the fortune cookie

The first comedic pairing of Jack Lemon and Walter Matthau got off to an auspicious start with 1966's The Fortune Cookie, a satirical riff on the double-dealing, penny pinching insurance industry and the ambulance-chasing attorneys who fight just as dirty to make a quick buck. Under the directorial guidance of Billy Wilder (Some Like It Hot), the actors bookend each other almost effortlessly, setting the stage for even more comfortable collaborations to come. But it's here, in a script overstuffed with quirky supporting characters, that Lemon and Matthau found their groove as mismatched brothers-in-law Harry Hinkle and Willie Gingrich.

A sideline cameraman for CBS, Harry (Lemon) gets walloped by "Boom Boom" Jackson, the Cleveland Browns' star punt returner, on a broken play. Although there's no real damage done, Willie (Matthau) quickly hatches a scheme to sue everyone involved, passing off an old back injury of Harry's - along with plenty of injections, hypnosis and coaching - to convince the doctors' of his case.

Harry initially refuses to go along with the plan, but allows himself to be convinced in the hope that his ex-wife (Judy West), an aspiring singer, will return out of sympathy. Meanwhile, "Boom Boom" himself (Ron Rich), is so guilt-ridden that he stays glued to Harry's side, putting his NFL career at risk to atone for his accidental sin. And Willie, with dreams of a huge payday, is busy plugging holes in every attempt by the insurance company to sink the case before it goes to trial, including outsmarting a professional detective with all the sneaky tools of the trade.

As Twilight Time contributor Julie Kirgo points out in the blu-ray liner notes, Lemon had already established himself as an entertainingly neurotic screen persona; and Harry Hinkle, minus a few wrinkles here there, is just more of the same. But when pitted against Matthau's lovable curmudgeon, there's a "peanut butter & chocolate" combination that's impossible to resist. And the pendulum swings Matthau's way even more often thanks to a script by I.A.L. Diamond that provides a priceless zinger, quip and comeback every other line.

The Fortune Cookie struggles through some singularly '60s moments, adding a sub-plot on race relations (Boom Boom's generosity comes awful close to indentured servitude), marital relations (Harry's wife would rather make a career than a meatloaf) that would've never made the cut in the more straightforward '50s. As amusing - and tragically timely - as the industry skewering satire can be, the film itself feels a bit bloated and lethargic whenever Matthau's not around to steal a dime or slap a fanny. So thank goodness there's plenty of both.

Twilight Time's 3000-copy limited edition offers up a solid hi-def transfer with special features limited to an isolated score track, theatrical trailer and the aforementioned liner notes.