The Last Hurrah

The Last Hurrah is the story of Frank Skeffington (Spencer Tracy), who has long been mayor of a large city in New England. At the age of 72 Skeffington decides to run once again for the office of Mayor; he announces his intention of seeking re-election one last time. An Irishman who has risen from poverty to forty years of political domination, Frank Skeffington gives himself tirelessly to public affairs and to his supporters — the Irish and other immigrants of this big American city. He is full of easy, irresistible charm, wit, and warmth, but also diabolical malice.

Though loved by many citizens, especially the poor, he has some bitter enemies who see the glib, warm hearted, smooth-tongued, ruthless Frank as no less than a disciple of the devil. These enemies include the gaunt, snobbish banker, played by Basil Rathbone, who refuses to lend money for slum-clearance—whereupon Frank coolly blackmails him into changing his mind.

The enemies also include the lean, mean, ex-Ku-Klux-Klan newspaper publisher (John Carradine) and a host of snobs and rich old families. In an effort to destroy Skeffington, they put up, as their own candidate, a young war veteran, a likeable but brainless young man who is merely their puppet. Skeffington describes his young opponent as a "six-foot hunk of putty."

In his election campaign, Frank uses every trick in his trade, ranging from baby kissing and handing out of cigars at a funeral, to cool threats, bribery and bare-faced blackmail. He runs his campaign with a host of colorful characters: spongers, grafters and parasites; devoted "yes-men," professional mourners, sentimental wise-guys, right down to the destitute widow on whom he quietly presses an envelope of money, blatantly telling her that the money is a gift from his late wife.

Skeffington invites his nephew Adam (Jeffrey Hunter) to accompany him to campaign events in order to observe how an old-fashioned campaign works. Because Adam is an outsider to the world of politics, he asks questions that regular folks (like those in the audience) would ask. Having Frank or a member of his team answer Adam's questions is a clever way of explaining political tactics to the audience.

The film catches the spirit of the election campaign — the blarney, the promises, the trickery. The tension of the night of decision when the returns are coming in is most realistically shown. It's a piece of political nostalgia that's entertaining regardless of party affiliation.

Although Frank Skeffington was a fictional character and the big city was never actually named, it was common knowledge that the city was Boston and that the character of Frank Skeffington was based—perhaps not so loosely—on James Michael Curley, the legendary Irish-American politician who served four terms as the mayor of Boston, four in Congress, and one as governor. He also spent five months in prison, following a conviction for mail fraud.

In his book Playing with Fire, Lawrence O'Donnell describes the Irish American political machine in which Curley wielded power. "In Boston the motto was put to song with a rhyme for mayor James Michael Curley: "Vote early and often for Curley!" It meant that the ends justify the means. If a little chicanery had to be tolerated to give the Irish workingman a better chance, then so be it. The big-city Irish mayors were expected to take care of their friends—their close friends as well as everyone who voted for them."

Edwin O'Connor, author of The Last Hurrah, denied repeatedly that the character of Frank Skeffington was based on James Curley. Nevertheless, Curley threatened to sue the author for libel. Shortly before the release of the film, however, the former Governor of Massachusetts petitioned in Superior Court to ban the showing of the film. Curley charged that the principal character was based on Curley's own life and brought him into disrepute. It's ironic that Governor Curley, who had a reputation for corruption, would feel anything but flattered to be compared to the character of Frank Skeffington (a lovable rogue). Nevertheless, Curley charged that the film is in effect a purported biography of himself and that its showing would be an unwarranted invasion of his privacy. He also claimed that some of the scenes were defamatory, causing him humiliation and mental suffering. Curley also claimed that neither O'Connor nor Columbia Pictures had received his consent to film The Last Hurrah.

The case was transferred to the U.S. District Court, where a representative from Columbia Pictures claimed that the studio had paid Curley $25,000 to release Columbia Pictures from any legal liability in connection with its production of the motion picture, The Last Hurrah. The studio's attorney presented a document bearing the signature "James Michael Curley" and also the canceled check for $25,000. Curley denied signing any release, and declared that the signature was a forgery.

It appears that Columbia Pictures may have been the victim of fraud in obtaining the release. The signature on the document did not match Governor Curley's signature, the person who presented himself to Columbia Pictures as Mr. Curley's agent could not be found, and the person who "notarized" the release did not exist. (Details reported in Motion Picture Daily, August 21, 28; September 8, 10, 12, 16, 1958)

Reports in the local papers state that Columbia settled the suit for $15,000, which was paid to Curley. James Curley died on November 13, 1958.

