A Face in the Crowd (1957) Pouring Rain. Frank stumbles down the street in the driving rain.The hurricane meant little to him. On a regular basis, he had begun to contemplate shooting himself; however, three-day waiting period notwithstanding, he simply dreaded the mere act of going to the gun shop. Damn it, he mused, if only the liquor store sold razor blades he’d be in business. So, when the TV urged the parish to prepare to evacuate, he had merely stocked up enough booze to hold him until the crisis was over. TV tends to have that power over one… Frank laughs. A big, hearty guffaw. Just like the spiky-haired meth cook his ex was seeing——or, more importantly, just like Andy Griffith in Elia Kazan’s A Face in the Crowd (1957), available on DVD May 10 on Warner Home Video. Griffith plays “Lonesome” Larry Rhodes, a “drunk with a gee-tar,” discovered in an Arkansas jail by Patricia Neal (The Day the Earth Stood Still), a radio producer who believes that only true American music “comes from the bottom up.” With a couple pints of the ol’ snake medicine for good measure, Neal launches Lonesome’s soon skyrocketing career, in which he pushes everything in his will Rodgers-esque manner from Vitajex kidney pills to political candidates. Like Rhodes, Frank now felt the comfort of an always-handy bottle. And right now, he smiles again, knowing a case sitting in his bedroom with a full eleven fifths (the twelfth in his current possession) of Old Crow bourbon. He’d be safe for a couple of days, anyway. Other than that, his stomach had long since turned at the thought of food, as it was usually weakened by the alcohol.For his part, Rhodes’ trip to national acclaim is over-the-top quick (in one montage, they even name a mountain and a ship after him), and the dialogue is trying too hard to be clever all the time (“A job?” exclaims Rhodes, “That sounds too much like work.”). This leaves a long melodramatic plot slump in which in the middle of the film in which Rhodes dabbles in presidential politics and dumps the gawky Neal for Lee Remick (The Omen), a young southern belle and majorette in a scene, for the less backward-thinking, reminiscent of Kevin Spacey and Mena Suvari in American Beauty. Still Griffith remains charming in the part and has great chemistry with Neal, who clutches the top of her blouse shut coyly, even though the NYC backdrops show visible seams between the panels. And Remick’s presence doesn’t help one not think of Baby, the Rain Must Fall (with Steve McQueen) or Your Cheatin’ Heart with George Hamilton), but to be fair, these movies didn’t come out til the mid-1960s.But, despite the movie's flaws, what stands out is its early commentary on television and media and its effects on social mores and politics; it is very on-target with its talk of TV product, punditry and profitability. However, after the initial fun romp with Griffith’s Rhodes, the movie is slow-paced social commentary at best. It’s far from as powerful as the better-known Kazan-Brando vehicles (A Streetcar Named Desire, Viva Zapata!, On the Waterfront). It is as if Kazan, like Lonesome Rhodes, gets out of his element, when moving the story out of the backwoods and populist climes to the big city society. It is still a notable performance by Andy Griffith, known to most only as Sheriff Andy Taylor—or Matlock. And now, with the city empty of all but essential personnel, Frank staggers through downtown, drenched and damning the curfew, but needing to get out of his dark little apartment for a minute. He hates to be wet but the wind and a good film is invigorating nonetheless. The breeze whips through his jacket and he immediately reaches to assure that the 1st of his 12 soldiers remained safe in his pocket. It is. So he pulls it out, uncaps it and takes a substantial hit...