Jaws 2 (1978)

I have a soft spot for Jaws 2. This is mainly due to the sense of nostalgia it evokes whenever I watch it, as opposed to it being a good movie. It was one of the very first movies my dad recorded on our VCR (in 1986) and, in fact, I saw Jaws 2 before I saw the original movie (we rented Jaws a few months later).  I was seven years-old at the time, therefore, I could have cared less about character development, or plotting, the only thing that mattered to me was the shark. As unnecessary sequels go, Jaws 2 isn’t bad, especially when compared to the countless Jaws rip-offs that were being produced at the same time (Orca, Grizzly, Humanoids from the Deep, and Barracuda, to name a few).  I would even argue that it is even better than the source material, Peter Benchley’s novel Jaws, which inspired the first movie.  Benchley’s novel is a truly dreadful piece of exploitation – it is equivalent to the kind of cinematic trash that Roger Corman was producing at New World Pictures at time – heavy on sex and violence (Hooper and Ellen have an affair), but light on story and characterizations.  It is absolutely miraculous how Steven Spielberg was able to take a piss poor novel and transform it into a cinematic masterpiece.  Jeannot Szwarc, the director of Jaws 2, deserves some credit for turning in a watchable movie, even if it greatly pales in comparison to its predecessor. 

Jaws 2 biggest flaw is that is a crowded movie. It is populated with characters completely devoid of any personality - I struggle to remember the names of the teenagers, with the exception of Tina, largely because she has a knack for being at right place at the right time; it is she and her boyfriend, Eddie, who witness the motorboat explosion and, later, stumble across the corpse of the half-eaten killer whale.  This is unfortunate, because it’s hard to care about the characters later on when they are being terrorized by the shark. There is also the unfortunate subplot involving Len Peterson, Ellen's greedy boss and local developer, who opposes Chief Martin Brody. This is supposed to add friction to Martin and Ellen’s marriage, but only serves as meaningless filler.  Roy Scheider does his best to bring an air of credibility of the proceedings, but there are a few moments where even he is defeated by the material; his performance in the first film was much more naturalistic, here, he tends to overact at times.  

There’s also a sense of a déjà vu in the movie’s first half - Chief Brody suspects a shark is swimming in the waters of Amity, but is greeted with initial skepticism by the town leaders; you would think that Mayor Vaughn would have learned his lesson after the events in the first movie.  This also begs the question: Why center the sequel on Chief Brody?  It would make more sense for the movie to follow the exploits of Matt Hooper – he is an oceanographer, hence it is only natural that he would inevitably encounter another great white shark.

It is also not surprising that the sequel is much more excessive in terms of the shark. In the first film, it wasn’t until the midway point that we were given a good look at the shark and, even then, it was fleeting. The sequel blows its wad in the first twenty minutes; the shark eats a water skier and then attacks the speedboat that was towing her.  In a laughable attempt at making the shark scarier, the filmmakers give it burn scars, the result of being in the middle of a boat explosion that it accidentally caused; the woman in the boat freaks out when she sees the shark, spills gasoline all over the boat and herself, and then fires a flare gun at the shark, which results in a big explosion.

Though, rather surprisingly, the death toll is relatively small (seven total) – this is an advantage in the movie’s favor. I recently watched the Roger Corman produced Sharktopus, and the move is devoid of any suspense largely because the body count (over 30) is so high that it becomes fairly redundant - every time the movie introduces a minor character they are promptly devoured. Indeed, most of the deaths are played for laughs. At least in Jaws 2, there is some element of suspense as to whether or not a character is going to survive. I still find the death of Marge to be a fairly shocking –after pulling Sean to safety she is swallowed whole by the shark. I also liked the fact that Sean is still traumatized by her death in the next scene as to just shaking it off; which is a tendency in most modern horror movies.  The last half hour is the strongest part  of the entire movie – the shark maybe a ridiculous at times, but at least the characters behave in a realistic fashion (no one cracks a stupid joke, there are no displays of bad assery), they are genuinely frightened and just want to survive.  The scene where the blonde girl, Lucy, starts praying may come off as maudlin, but it is perfectly believable, especially after having just witnessed her friend get devoured. 

