Cactus Flower
Dizzy Comedy | 103 Minutes | 1969 | United States
(3.5/4)
Director: Gene Saks | Producer: M. J. Frankovich | Writer: I. A. L. Diamond | Based on: Cactus Flower by Abe Burrows | Starring: Walter Matthau, Ingrid Bergman, Goldie Hawn, Jack Weston, Rick Lenz | Music: Quincy Jones | Cinematography: Charles Lang
More than mere confection, which by nature lies there enticingly and dwindles the more that we eat, and just like the titular cactus which sits on dental assistant Stephanie Dickinson’s desk, cannily marking her transformation, Cactus Flower positively blossoms. The third film in three years from director Gene Saks – hot on the heels of two resounding Neil Simon success stories in Barefoot in the Park and The Odd Couple – it features a curious, attention-grabbing cast, co-starring Walter Matthau, Ingrid Bergman, and Goldie Hawn, making her first credited role after coming to fame in television sketch comedy.
Hawn stars as Toni Simmons, a twenty-one year old lost in the city, who attempts to commit suicide by gas poisoning after being stood up by her lover, the considerably older dentist Dr Julian Winston (Matthau). Winston enjoys his relationship with Toni partly because he has been pretending to be married, with three children: in fact he remains an ageing bachelor, but the pretence of marriage serves to protect his time and saves him from making other commitments. His assistant, Stephanie Dickinson (Bergman), anyway proves a handy surrogate, not only taking his appointments and chasing patients for their overdue dental fees, but also covering for Winston’s absences, and making him sandwiches, chicken and egg salad, which according to Stephanie are the sandwiches Julian likes best.
Toni’s suicide attempt fails dismally thanks to the keen attention paid by a neighbour, Igor Sullivan (Rick Lenz), an aspiring writer more Toni’s age. When Julian learns of the incident, he rushes to Toni’s side, and realising the extent of his feelings for her, decides that they should be married. The problem is that Toni absolutely hates lying. Therefore rather than confessing his ruse, Julian needs a divorce. That necessitates a third participant, someone willing to play the role of his soon to be ex-wife. At which point, enter again Stephanie Dickinson.
Cactus Flower really revolves around these third wheels, these third participants, as Igor and Stephanie are – at least at first – to Toni and Julian. Couples, laden with one extra, splinter off and recouple. This provides the movie, rarely for a comedy, with a sense of ever-gaining, whirligig momentum and with fizzing interpersonal chemistries.
Matthau, Bergman, and Hawn are each great actors, but with different associations here at very different stages of their careers: Hawn just starting out and broadly comic; Bergman known more for her dramatic roles, an actress of grace and humility yet whose warmth always seemed to come from a place of austerity; and Matthau, who from his first appearance on screen always seemed on the cusp if not quite part of an older generation, lined and withered and cantankerous yes, but somehow spry too both physically and mentally.
At first Matthau and Bergman, and separately Matthau and Hawn, seem like odd couples, strained pairings, differing so much not only in age and association and gravitas but also in style and temperament. Yet their chemistry flourishes as the film progresses, Toni’s idealism pushing the world-weary Julian around even as she slightly pulls away from him, while Stephanie and Julian at first share the clipped mannerisms befitting assistant and boss, their relationship deepening and becoming more glib and equal as Julian’s haphazard schemes ironically allow for Stephanie’s self-expression.
And again, amid the confusion and matchmaking and mismatches, there is the flutter of real comedy as well as some of the sentiment of companionship. Cactus Flower reaches its climax in a couple of scenes set inside the Slipped Disc, a groovy new nightclub full of Art Nouveau stained glass and higgledy-piggledy seating arrangements, with plenty of space in between for dancing. Toni dances with Igor and they have fun, Stephanie dances with Igor and there’s something better, Julian – out of his element – sits glumly watching, and there is a wonderful turn from one of the great character actors of the period, the hilarious Jack Weston as Julian’s freeloading yet put-upon friend Harvey Greenfield.
Hawn’s Toni is wide-eyed and can contort her face, slapstick style, into near parodies of human emotion, at once humorous and poignant. But at moments with Julian and especially with Igor, she is also knowing. Bergman shows a surprising penchant for physical comedy and comedic unconstraint. Cactus Flower features an equally psychedelic score courtesy of Quincy Jones, and with other set-pieces in The Guggenheim, at a car showroom, in a record store and at a hot dog stand, there’s more than enough breathing space.
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