The Last Hurrah

Edwin O'Connor's rousing and hilarious tale of a rogue who served New England as governor and mayor is now brought to the screen by producer-director John Ford. The novel has been well served as to detail—all of its people are here either aiding or opposing Frank Skeffington (Spencer Tracy) in his last campaign. But the scope of the film is merely moderate when it should be vigorous, sporadically alive when it should pulse with vitality. Ford's telescoping of the election itself loses much of its punch, and the majority of the characters are in and out too fast. Still there are some excellent scenes, many of the book's gems of wit and, as hangers-on of varying stripe, Edward Brophy, O.Z. Whitehead and Arthur Walsh are perfection. As it is, "Last Hurrah" is a good film; it could have been a better one.

— Photoplay, January 1959

The Last Hurrah was released in Boston on October 22, 1958; in New York on October 23; in Los Angeles on October 29; and general release in the USA November 1958. Despite a strong showing in New York and Boston in the first few weeks, the film ended up losing nearly two million dollars.

Although it is considered to have been a box office failure, The Last Hurrah was named one of the ten best pictures of 1958 by the Committee on Exceptional Films of the National Board of Review of Motion Pictures. John Ford was named best director for the year for the Last Hurrah, and Spencer Tracy was chosen best actor of the year for his performances in The Old Man and the Sea and The Last Hurrah.

"The Last Hurrah"

A very good mass entertainment. It is obvious that the fictional story, which centers around the activities of a flamboyant mayor and political boss of an unnamed Irish-American eastern city, has been based on the career of James Curley, the former Mayor of Boston. What emerges on the screen, however, is a vastly entertaining study of a resourceful old-time politician, wonderfully portrayed by Spencer Tracy, who makes the character warmly human, sympathetic, witty and charming even though he is not above resorting to trickery and malice to combat political enemies. Finely produced and directed by John Ford, the picture is loaded with situations that are exciting, dramatic and comical. One such sequence is where Tracy attends the wake of a disliked man and crowds the place with his political cronies to lead the widow to believe that her husband had many friends. And the method he employs to compel the profiteering undertaker to go easy on the charges is a high spot of the comedy. A strong dramatic sequence is the gloom that descends on Tracy's election headquarters the night he is unexpectedly beaten by a reform candidate. Powerfully dramatic also are the closing scenes, where Tracy jokes with his heart-broken friends as he lies on his deathbed. Adding much to the entertainment values are the colorful characterizations of Pat O'Brien, James Gleason, Edward Brophy and Ricardo Cortez, as Tracy's devoted henchmen, as well as of Basil Rathbone, John Carradine and Donald Crisp, as leaders of the opposition group. Frank McHugh, Wallace Ford, Jane Darwell and Frank Albertson are among the other old-time players in the cast who contribute effective characterizations. The photography is excellent.

A brief synopsis cannot do justice to the eventful story, which has the aging Tracy, long-time mayor of his city announcing his intention to seek re-election, despite the opposition of the city's "respectable" element. He invites Jeffrey Hunter, his newspaperman nephew, to be his companion during the campaign, first, because his own son (Arthur Walsh) was an irresponsible playboy, and secondly, because he wanted Hunter to observe the last gasps of a dying institution—the old time political campaign. Hunter accepts the offer, even though John Carradine, his testy publisher, strongly opposed Tracy, and even though he was married to Dianne Foster, whose father (Willis Bouchey) despised Tracy. Basil Rathbone, a powerful banker who led the opposition, tries to hurt Tracy's chances of reelection by refusing to lend money to the city for a much-needed housing project. to combat this move, Tracy tricks O. Z. Whitehead, Rathbone's dim-witted son, to accept a post as his fire commissioner and then photographs him in a silly, heroic pose. Tracy's threat to publish the photograph quickly compels Rathbone to grant the loan. In the event that follow, Tracy resorts to different political shenanigans to further his campaign and on election day he and his followers are confident of an overwhelming victory. They are shocked beyond belief when Tracy's opponent wins by a landslide. Tracy takes the defeat with good grace outwardly, but he broods over his loss and, upon reaching his home, is stricken with a heart attack. Aware that he was on his deathbed, Tracy, despite his doctor's orders, insists upon one last meeting with his devoted cronies and says goodbye to each with a wisecrack on his lips. Just before he draws his last breath, he informs the fatuous Bouchey that he would act no different than he had always acted if he had his life to live all over again.

It was produced and directed by John Ford from a screenplay by Frank Nugent, based upon the novel by Edwin O'Connor.

Family.

