PICNIC

Picnic is a prime example of what happens when a bunch of ordinary people get together to celebrate the last day of summer under a full moon: everyone goes insane.

Picnic is a prime example of what happens when a bunch of ordinary people get together to celebrate the last day of summer under a full moon: everyone goes insane. It all begins when Hal Carter (William Holden) comes to town to visit his old college buddy, Alan Benson (Cliff Robertson). He's a bit of a vagabond, but he's ready to turn his life around, and hopes Alan can help. Not realizing it's Labor Day, he knocks on Mrs. Potts' screen door and offers to do yard work in exchange for breakfast. After devouring a plate of cherry pie, he heads outside in his leather jacket. It's sweltering out there, but he's trying to hide his dirty shirt. Shucks, is that all? Well, why don't you just take them both off and we'll wash it for you? Soon all the ladies in the neighborhood are craning their necks to get a glimpse of our shirtless wonder.

This isn't the last time they'll try to get him out of his clothes, but who can blame them? Verna Potts spends her days taking care of her sickly mother, and the women at the Owens' house pass the time bickering and competing with one another. Mrs. Owens (Betty Field) keeps harping at her beautiful daughter, Madge (Kim Novak), to get married before she loses her looks. If she could hook Alan Benson, she'd be a member of the country club, but Madge doesn't love him, and she doesn't feel comfortable around those people. She's always huffing around saying, "I hate being pretty!", then quickly straightening her hair. Her younger sister, Millie (Susan Strasberg) is a teenage tomboy who'd rather read than think about boys or clothes, and she must be a little bit mental because she gets feistier than a cat in a bag if anyone calls her a goon. The Owens' boarder, a schoolteacher named Rosemary (Rosalind Russell), swoops in and out of the house, pretending to be a fabulous liberated woman, and making jokes about being a spinster.

With so little to think about, it's no wonder Hal captures everyone's attention on the day of the town picnic. He's definitely easy on the eyes, but he tells corny stories, calls everybody "baby", and moves with a manic energy that just wears you out. His #1 skill is carrying heavy objects over his head with one hand, and we're supposed to believe he went to college with Alan Benson on a football scholarship. Everyone keeps referring to him as a boy or young man, but he's clearly pushing 40, and looks quite a bit older than Alan. I did the math, and William Holden was a good seven years older than Cliff Robertson, which makes the probability of them being at school together almost nil. But let's not think about that—let's go to the picnic!

Remember that time in Charlotte's Web when Templeton ate too much at the fair, and the world went all whoopsy and psychedelic on him? Well that's how I felt watching the picnic part of Picnic. There is a hysterical quality to the festivities, like everyone is laughing too hard and talking too loud. We see random shots of crazy picnic fun—babies, three-legged races, singing, and a dog crawling into a picnic basket and out the other side. Isn't that funny?! The gaiety is enough to make your head hurt. And check out the watermelon stand, which practically causes a stampede—it looks like it's stocked to feed China.

As if this weren't wild enough, things only intensify as the sun goes down. Madge is crowned Queen of Neewollah (Halloween spelled backwards - HA HA HA!), then shares a dance with Hal. Seeing them together causes a short circuit in Rosemary's brain, and suddenly she realizes how lonely and love-starved she is. Before you know it, she's hiking up the men's pantlegs and ripping off Hal's shirt. Then she gets right in Hal's face and tells him to get a mirror, because he's not exactly a spring chicken. Well! As nutty as that little display is, somebody had to point out the obvious.

Then Millie throws up, and the townsfolk start to turn on Hal. He was Millie's escort, and not only did he let her get a little drunk, he's now coming onto her sister - his best friend's girl. Scandal! He runs away, but Madge follows. "Beat it baby," he warns, "I'm in a pretty bad mood." But Madge doesn't beat it. She stays with him until he confesses that his mother sent him to a reform school as a boy, and then she kisses him, because she knows just how he feels. Being pretty is practically the same thing as being in prison. Now we KNOW they're meant to be together, and nothing cinches it like the moment when Hal says, "I never said this to anyone, because I didn't want to sound like a freak, but I love you." No worries there Hal, you've given us plenty of other reasons to call you a freak.

It was my understanding that Picnic is a classic, but the whole thing struck me as a little unhinged. I assumed William Holden (whom I always enjoy) made it before Sunset Boulevard, but Sunset Boulevard actually came a full five years earlier. Poor Susan Strasberg is so over the top that you'd like to send her to an acting school. Oh wait! Her dad RAN an acting school. It's like everyone's talent just flew out the window for this movie. Maybe something to do with the full moon? Whatever the reason, Picnic offers up major so-bad-it's-good fun.