Jaws 2 differentiates from its predecessor in that the second half is a race to the rescue, as opposed to being a hunting expedition.  In the first movie, the second half follows Brody, Quint, and Hooper as they hunt down the shark. The movie focuses entirely on their efforts to track down and kill the shark, without every once cutting back to the mainland – it effectively gives the audience a sense of isolation. These men are cut off from civilization and if anything goes wrong, no one will be able to save them.  Jaws 2, on the other hand, constantly cross cuts between Brody and the teenagers, and the “suspense” is built around whether or not Brody will arrive in time to save the teenagers from being devoured. It moves at a swift pace, but by constantly cutting back and forth between the two locations, it diffuses the tension – after each shark attack, the movie will cut back to Brody on the police launch, steadily on his way.  Brody gets sidelined for most of the second half; it’s only be sheer happenstance that he learns of the teenagers whereabouts.  It certainly doesn’t help that the teenagers are cardboard cutouts and lack the screen presence of the leads in the first movie.

I would like to think the scene with the beached killer whale corpse is a shot at the Jaws rip-off Orca; that movie begins with a killer whale killing a great white shark. It was producer Dino De Laurentis’ (still bitter that his King Kong remake made less money than Jaws) way of saying that Jaws was fun and stuff, but it was no match for Orca. Jaws 2, while definitely inferior to the first movie, is leagues a head of Orca.  Though, it is depressing to see that one of Jaws 2 biggest “scare” moments – the shark attacking the helicopter – is lifted from the movie Grizzly, another Jaws rip-off. In that film, the title monster (a fifteen foot grizzly bear) attacks a helicopter, though it only manages to spin it around a few times.

Jaws 2 proved to be enough of a hit that Universal green lit two more sequels (Jaws 3-D, and Jaws The Revenge), though it only did about 40% of the original movie.  It is an acceptable waste of time, especially on a dull, Sunday afternoon. So, if it happens to be playing on your local TV station (do they still show movies?) open up a six pack of beer and give it a watch. 

Credits

Cast:  Roy Scheider (Police Chief Martin Brody), Lorraine Gary (Ellen Brody), Murray Hamilton (Mayor Vaughn), Joseph Mascolo (Len Petersen), Jeffrey Kramer (Deputy Hendricks), Ann Dusenberry (Tina), Mark Gruner (Mike Brody), Marc Gilpin (Sean Brody), Collin Wilcox (Dr. Elkins), Gary Springer (Andy), Donna Wilkes (Jackie), Keith Gordon (Doug), David Elliott (Larry Vaughn, Jr.), Barry Coe (Tom), Gary Dubin (Eddie),  John Dukakis (Paul), G. Thomas Dunlap (Timmy), Cindy Grover (Lucy), Gigi Vorgan (Brooke), Billy Van Zandt (Bob),  Ben Marley (Patrick), Martha Swatek (Marge), Susan French (Grace), Jerry M. Baxter (Helicopter Pilot).

Director: Jeannot Szwarc
Screenplay: Carl Gottlieb, Howard Sackler.
Running Time: 116 min. 

Who Done It? (1942)

From 1940 to 1956, the comedy team of Abbott and Costello made 36 movies together. In that sixteen year span they made one genuine classic (Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein), some very good comedies (Hold That Ghost, Pardon My Sarong,The Time of Their Lives, Who Done It?, Buck Privates), and a few forgettable movies (Abbott & Costello Meet the Mummy, Mexican Hayride, Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff). However, it says a lot about their appeal that even their lesser movies are constantly amusing, if not particularly funny (I have a soft spot for Abbott & Costello Go to Mars). 

Who Done It? was the fourth (and last) movie Abbott and Costello made in 1942 and it is easily one of their better movies. It benefits greatly from a fine supporting cast (particularly William Bendix as a dimwitted detective and Mary Wickes as a lanky secretary) and some top notch direction by Erle C. Kenton – a gifted studio director whose best known for the horror classic Island of Lost Souls. Kenton keeps things moving at a swift pace and effectively builds tension by clouding the frame in shadows - the killer lurks about in the dark and there's always a sense that he could strike at any minute. 

