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The Man with the Golden Arm was one of the first films to have as its main topic (and, in some respects, the message) the tragedy of heroin addiction. It's nowhere near a great film, but its importance lies in Otto Preminger's dedication to making it feel real and on the edge of melodrama and naturalism. What I liked is that it's not so much an expose of junkies (if you want the best expose of that read Naked Lunch, if you can get through it anyway, besides the point), but the nature of the urban environment Frankie Machine lives. He expects after he gets out of prison for dealing to go on the straight and narrow, to become a drummer in a band and make it legit as a musician. But he has his "crippled" wife Zosch, who can't work and needs money and often complains, and then there's the old neighborhood- he can't escape seeing Louie (Darren McGavin), who is still doing back-room card games and, yes, pushing dope. Like Mean Streets, it's hard to escape the minutia unless you leave.
But then again, it's hard for Frankie Machine not to try and operate naturally in this urban quarter. It's just that he can't escape the temptation of junk (when he's booked on a phony theft charge with his friend, he sees a junkie freaking out, and it puts back the fear of going back on into his clean self). And personifying Frankie is Sinatra, and I can't see anyone else who could've played him, even original choice Brando. He fits into the neighborhood, and seems like the kind of guy who should be a step ahead of the game. But there's also a vulnerability to Sinatra that he pulls out wonderfully, and by the time we see him going 'cold turkey' in Molly's apartment, it's believable even if it's not the kind of thing those from 'my' generation would think of heroin (i.e. Trainspotting and certainly Requiem for a Dream). If for nothing else, you want to watch the movie to see what happens to Sinatra as this character.
The flaws, however, come in some of the other performances, though it's a little tricky. Eleanor Parker seems to be overacting for a good portion of the movie, fooling Frankie that she's really crippled when in reality she can walk and is fooling him for one reason or another. But then it becomes clearer as it goes along- she's supposed to be nuts, and nuts with jealousy, and on that level it starts to get better. Meanwhile, Kim Novak is good, though not Vertigo-worthy, as the possible girl in the side but more like the voice of reason in the story. Then there's a Detective Bendar, who might be one of the most one-note characters/performances, ever. And also Sparrow, Frankie's nerdy friend, and the characters of Louie and Schiefka, and they're all played as one might expect them to (actually, McGavin is better than OK). As far as casting other talent around Sinatra, Preminger doesn't do all that great. And, frankly, some scenes kind of fall flat.
But there's a lot of fascination in the Man with the Golden Arm, and not just as some dated piece of sociological interest. It works as compelling drama, and as a message piece conveyed without being preachy or campy. It's a genuine article, just not exceptional.


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