filmsgraded.com:
The Apartment (1960)
Grade: 59/100

Eager to please Jack Lemmon has found the key to career success. Problem is, it is the key to his apartment, and all the two-timing executives of Consolidated Life are using it for their undercover activities while poor Lemmon has to rough it on a park bench.

But the payoff for Lemmon is tangible. Soon, he may even be given access to the company washroom. Pity the anonymous desk toiler who believes that hard work and seniority paves the way to a promotion. It only keeps their position, at least until the next round of layoffs. Lemmon has a more direct route, so long as New York City has 8,042,783 people and not enough hotel rooms to go around.

But nothing is easy, and helping his bosses with their affairs has downsides other than intermittent homelessness. His neighbors and Mr. Matushka think he's a cad, his landlord threatens eviction, and then there's that twinge of guilt concerning Shirley MacLaine, the sweet-natured elevator operator.

Although I don't know why he should feel sorry for her. After all, not only is she young, pretty, and poised, but she has one of the world's easiest jobs. She asks the person what floor they want. They tell her, and she pushes a button. The elevator rises, the door opens, and she says, "Watch your step."

It would seem that the employees could simply push the buttons themselves, just like they could rent hotel rooms rather than shake down junior executives. It must also be said that Consolidated Life has the wildest Christmas party I've ever seen.

I've been to Christmas parties at many company offices, and they generally involve pep talk speeches from managers, pen and pencil sets awarded to employees, and no one performs a strip tease dance on a table. Big insurance companies are too conservative to host such a spectacular drunkfest, especially on their own property, whether it is 1960 or any other year.

What concerns me it isn't really the wild parties, the obsession with a humble apartment, the irrelevance of the elevator operator position, or the crass correlation between corporate brown-nosing and a promotion. No, it is the sudden character changes of Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine that confuses me.

Lemmon has no objection to his boss Fred MacMurray leaving his wife and resuming his affair with MacLaine. But can MacMurray use Lemmon's apartment? No way! Surely if he hasn't objected to the relationship itself, why does he draw the line at where it would be consummated? Enough to trade his plum position for unemployment? And would such a useless sacrifice really impress MacLaine enough that she would dump MacMurray just weeks shy of reeling him as a trophy husband?

While the story doesn't really hang together, one has to admire Lemmon's performance. He's an energetic actor who isn't content simply to prepare dinner in a kitchen. At the same time, he sings, jokes, and poses with a tennis racket. His active persona matches well with that of the ironic MacLaine, who until her uncharacteristic dash from MacMurray in the nightclub always does what others ask of her.

MacMurray gives a sly performance as the cad executive who uses lies to bed mistresses and uses power to intimidate subordinates. He never loses his composure, whatever the situation, although frustration will occasionally surface in his voice. He is the opposite of Lemmon, whose every petty setback furnishes fuel for angst. Give up your apartment for the evening, or don't give it up. But either way, there's no need to make such a show of it.


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