Sam Levene — What a Character!

This post is for the 2013 edition of the What a Character! Blogathon, co-hosted by Aurora of Once Upon a Screen; Kellee of Outspoken & Freckled; and Paula of Paula's Cinema Club; enjoy!

I became a Sam Levene fan backwards.  You see, the first film in which I saw Sam onscreen (if I may so address him without seeming too bold) was in one of his last movies, Jonathan Demme’s 1979 Hitchcockian thriller Last Embrace  For me, Sam Levene stole the show as Sam Urdell, the crotchety but likable head of a secret Jewish society who helps troubled secret agent hero Roy Scheider before he becomes the next victim!.  Here’s my one of my favorite lines:

“This was the prime whorehouse of the East Side. A moment of reverence, please: fifty years ago, this was the very place I lost my cherry.”

Lawman Sam as New York's Finest, Lt. Mike Brent,
in The Mad Miss Manton (1938)

Stranger on a train? Nope, it's good-guy Sam Levene in Last Embrace (1979)

Our man Sam was born in Russia on August 28, 1905, and his family settled in New York City. The world of fashion led Sam to the Broadway stage and screen stardom. In 1925, Sam was working as a dress cutter for his brother Joe, who wanted to be a salesman. Joe agreed on one condition:  Sam had to improve his “poise.” Sam agreed, and auditioned for the legendary Charles Jehlinger at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts.  Sam got the scholarship, and he was on his way!

Sam in slow-burn mode as Lt. Abrams in After the Thin Man (1936)

Sam made his Broadway debut in 1927 with five lines in the play Wall Street.  From there, Sam carved out a long, great career spanning 50 years on Broadway, film, and TV. He came to Hollywood in 1936 to reprise his stage role as a gambler in the comedy Three Men on a Horse, alongside other beloved Team Bartilucci character actors Frank McHugh, Allen Jenkins, and Joan Blondell. 

Sam’s next couple of roles brought him to the right side of the law in After the Thin Man (1936), with William Powell and Myrna Loy as those lovable married sleuths Nick and Nora Charles.  Sam supported the stars as Lt. Abrams of San Francisco’s Finest, slow-burning his way to helping Nick and Nora solve a murder involving Nora’s wrongly-accused cousin Selma Landis (Elissa Landi) from ending up in the hot seat!  Sam’s Lt. Abrams also returned for Another Thin Man (1939) and Shadow of the Thin Man (1941). Sam continued his funny-side-up trend as the comical henchman Creeper in Whistling in Brooklyn (1943) from the Whistling in the Dark comedy-thrillers with Red Skelton, including co-star Anthony Caruso, who would later co-star in John Huston’s 1950 film noir The Asphalt Jungle and The Godfather, among others.

One of Sam's most poignant performances: the ill-fated Samuels
in the searing drama Crossfire (1947)

In 1950, Sam created the role of Nathan Detroit in the original Broadway production of Guys and Dolls.  Granted, to paraphrase Danny Kaye in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947), Sam was working under a slight disadvantage:  he had no singing talent!  Nevertheless, Sam’s solo number, “Sue Me,”  which had been deliberately written in only one octave for Sam’s benefit, turned out to be one of the show's big hits!  When he had to sing in an ensemble number, such as “The Oldest Established,” he mimed the words.  Of course, when the 1955 film version was cast, movie stars took over: Frank Sinatra as Nathan Detroit, and Marlon Brando as Sky Masterson.  Many critics noted that Sinatra wouldn’t use the character's ethnic New York accent when he sang.  Moreover, many felt Sam should have been allowed to reprise his “Jewish Wry” approach to the role, openly wishing that Levene were cast as Nathan Detroit instead (me too!)  

Guys and Dolls and Let It Ride were among
Sam's many  Broadway triumphs!

But on the bright side, Sam got plenty of accolades of his own, including a Tony Award nomination in 1961 for Best Actor in a Play for The Devil's Advocate, as well as starring in the original Broadway production of Neil Simon's The Sunshine Boys, playing Al Lewis to Jack Albertson's Willie Clark. However, the role in the 1975 movie version of The Sunshine Boys was originally was earmarked for Jack Benny, who was replaced by his friend George Burns after Benny’s death. Burns won an Oscar playing the role—“another big one that got away from Levene,” notes the IMDb’s Jon C.Hopwood.

Sam was no stranger to film noir, and he once again showed his talent in Robert Siodmak’s Hemingway-inspired The Killers (1946) as retired police officer Lt. Sam Lubinsky, and the following year, Jules Dassin’s searing prison break thriller Brute Force (1947); and Sweet Smell of Success (1957).  But of all of Sam’s memorable performances, I was especially moved by Sam’s performance as Samuels, the tragic, hapless victim of Robert Ryan’s murderous bigotry.  Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the worst possible person!  Poor Samuels; oh, how I longed to be able to smash Robert Ryan’s Montgomery over the head with the nearest chair!

Fun Facts:  In 1950, Sam starred in the film With These Hands (1950)  about the International Ladies' Garment Workers Union. At the opening of the film, David Dubinsky, the President of the ILGWU, told him "I know you," and Sam said, "Yes, I'm in the film with Arlene Francis." Dubinsky replied, "No, you were a cutter, just like me."

Smoke 'em if you got 'em!  Red Skelton matches wits  with Sam
as henchman Creeper in Whistling in Brooklyn (1943)!

In David Denby’s New York Magazine review of Woody Allen’s Everyone Says I Love You (1996), he mentioned Sam Levene playing Nathan Detroit in the original Guys & Dolls. Denby stated: “Levene couldn’t sing a note, but his gruff, toneless outbursts could break your heart.” Levene was not cautious, and that made all the difference.”
Sam died of a heart attack on December 28, 1980. He was 75 years old, but his body of work will always be remembered, having made 49 films total during his Hollywood career. His last film role was in the courtroom drama ...And Justice for All (1979)  He’ll never be forgotten.  Sam Levene—what a character indeed!