Newsday (Suffolk Edition) from Melville, New York • 142

is a SON MOVIES By Joseph Gelmis The exact moment in "Oliver!" at which I realized just how good a movie musical it was going to be was at the end of a long, long shot of Fagin watching his new pickpocket recruit, Oliver Twist, undress for bed. As the camera held the shot long past any functional purpose it served in the action, one began to grow unteasy with the suspicion that perhaps Fagin was a lecherous old man. Suddenly, like a revelation, the passive, thoughtful expression imperceptibly seemed to be the tender look of a man tucking his child into bed for the night. And the tone of the film was set in a poignant flash: Fagin was a father figure to this troop of little lost beggars. Ron Moody's Fagin is superlative, a figure of irresistible charm, a masterpiece of comic villainy.

He is marvelous clown who can sing and dance so well that his sensitive acting is like a bonus. Every comic gesture and leer and wink and burlesque dance step just makes his poignant moments so much more astonishing. 21 suspect that the reason I liked "Oliver!" as much as I did was tribute to Moody. Yet there is about the entire production a similar professionalism, a guiding intelligence and taste that must undoubtedly be traced finally to director Carol Reed. Every detail of characterization, choreography and set design fits together so expertly that from a technical point of view it is the best movie, musical in years.

Beyond that. "Oliver!" a vibrant, captivating family entertainment. It is one of those films that is made to endure. The film's single weakness is the murderous Bill Sykes, who is played sullenly by Oliver Reed, instead of terrifyingly. But it is a small enough flaw in a film so filled with exciting SPY STORY.

Renata Vaselle, as Mata Hari, prewhich opened last night at the Theatre de Lys. pares to dance in "Ballad for a Firing Squad," Hurst co-stars. Rich in Fun and Ron Moody, Left, and Jack Wild in choreography and brilliant performances. As the Artful Dodger, 15- year-old Jack Wild is like a midget W. C.

Fields, is reverent and roguish as he tips his top hat before picking a pocket or stealing an apple or pastry. Mark Lester, as Oliver, is a 9-yearold with the cherubic face of a Billy Budd. He doesn't have that precocity of the boy whose mother is urging him on from the wings and making him neurotically self-conscious and ambitious. of course, is Lionel Bart's musical adaptation of the Dickens novel. By making Fagin a lonely old man who wrestles indeci- Poignancy judge and nearly killed by the ruthless Sykes.

During all his tribulations, Oliver maintains the innocence which brings out humane protective instincts in Fagin and in Sykes' girl friend Nancy (Shani Wallis). Though one may not come away humming the songs, one is totally enthralled by the film while watching it. "Oliver!" opened a reserved-seat run yesterday at Loew's State Theater in Manhattan. Opening yesterday at local theaters: 'Bliss of Mrs. Blossom' "The Bliss of Mrs.

Blossom" is a frantic sex farce based on a single joke. Shirley MacLaine leads two lives precariously. She has a dull husband (Richard Attenborough) with whom she spends her nights. In the daytime, she entertains A lover (James Booth) and acts out old movie fantasies. The lover was a repairman who came to fix her sewing machine.

He never left. She put him in the attic and kept him there for years. I'm not a fan of Miss MacLaine, but there are enough laughs in the near-encounters of husband and lover in the house and funny moments in the campy fantasy to recommend the film to those who like her. sively with his greed and his compassion, a sort of way-station foster father along the route that leads to the rich uncle and the happily-everafter ending. "Oliver!" becomes a tough yet sentimental odyssey of a child in search of love.

The film retains enough social criticism to give it a sting. It carefully recreates the callous, early-19th Century milieu in which Oliver is an underfed orphan in a workhouse who is sold to an undertaker and later escapes to London, where he is welcomed by the wily Artful Dodger and his mentor, Fagin. Before justice triumphs, he is bullied by a besotted "The High Commissioner' Although it is a predictably routine spy thriller, "The High Commissioner" benefits from slick technical work and good performances by Rod Taylor and Lilli Palmer. Taylor is an Australian detective sent to London to arrange extradition of his country's high commissioner (Christopher Plummer) on a charge of suspicion of murder. The mission gets sidetracked by an assassination plot.

ON STAGE Firing Squad' a Dud By George Oppenheimer A word about the history of "Ballad for A Firing Squad," which opened last night at the Theater de Lys. Just about a year ago David Merrick produced a musical, entitled "Mata Hari," with a book by Jerome Coopersmith, music by Edward Thomas and lyrics by Martin Charin. While it was still trying out in Washington, D.C., the canny Mr. Merrick decided that it was not right for New York, a decision he had made once before during the previews of "Breakfast at Tiffany's," and closed the show (largely out of his deep devotion to the critics) at a loss that was rumored to be over $600.000. On the other hand, Messrs.

Coopersmith, Thomas and Charnin are evidently diehards, for now Mr. Thomas has produced and Mr. Charnin has directed a revised and retitled version of "Mata Hari." Not to keep you in suspense, if what I saw last night is an improvement over the original, Mr. Merrick should not only have closed but padlocked it. The new version is perilously near to one of those old, old operettas that made up for the malady of their librettos with the melody of their scores.

It will only take a moment to list its virtues. There are occasionally tuneful songs. Renata Vaselle as Mata Hari, a femme fatale in moderation, does her famous dance with a high degree of efficiency. James Hurst, as the officer she loves, has a good voice. Bruce Scott, as the young soldier who has nothing to do with the plot, is the most professional and fortunate member of the cast.

And Adelle Rasey as the officer's wife is comely and sings her two or three songs well. BALLAD FOR A FIRING SQUAD. Musical composed, directed and produced by Ed Thomas and Martin Charnin; choreography by Alan Johnson; sets by Jim Tilton; costumes by Theoni Aldridge. At the Theatre de Lys with Renata Vaselle, James Hurst, Bruce Scott, Adele Rasey, Stanley Church, Irma Rogers, Elliott Savage, George Marcy, Dominic Chinese, Vi Velasco, Liz Sheridan, Neva Small, Joe Corby and Peter Shawn. Most of the rest of the cast varies from inaudibility to no ability.

However, in their defense, it should be stated that Mr. Charnin's staging is several notches below his lyrics which are none too good, but better than Mr. Coopersmith's dialogue. The latter is so mawkishly melodramatic that I would not have been at all surprised if, during one of Mata Hari's vamping scenes, her bedazzled lover had recited Kipling's "A Fool There Was." Although the shapely Miss Vasselle is very far from "A Rag and a bone and a hank of hair," she is still no Greta Garbo in the acting department and no Maria Callas in the singing compartment. Again, both she and Mr.

Hurst have been strangled with lines, situations and direction that would bind far abler actors. I suppose this is what you might call a vanity production with the composer producing and the lyricist directing. Sadly, there is so little to be vain about. The only tribute I can pay the various creators is their stick-to-itiveness. It must require real fortitude to take a bad play in the first place and make it this bad in the second place.

Newsday 22 A.