I think one of the main reasons Abbott and Costello connected with World War II audiences was that they exemplified the every man; neither of them were particularly glamorous and they often began their movies working at a rather thankless job – in Who Done It?  they are a pair of soda jerks, Chick and Mervin, who work next in a drug store inside the local radio station; their true aspiration in life is to write radio mysteries.  When they learn that one of their customers, Juliet, is the secretary of Colonel Andrews, the executive director of the General Broadcasting System, Chick urges Mervin to put the moves on her in the hopes that it will lead to work. Mervin, however, proves to be no Romeo, but, thankfully, they manage to befriend Jimmy, an aspiring writer who also happens to be romantically linked to “Murder at Midnight” producer, Jane Little.  Jimmy gives them tickets to the “Murder at Midnight” broadcast, and everything seems to be looking up until Col. Andrews is murdered.  Chick and Mervin decide to solve the mysteries themselves, rather than call the police, and are confident that it will give them the national exposure that they truly deserve. When the real police show up, they naturally become the top suspects in the murder investigation.  Fortunately, Lt. Moran and his sidekick, Detective Brannigan, are dumber than Chick and Mervin – in one of the movie’s funniest moments Mervin manages to trick Brannigan into handcuffing himself.

Abbott and Costello were often paired with fairly likable juvenile leads: Richard Carlson and Evelyn Ankers in Hold That Ghost; Robert Paige and Virginia Bruce in Pardon My Sarong; and Patrick Knowles and Louise Allbritton in Who Done It?  The romantic leads tended to be stumbling blocks in the movies of other comedians; most notably, Bonnie Scotland, starring Laurel and Hardy. In that movie, not only are two romantic leads, Alan and Lorna, superfluous to the actual story, but the leading actress, June Lang, never actually meets the boys. Hell, the movie doesn’t even bother to resolve the Alan/Lorna story line.  Who Done It? is a rare instance where I wish the two juveniles would have been given more screen time.  Patric Knowles was, essentially, the poor man’s Errol Flynn, but he had a likable, easy going charm about him. Louise Allbritton was not your typical 1940s leading lady - her characters were fairly strong willed and  often carried themselves in a professional manner. In Who Done It?, Jane, rather than being a helpless damsel in distress, is rather proactive in solving the murder mystery.  It’s also refreshing that she is never put in the position of having to choose between Jimmy and her career in radio. 

Yet, despite the title and the synopsis I have laid out, the mystery is secondary to the comedy and is even forgotten about at times; there is a long stretch devoted to Mervin trying to contact the radio station after learning he has won $10,000 dollars on the radio program “Wheel of Fortune.” Every time he dials the number to the station, the operator keeps telling him, “The line is busy.”  This leads to a rather cartoonish gag in which he sprays a bottle of seltzer water in the payphone mouthpiece and it comes spurting out of the mouth piece on the other end, squirting the poor woman in the face.  If your main focus is on the murder mystery, then this scene will absolutely frustrate you – it goes on for nearly five minutes. 

Abbott and Costello were extremely popular on the radio (and later television), so it's not surprising that many of the laughs come from the dialogue. Here are some of my favorite bits: 

Detective Brannigan: (talking to a boy usher) Don’t you know it’s against the law to impersonate an officer?
Usher:  Then how do you get away with it?

Chick: (while pretending to be a detective) You know if we find the hand that fits the glove, we find the murderer.
Mervin:  (trying on the glove) And it fits me perfect.

Chick: (while Mervin is trying to contact station to claim his $10,000 prize) I’m going over here to figure out how to spend your money.

Credits
Cast:  Bud Abbott (Chick), Lou Costello (Mervin), Patric Knowles (Jimmy), Louise Allbritton (Jane), William Gargan (Lt. Lou Moran), William Bendix (Detective Brannigan), Thomas Gomez (Col. J.R. Andrews), Mary Wickes (Juliet), Don Porter (Art), Jerome Cowan (Marco).

Director: Erle C. Kenton
Screenplay: Stanley Roberts, Edmund Joseph, John Grant.
Running Time:  77 min. 

The Fog (2005): The Curse of the Terrible Remake

Remakes aren’t new to movies– they have been around since the invention of the medium. It is also a fallacy to suggest that the original is always better, as there are examples of a remake being just as good, if not better than the original; The Maltese Falcon (1941), The Ten Commandments (1956), and The Thing (1982), come to mind. Unfortunately, The Fog doesn’t belong in this category and, is in fact, one of the worst remakes of all time.  It is an extremely ill conceived remake, complete with an attractive, but bland, cast and some of the silliest looking CGI in film history.

