it away by surmising that a passing train must have 'muffled it'. What possible reason can Baron have for sending Benny down into the town? Nothing can outweigh the risk that he will be detected - as indeed he is. And how come Baron, the man who feels like God when he has a gun in his hand, fails to notice that Pidge's cap pistol has been exchanged for a real revolver? How is it that, minutes after the end of this dramatic siege, life in Suddenly is back to prosaic normal?
Despite these infelicities (and the mystery of how Baron knew the President's schedule so intimately) "Suddenly" is a very enjoyable film. Lewis Allen's terse direction keeps the story taut and dramatically interesting, and Sinatra is excellent as the psycho. Watch for his sick smile as he hurts the man with the broken arm!
As well as being eminently watchable, this neat little thriller is also surprisingly thought-provoking. "You've got that duty look in your eye," says Baron scathingly to Shaw, identifying succinctly the difference between the two men. Shaw's honour-code puts patriotism before life itself, whereas Baron's perverted values scorn altruism. He works for money - and the pleasure of killing. "I did a lot of chopping in the war," repeats Baron in a sort of mantra, and Shaw learns to exploit this preoccupation. He grasps that Baron's self-esteem is grounded in his combat record, and he starts to use Baron's psychological kinks against him. One of the film's deep-structure themes is the central role of the family in both the nation's life and the life of the individual. America will be strong and safe as long as it continues to produce families like the Bensons. Conversely, Baron's sad neglected childhood has created a warped psychopath. The attempt on the President's life is launched with a crisp "Let's go to work." One wonders if Tarrantino was consciously using the identical phrase for the start of the robbery in "Reservoir Dogs".
Main Street has to be cleared of Americans before the President can set foot in it. The people cannot enter into the presence of their chief executive officer, and he dare not move among his fellow citizens. What does that say about America?
Suddenly is a drowsy little Californian town whose peace is broken one sunny Saturday afternoon when it transpires that the President will step off his train here, to transfer to a limousine for the journey into Los Angeles. Frank Sinatra plays John Baron, the psychotic killer who arrives in town intending to kill Suddenly's most illustrious visitor.
Todd Shaw (Sterling Hayden) is the town sherriff, and like western sherriffs of an earlier age he is strong, decent and resourceful. He is courting Ellen Benson (Nancy Gates), Suddenly's beautiful widow, whose husband died a war hero. Being a regular kind of guy, Todd is trying to fix up a date with Ellen which will involve accompanying her to church on Sunday morning. Ellen's six-year-old son (played by Kim Charney) is known by the nickname 'Pidge'. Pidge is a good kid who wants to be a peace officer when he grows up, and on the strength of this career ambition Sherriff Shaw buys him the cap pistol which Pidge's mother has steadfastly refused. In Todd's eyes, it makes no sense to disapprove of firearms: "Guns aren't necessarily bad. Depends who uses 'em."
Pop Benson (James Gleason) is an Eisenhower lookalike and Pidge's grandfather. Formerly a secret serviceman, he is renowned far and wide for his probity and straight talking. "I'm an American, aren't I?" asks Pop, needing no other philosophy in life. Within seconds of making his first appearance in the film, Pop is sounding off about "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness". When his home is being searched without warrant by men he takes to be FBI agents, he welcomes them with, "I get quite a kick outta this!"
And so the scene is set. Baron's small team of crooks will occupy the Benson home in order to set up their sniper's nest. Ultra-patriotic Pop and his family will do their best to resist the invaders.
"Suddenly" has some very noticeable flaws. The labouring of the 'dangerous electricity' point is clumsy. Though this tiny 'burgh' is crawling with state troopers and secret servicemen, nobody hears the gunfight in the Benson living-room. Todd lamely explains it away by surmising that a passing train must have 'muffled it'. What possible reason can Baron have for sending Benny down into the town? Nothing can outweigh the risk that he will be detected - as indeed he is. And how come Baron, the man who feels like God when he has a gun in his hand, fails to notice that Pidge's cap pistol has been exchanged for a real revolver? How is it that, minutes after the end of this dramatic siege, life in Suddenly is back to prosaic normal?
Despite these infelicities (and the mystery of how Baron knew the President's schedule so intimately) "Suddenly" is a very enjoyable film. Lewis Allen's terse direction keeps the story taut and dramatically interesting, and Sinatra is excellent as the psycho. Watch for his sick smile as he hurts the man with the broken arm!
As well as being eminently watchable, this neat little thriller is also surprisingly thought-provoking. "You've got that duty look in your eye," says Baron scathingly to Shaw, identifying succinctly the difference between the two men. Shaw's honour-code puts patriotism before life itself, whereas Baron's perverted values scorn altruism. He works for money - and the pleasure of killing. "I did a lot of chopping in the war," repeats Baron in a sort of mantra, and Shaw learns to exploit this preoccupation. He grasps that Baron's self-esteem is grounded in his combat record, and he starts to use Baron's psychological kinks against him. One of the film's deep-structure themes is the central role of the family in both the nation's life and the life of the individual. America will be strong and safe as long as it continues to produce families like the Bensons. Conversely, Baron's sad neglected childhood has created a warped psychopath. The attempt on the President's life is launched with a crisp "Let's go to work." One wonders if Tarrantino was consciously using the identical phrase for the start of the robbery in "Reservoir Dogs".
Main Street has to be cleared of Americans before the President can set foot in it. The people cannot enter into the presence of their chief executive officer, and he dare not move among his fellow citizens. What does that say about America?