An enjoyable piece of whimsy in which hypochondriacal David Wayne, who believes he will die any moment, is granted immortality by the devil, who appears in the form of the jovial Thomas Gomez. Wayne will live for thousands of years, guaranteed, unless he chooses to exercise the escape clause in the contract, in which case he dies painlessly and at once.
Wayne, who has confined himself to his bed, and who has done nothing but insult his wife, Virginia Christine (Mrs. Olson, the Folger coffee lady) and the doctors, is a new man. He presses his palms against the radiator. Nothing! So far, so great. He throws himself under a subway train and sues the company for a lot of money. The same with the bus company. But he's getting bored. Life is losing its zest. Even drinking a bottle of iodine doesn't help. It tastes like weak lemonade. He's about to throw himself off the roof when his wife, in a desperate attempt to stop him, falls to her death. Wayne decides to try out the electric chair and see if he can extract a volt of excitement from the experience. He gets "life without parole" instead and can only look forward to thousands of years behind bars. "Boredom is the root of all evil," as Kierkegaard observed. Wayne exercises the escape clause.
We usually think of David Wayne, if we think of him at all, as an ensemble player (the effete reporter in Billy Wilder's "Front Page") or as a second lead (Frank Sinatra's pal in "The Tender Trap"). But, given a chance, he's pretty good on his own, as he is here -- fussy, arrogant, sly. Likable and ironic story with some clever lines and good acting.
Wayne, who has confined himself to his bed, and who has done nothing but insult his wife, Virginia Christine (Mrs. Olson, the Folger coffee lady) and the doctors, is a new man. He presses his palms against the radiator. Nothing! So far, so great. He throws himself under a subway train and sues the company for a lot of money. The same with the bus company. But he's getting bored. Life is losing its zest. Even drinking a bottle of iodine doesn't help. It tastes like weak lemonade. He's about to throw himself off the roof when his wife, in a desperate attempt to stop him, falls to her death. Wayne decides to try out the electric chair and see if he can extract a volt of excitement from the experience. He gets "life without parole" instead and can only look forward to thousands of years behind bars. "Boredom is the root of all evil," as Kierkegaard observed. Wayne exercises the escape clause.
We usually think of David Wayne, if we think of him at all, as an ensemble player (the effete reporter in Billy Wilder's "Front Page") or as a second lead (Frank Sinatra's pal in "The Tender Trap"). But, given a chance, he's pretty good on his own, as he is here -- fussy, arrogant, sly. Likable and ironic story with some clever lines and good acting.