The original movie, while not a classic, was still an effective horror movie filled with genuinely haunting visuals and a better than average cast; the only real misfire is Jamie Lee Curtis, who, as the hitchhiking artist, Elizabeth, is given very little to do.  The script is filled with holes, but John Carpenter’s efficient direction, plus Dean Cundey’s moody photography, help smooth things over.  The Fog was panned by critics when it came out, but its reputation has improved with passing of time.  The remake has been widely forgotten about and, despite being only a decade old, actually comes off as more dated than the original.

There are so many things wrong with the remake, but I will limit my criticisms down to three things:

1) Casting/Characters.
 It’s really hard to decide which piece of casting is worse- Tom Welling (as Nick Castle), or Selma Blair (as Stevie Wayne).  The original movie did a nice job of separating Stevie Wayne’s (Adrienne Barbeau) radio and real life personas – when she goes on the air, she adopts a much more soothing, and sexy, voice.  This nicely sets up the ending; when Stevie starts to suspect something is amiss she begins to use her actual voice and as the movie progresses, it becomes more frantic. The remake makes no distinction between the two – Selma Blair’s Stevie Wayne is just as sarcastic in her normal life as she is on the radio.  There's a lot of nice nuances in Barbeau's performance - just from  her standoffish attitude towards Dan the weatherman, we can deduce that she has just gone through a bitter divorce and wants to keep her distance. She has moved to Antonio Bay from the big city with her son, Andy, to begin a new life. This is also verified visually; the only interaction Stevie has with the other characters is via the telephone. None of this comes through in the remake, largely because Stevie is largely sidelined to make room for Elizabeth. The movie also has her in the same physical space as the rest of the cast during the climax. Stevie Wayne in the original movie was the glue that held everything together; she uses her vantage point (her radio station is located inside a light house) to warn her radio listeners about the fog and guides them to safety. She has no real function in the remake; she's just there.

Nick Castle is even more ill served, in the original, as played by Tom Atkins, he was a gruff, but rather intuitive fisherman; from what little evidence he has, he is able to deduce that the fog is of a supernatural origin.  In the 2005 movie, he is not only dull, but rather dim as well – he fails to recognize that the hitchhiker on the side of the road is his girlfriend, Elizabeth.  He is ready to have a tryst with Stevie Wayne when Elizabeth appears out of the blue (she has been in New York for last six months).  Maggie Grace is, essentially, inhabiting the role (Elizabeth) that Jamie Lee Curtis played in the original movie - and she is certainly given much more to do than Curtis – the problem is that neither the character nor the actress are particularly interesting to watch.  It is revealed that Elizabeth is a reincarnation of the lost love of one of the vengeful ghosts, Captain Blake.  This bit of exposition gets doled out throughout the movie, but there is really no substance to this actual storyline. Is it supposed to be romantic or tragic that Elizabeth is reunited with her past life lover?  The character never seems to struggle with these emotions.  It is reminiscent of The Mummy (1932), where the character of Helen is torn between her past love (Imhotep) and her modern day existence.  Helen genuinely struggles in her choice, whereas Elizabeth seems to choose Blake on a mere whim.  

Finally, there is Father Malone, a pivotal character in the original movie (wonderfully played by Hal Holbrook), who almost feels like an afterthought in the 2005 movie.  In the original movie, Father Malone is guilt-ridden by the sins committed by the town's forefathers; it’s him that discovers the journal of his grandfather. The journal reveals that they killed Blake, because he suffered from leprosy and wants to establish a leper colony near Antonio Bay. Father Malone character spends most of the movie brooding in anguish, but is given a redemptive arc when  he sacrifices himself to save the others.  In the remake, he just stumbles around in a drunken stupor and is killed in gruesome fashion. He's just another tally mark in the movie's body count.

2)      Endless Exposition/Pointless Subplots.
Watching the remake is on par with watching a person fold laundry for ninety minutes – it is extremely boring. The pacing of this movie is an absolute mess, this is largely due to the fact the exposition never stops; it isn’t until midway through the movie that Elizabeth discovers the journal of Patrick Malone, one of the conspirators  who killed Blake and his men.  When the movie should be shifting gears and ratcheting up the suspense, it instead flashbacks to Elizabeth’s previous life aboard the ship of lepers – it is extremely unnecessary given that we are already given this information at the movie’s beginning ; a beach comber approaches Elizabeth and gives her a pocket watch that he found on the beach. He warns her, “If you touch it, things will change.” Later on, Elizabeth tells Nick about a recurring dream she’s been having which ends with her drowning.  These are two incidents are enough to signal that Elizabeth is remembering a past life, but the filmmakers keep spoon feeding us this information. 

