This film is one of the entries in "The Fifty Worst Films of All Time (and how they got that way)" by Harry Medved and Randy Dreyfus. Oddly, I have made it my life's work to see all 50 of these abominations and this film marks the 43rd film from this list I have seen (a dubious distinction, I know). I like an occasional bad film--mostly because they are so entertaining for their ineptitude. However much I love this book (it is brilliantly written), the list is horribly outdated--there have been many horrid movies since the book was written. Plus with the greater availability of films (Medved did his list back in the 1970s--even before videotapes were available to the general public) many monstrosities now on video, DVD or cable were never considered for inclusion. While I am sure many of the films on this list STILL would remain if a new list were created, many (like this film) would not. Now I am NOT saying that "Say One For Me" is a good film--it's god-awful. But it just doesn't rise (or sink) to the level of awfulness to be included in any worst of list.
As far as this film is concerned, I assume it did more to help the cause of worldwide atheism than any other--it was that terrible. It's the sort of film that Hollywood often did in the guise of an inspirational film but it was so jam-packed full of schmaltz and irrelevance that today you wonder why it was made in the first place. My guess is that its creation can be attributed to two things. First, the success of Bing Crosby in "Going My Way" and "The Bells of St. Mary's" had to get executives to consider a sequel...of sorts. But, after a decade plus, the magic just wasn't there. Second, the 1950s was a decade for religious spectacles and religion was, in a cynical way, quite bankable at the time--even if many of the films really had nothing to do with spirituality or God.
In this film Crosby plays, what else, a priest. However, this time it finds him serving in the entertainment district in New York--and many of his parishioners are show people. And, being so tragically hip himself, he, too, is a crooner and gave up a career in lights for a career hanging out with choirboys. But, to show that he can relate to his people, Bing often gives them lessons on singing and dancing as well as life.
One of these entertainers who Crosby mentors is the nice girl, Debbie Reynolds. But when (gosh) her father takes ill, it's up to Crosby to not only mentor her but become her godfather. But when she becomes a dancer at a club with a lecherous boss (Robert Wagner), Crosby knows he needs to inject a healthy dose of social gospel and begin his meddling. Can Crosby save the evil Wagner? Can he also save the alcoholic pianist (Ray Walston) who works for Wagner? Can he do all this without injecting numerous platitudes and using dialog that make your skin crawl? The answers are yes, yes and definitely NO!
In addition to this god-awful dialog, the film suffers greatly from way too many song and dance numbers, way too many forgettable songs and Robert Wagner singing. Now I don't think Wagner had a horrible voice (it's a lot better than mine), but considering he was supposed to have a GREAT voice and be a professional entertainer (the role originally was intended for Sinatra), he came up very, very short. As for Walston, he was a walking cliché and plot device...period. And, as for Crosby and Reynolds, they were 'nice'....and nothing more.
Imminently skipable unless you are a bad movie freak or you are using the film to torture detainees at Guantanimo!
As far as this film is concerned, I assume it did more to help the cause of worldwide atheism than any other--it was that terrible. It's the sort of film that Hollywood often did in the guise of an inspirational film but it was so jam-packed full of schmaltz and irrelevance that today you wonder why it was made in the first place. My guess is that its creation can be attributed to two things. First, the success of Bing Crosby in "Going My Way" and "The Bells of St. Mary's" had to get executives to consider a sequel...of sorts. But, after a decade plus, the magic just wasn't there. Second, the 1950s was a decade for religious spectacles and religion was, in a cynical way, quite bankable at the time--even if many of the films really had nothing to do with spirituality or God.
In this film Crosby plays, what else, a priest. However, this time it finds him serving in the entertainment district in New York--and many of his parishioners are show people. And, being so tragically hip himself, he, too, is a crooner and gave up a career in lights for a career hanging out with choirboys. But, to show that he can relate to his people, Bing often gives them lessons on singing and dancing as well as life.
One of these entertainers who Crosby mentors is the nice girl, Debbie Reynolds. But when (gosh) her father takes ill, it's up to Crosby to not only mentor her but become her godfather. But when she becomes a dancer at a club with a lecherous boss (Robert Wagner), Crosby knows he needs to inject a healthy dose of social gospel and begin his meddling. Can Crosby save the evil Wagner? Can he also save the alcoholic pianist (Ray Walston) who works for Wagner? Can he do all this without injecting numerous platitudes and using dialog that make your skin crawl? The answers are yes, yes and definitely NO!
In addition to this god-awful dialog, the film suffers greatly from way too many song and dance numbers, way too many forgettable songs and Robert Wagner singing. Now I don't think Wagner had a horrible voice (it's a lot better than mine), but considering he was supposed to have a GREAT voice and be a professional entertainer (the role originally was intended for Sinatra), he came up very, very short. As for Walston, he was a walking cliché and plot device...period. And, as for Crosby and Reynolds, they were 'nice'....and nothing more.
Imminently skipable unless you are a bad movie freak or you are using the film to torture detainees at Guantanimo!