A Man Called Adam (1966)

Director: Leo Penn
Writers: Les Pine and Tina Rome
Stars: Sammy Davis Jr., Louis Armstrong, Ossie Davis, Cicely Tyson, Frank Sinatra Jr., Mel Tormé and Peter Lawford

Index: 2025 Centennials.

The poster appropriately points out that “in Adam’s world... the music never stops!” That’s pretty true because music is everywhere here. Even when Adam Johnson isn’t performing on stage, there’s music in the background: on the radio, on the jukebox, even on his reel-to-reel tape deck. Manny, his powerful agent, points out his problem: “Take that horn away, buddy, and what have you got? Nothing.”

It’s also our problem, because, while Sammy Davis Jr. is blisteringly good as Adam, he’s the sort of disaster of a human being that we can’t find much sympathy for, even if he truly went off the rails a decade ago in the aftermath of a tragic accident that took his wife and baby.

Instead, we’re asked to sympathise with the people who are closest to him. Nelson, his best friend from childhood, played by Ossie Davis, cites “that excitement, that quality of personal danger” as why Adam’s a genius and also why he can’t stop being there for him, regardless of what he’s done in the past.

Most of our focus, when it’s not on Adam, is on his latest girlfriend, Claudia Ferguson, the impeccable Cicely Tyson, who goes in with her eyes wide open, explaining that, “I know what I am. I know what I’ve got to give. You don’t.”

Both, like so many in his life, are drawn to save him, but he doesn’t want to be saved. We know, just as Nelson and Claudia do, that he’ll let them down over and over. We certainly see and appreciate his genius but may not want to hang around to see the human being behind it.

What we have to ask ourselves is whether the music Adam gives us and the performance Davis gives to give him life is enough for us to also watch him hurt himself and the people who love him the most. Like so many kitchen sink dramas from the fifties, it was enough for me once. I’m happy I watched it, especially to celebrate Sammy Davis, Jr.’s centennial, but I doubt I’ll put myself through it again.

The filmmakers likely want us to watch this for its tough story, a character study of a man self destructing from guilt, alcoholism and an inability to compromise, but also a strong look at American racism at a time when jazz bands and audiences were integrated. Oh, and for its brave and powerful lead performance.

I found that I was watching for a whole slew of performances, Davis for sure, but Tyson, the other Davis and Johnny Brown too. There are also a string of talented jazz musicians. Louis Armstrong is the best actor among them and Frank Sinatra Jr., Young Blue Eyes, the worst, but Mel Tormé is in there too and Kai Winding and a host of folk I don’t recognise but played honest roles not just on stage but off it.

In fact, the cast is so deep that it features an array of nobodies who became somebodies. As the film begins, Adam’s girlfriend Theo is Lola Falana in her first film role. Later, at a party, a black man talking with two white girls behind a peach of a line (“Aren’t you dead yet, baby?” a snarky girl asks Adam, who replies, “No, but you are.”) is Morgan Freeman, uncredited and without lines but very noticeable nonetheless (see below).

I also enjoyed the music. I’m a big movie fan and a big music fan but I rarely appreciate the music in movies. This is a welcome exception. Davis performs a number of pieces of music on stage with jazz groups, leading his own quintet or jamming with others. Louis Armstrong gets a hilarious number and Mel Tormé delivers an excellent rendition of All That Jazz.

Davis believably looks like he’s playing and probably was to a degree, trumpet being one of his many talents. However, his solos were dubbed by Nat Adderly, brother of Cannonball. Louis Armstrong, of course, is the real thing, as are most of the musicians. Pianist Blind Les, however, is Johnny Brown, best known for his comedy on Laugh-In and as Mr. Bookman, the building superintendent on Good Times.

Discounting the music, I wasn’t as enthused by the technical side. It’s shot predominantly in close up, which works and was probably the right choice, but I wanted to see a lot more of the environment these characters were in. I’m not a fan of the often back and forth editing, though again maybe it illustrates how jagged a character it represents.

All that said, Davis is very good indeed here in a serious role unlike any I’ve seen him play. He breaks a bottle in Manny’s office and makes him kneel in fear for his life, but he also crawls in return after he’s been blacklisted, in public too, at a restaurant, blubbering pitifully to the man. He lashes out often when threatened but also stands there frozen when a friend is taken down in an alley by racist thugs. He sells it all.

Then again, he’d been performing since he was four years old, touring with his father on the vaudeville circuit. He was elected POTUS in his first film, Rufus Jones for President, when he was seven. He’s utterly recognisable, even before singing and dancing. He knew showbiz.

He also knew racism, though not until 1944 when he draughted into the U.S. Army, where his nose was flattened by almost daily fights. Later, when he was a Vegas headliner, he was unable to stay at the hotels at which he played due to segregation and his TV specials were on Canadian television due to the colour barrier.

However, in 1964, he became the first black performer at the Copacabana in New York and later refused to play anywhere segregated. It’s notable that this movie consistently has multi-racial bands playing to multi-racial audiences. He also married both black and white women.

While continuing with vaudeville, he began to record in 1949, initially under pseudonyms. By the time his debut album came out in 1955, he’d lost an eye in a car accident and the cover showed him with an eye patch. Later, he had a glass eye fitted, which he wore until his death.

His star rose throughout the fifties in every medium. He sang the theme for the movie Six Bridges to Cross, led Mr. Wonderful on Broadway and joined the Sinatra incarnation of the Rat Pack. That led from Vegas residences to films Ocean’s 11, Sergeants 3 and Robin and the 7 Hoods.

A Man Called Adam was his next film as a lead actor but most of his roles were in support, in Sweet Charity, The Cannonball Run and Tap and a long string of guest appearances.

He topped the chart in 1972 with The Candy Man and won a Primetime Emmy for his 60th Anniversary Celebration. He was a fast draw who competed, an avid photographer and a Jewish convert who befriended Anton LaVey. He died in 1990 of throat cancer.