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On the radio, Norman Corwin's "My Client Curley" was a delightful trip into whimsy that was well-nigh a perfect blend of lilting humor and that indefinable thing called heart. On the screen, "Once Upon A Time" is an agreeable dose of fantasy that has lost the deft Corwin touch in the hands of Hollywood scriptwriters and turns out good when it should have been tops.
The story centers around 9-year-old Stinky and his pet dancing caterpillar, Curley. Jerry Flynn, a washed-up producer, sees a gold mine in Curley and sets out to exploit him as the phenomenon of the century. Stinky, quito naturally, will not part with his pot, and Flynn spends three reels trying to make the worm a national figure without breaking the boy's heart. Newspaper headlines scream the daily intimacies of Curley's life. School children wear Curley sweaters. And everyone stops worrying about the war for a minute to sit back dreamily and think about the charming fairy tale of the dancing worm.
All of which was woven into a subtle effect on the airwaves, but has been thrown at you here in what comes dangerously close to dripping Hollywood sentimental corn.
But Ted Donaldson as Stinky, Cary Grant as Flynn, and Jimmy Gleason as the producer's right hand man, are all excellent. And it's different; it's Corwin.
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