I sat down at my computer, intent on writing a brief review of 'The Out of Towners (1970).' I figured it would take about thirty minutes to complete the review, and so planned my night accordingly. At first everything went to plan, and I remained on schedule; then  with a dull droning sound, like that of a whimpering animal  my computer suddenly took it upon itself to shut down for no apparent reason. With a light curse, I leaned across and rebooted it, and this time we got as far as the Windows welcome screen. Then the lights flickered brightly, and I was suddenly plunged into darkness; the power was out. Reflecting that perhaps it was only a problem with my own fusebox, I stepped out and circled around to the back of the house, where I fumbled somewhat pathetically with a few of the electrical dials. Just as I was heading inside, the power clicked back on, something in the fusebox sparked, and, before long, my entire home was ablaze and nary a firetruck in sight.<br /><br />'The Out of Towners (1970)' might just be the most frustrating film I've ever seen. Whatever can go wrong will go wrong, and at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way. For a cocky businessman (Jack Lemmon) and his neglected wife (Sandy Dennis), a meticulously-planned trip to New York City is first disrupted by a seemingly-minor delay, which gradually blossoms into a fully-fledged urban disaster. With an important business interview scheduled for 9:00AM the following morning, George Kellerman must endure every difficulty known to Mankind, including the input of mousy wife, Gwen, with whom he is forced to form a shaky alliance. Flight delays, lost baggage, monsoon weather, muggings, kidnappings, city-wide transit strikes, vicious dogs, gas explosions  nothing is neglected, and George shouts himself hoarse throughout the proceedings, declaring his intentions to sue everybody whom he perceives as having contributed to his awful string of bad luck. Even God has seemingly neglected the pair, who are unceremoniously dismissed from a church by an unapologetic news camera crew.<br /><br />Lemmon and Dennis are very entertaining in the main roles, and the various supporting performances complement the story perfectly. It's interesting to note how the husband-and-wife relationship shifts constantly as they are confronted by each new setback: at first, George is rather dismissive of his wife, using her primarily to "verify" facts to be later used in the courtroom. Though she subsequently commits some rather foolish acts, such as handing over George's $200 watch to a strange caped man, the couple do eventually acquire a mutual respect towards each other. Neil Simon's story might also be interpreted as a critique of modern society, in which citizens in the bustling metropolises are unwilling to offer help to those in need of their assistance. Burdened by his own hefty share of difficulties, George is quickly consumed by the selfishness of the city and comes to care only for his own wellbeing. Gwen, however, retains her sense of moral rectitude and pauses to care for a lost boy in Central Park. Remind me never to go to New York.