— Harrison's Reports, October 18, 1958

The July 20, 1956 issue of Motion Picture Daily reported that the film The Last Hurrah would star James Cagney and Jack Lemmon! But that was 1956. By the time filming began in February 1958 Spencer Tracy was cast as the lead player. Jack Lemmon would have been the right age to play Skeffington's nephew Adam, the role that went to Jeffrey Hunter. Jeffrey Hunter later played Jesus in King of Kings and Captain Pike in the original Star Trek episode "The Cage."

James Gleason, who played Cuke Gillen in The Last Hurrah, died in April 1959. He was 72, and had been in ill health for the last year of his life. The cause of death was understood to be chronic asthma. The Last Hurrah was Gleason's final film.

In The Last Hurrah Basil Rathbone worked with Spencer Tracy and Director John Ford for the first and only time.

"Basil Rathbone is perfect as Norman Cass, the WASP banker. He has a one-of-a-kind scowl." —Tony Macklin, Review of the Last Hurrah

The Last Hurrah

"The Last Hurrah" is the "this ain't Jim Curley" story, from Edwin O'Connor's novel, which John Ford and Spencer Tracy have transmuted to the screen in slick style destined for good grosses. The star has made the most of the meaty role of the shrewd politician of the "dominantly Irish-American" metropolis in New England (unmistakably Boston but not Boston) and producer-director Ford has likewise contributed a top professional job.

The two-hour running length is somewhat overboard but Tracy's characterization of the resourceful, old-line politician-mayor has such consummate depth that it sustains the interest practically all the way. A little editing might have helped but the canvas is rich and the political machinations replete.

The graft and coercion is made to appear chiefly as an obbligato to Tracy's do-gooding for the poor wards, and if the wardheelers (dominantly Irish although Ricardo Cortez as Sam Weinberg accounts for another segment of the votes) are crude in their delivery of the ballots, Tracy's quasi-benevolence and impatience with the too proper Bostonians, in their Plymouth Club retreats, more than vitiate the brasher aspects.

Tracy's resourcefulness in besting the stuffy bankers who nixed a loan for a much needed low-rent housing development; his foiling of the profiteering undertaker when a constituent is buried (the wake is transformed into a political rally); the passionate loyalty of his political devotees; the rivalry between the "respectable" elements in combating the direct-approach tactics of the Irish-American politicos; the pride in defeat when the "reform" candidate bests Tracy at the polls; his verve even on his deathbed, as he sends for his old cronies; the opposition men-of-the-cloth supporting the rival political candidates for the mayoralty; and Tracy's own "last hurrah" as he tells off the fatuous banker (Willis Bourchey)—with a parting "like hell I would!"—in reviewing his gaudy career, make for a series of memorable scenes.

Ford's chore wasn't easy; he has too much plot material to dovetail and correlate but the end-result is thoroughly acceptable.

The cast is a roster of stalwarts in the main. Jeffrey Hunter is first-billed, in the support. He is the shrewd mayor's favored nephew who, despite his ties to the opposition sheet, perceives the old codger's humaneness. He is a sympathetic and attractive juvenile who, however, doesn't always match up histrionically against the other prime supporting players, all old pros. These include Pat O'Brien, James Gleason, Edward Brophy and Ricardo Cortez as Tracy's faithfuls; or Basil Rathbone, John Carradine, Carleton Young as the bankers; and others like Basil Ruysdael, Donald Crisp (both as clerics), Frank Albertson, Wallace Ford, Frank McHugh and others.

This is not a "woman's picture" and the femme interest is incidental. There are a couple of missouts also as regards Tracy's playboy-son and the scenes with the babes, and that goes also for the scene of the new candidate and his wife fluffing their way through an "at-home interview" scene for benefit of the tv cameras. But it holds the interest and, coming in a political year, has a neo-topical value.

The technical credits are top-notch; Charles Lawton Jr.'s low-key black and white lensing is well-attuned to the theme. But primarily it's Tracy's picture. Amidst a bunch of old pros he is head-and-shoulders above them in his thespic assignment. He makes his solo marquee stardom mean something beyond the billing.

Abel.

— Variety, October 15, 1958

"Edwin O'Connor's best-selling novel of a few years ago is brought to vivid life on screen, with big-wig politician Skeffington played magnificently by Spencer Tracy. Long-time Mayor of an Irish-American city, the aging Skeffington seeks re-election, is aided in his campaign by his nephew (Jeffrey Hunter). He loses, to the despair of his loyal ward bosses and constituents, but remains the triumphant strong-man to the end." —TV Radio Mirror, January 1959

See Page Two for more reviews and photos. See Page Three for pictures of posters, lobby cards and promo photos.

Images on this page and pages 2 and 3 are from the film "The Last Hurrah," copyright Columbia Pictures.

The Last Hurrah (1958), 121 min. b&w

The Last Hurrah
(1958), 121 min. b&w