But quite dated today. Otto Preminger made this movie without the certificate of approval that was needed then. It was enormously courageous and risky as he could have lost his investment and future.<br /><br />The film is not true to the wonderful book and is unfortunately hollywoodized.<br /><br />Frank Sinatra (and I've never been a fan) playing Frankie Machine, is astonishing in his performance. One forgets it is Frank up there, the level of realism he brings to the role of a jonesing drug addict has to be seen to be believed.<br /><br />Kim Novak, eternally gorgeous and talented, does not disappoint in the role of the devoted outsider, always there for Frankie.<br /><br />Supporting roles, particularly a young, handsome and talented Darrin Mc Gavin, are faultless.<br /><br />Eleanor Parker, playing Frankie's wife, is hopelessly inept. She swings from irritating to melodramatic and is far too over the top. A forgettable performance.<br /><br />The stagey, cheap settings are appalling, as if a firm gust of wind would blow the whole tacky painted cardboards over the horizon. Almost laughable at times in their tawdry cheapness.<br /><br />The music was irritating, poundingly so at times. As if each nuance of the script (example: when Louie is getting Frankie his fix out of a drawer) had to be underscored at a high decibel level.<br /><br />7 out of 10. Sinatra truly deserved his Oscar nomination. Worth seeing.