However, this isn’t nearly as irritating as the pointless subplots that the movie quickly discards minutes after having introduced them – the most obvious example being the videotape that shows the ghastly murder of Nick’s cousin, Sean.  Earlier in the movie, Sean and Nick’s friend, Spooner, are partying aboard his boat with two bikini clad woman. Spooner, rather conveniently, is videotaping the thing for all prosperity.  Sean and the two women are killed, but Spooner survives the night by locking himself in the freezer. Nick finds the video camera and has Elizabeth hide it in her handbag.  The authorities want to charge Spooner with murder, but thankfully Elizabeth has the video camera on hand to clear his name. NOPE! She proceeds to lose it in the ocean, when she falls off a plank in a boathouse.  Fortunately, nothing ever comes of these murder charges and Spooner is free to go.  The original avoided needless filler, but the remake is loaded with it. The failed tryst between Stevie Wayne and Nick is another example of this – nothing is ever made of it.  They do bump into each other in town and exchange a few words, but that’s about it.

What is the guiding logic to Blake’s revenge? In the original, it was fairly clear, “6 MUST DIE.” Six men were responsible for killing Blake and his crew, and they have come back to seek revenge. Here, it is implied that he is after the descendants of the town’s founding fathers; the four men who betrayed him.  If that’s the case, then why kill the two women aboard the boat and the weatherman?  Is everyone in town a descendant of the four conspirators?  What’s the point of the fog? In the original, Blake and crew were killed while a fog bank consumed the coastline. The founding fathers used it to their advantage and tricked Blake into crashing his clipper ship on the rocks by lighting a fire on the beach. They then plundered the ship and used the gold it was carrying to build the town of Antonio Bay.   In the remake, the four men board Blake’s ship and set fire to it. So, again, why the fog?

3)      The Special Effects.
The shots of the fog rolling along the coast in the original were genuinely creepy, in the remake they are laughable. This is one example where it would have been advantageous to use practical effects (smoke machines) instead of CGI – it is absolutely silly looking. We get endless shots of actors staring at what is obviously a green screen and not really certain just what their reaction should be. The most laughable moment comes when Stevie’s son, Andy, outruns the fog on the beach and just barely makes it inside his house.  Also, Blake and his ghostly crew can kill people merely by touching them – a hand pops out of the sink and grabs Andy’s babysitter, Connie, by the wrist, whose flesh slowly gets eaten away, until the only thing that is left of her is a skeleton.  If it’s that simple, then why isn’t this the M.O. of Blake and company? Also, if their touch is lethal, then how come the corpses of the two bikini-clad women were left virtually intact? I wouldn’t take issue with it if it weren’t for the fact that very little of this movie makes any sense.The scene of Elizabeth confronting the ghosts in the graveyard is eerily reminiscent of the Army of the Dead sequence in The Return of the King; this may seem like a compliment, but that is easily one of my least favorite scenes in the entire trilogy.

If there’s one positive thing that can be taken from the 2005 remake of The Fog it is this – it makes you appreciate the ingenuity of the 1980 original even more so. Sure, it’s a flawed movie, but it is infinitely better than its generic remake. 

Credits

The Fog (2005)
Cast: Maggie Grace (Elizabeth Williams), Tom Welling (Nick Castle), Selma Blair (Stevie Wayne), DeRay Davis (Spooner), Kenneth Welsh (Mayor Tom Malone), Adrian Hough (Father Malone), Cole Heppell  (Andy Wayne), Sara Botsford (Kathy Williams), Rade Sherbedgia (Captain William Blake), Mary Black (Aunt Connie), Sonja Bennett (Mandi), Meghan Heffern (Jennifer), Matthew Currie Holmes (Sean Castle), Jonathon Young (Dan the Weatherman), Alex Bruhanski (Hank Castle), Christian Bocher (Patrick Malone)

Director: Rupert Wainwright
Screenplay: Cooper Layne.
Running Time: 100 min.

The Fog (1980)
Cast: Hal Holbrook (Father Malone), Adrienne Barbeau (Stevie Wayne), Tom Atkins (Nick Castle), Jamie Lee Curtis (Elizabeth), Janet Leigh (Kathy Williams), John Houseman (Mr. Machen), Nancy Loomis (Sandy), Charles Cyphers (Dan), James Canning (Dick Baxter), Ty Mitchell (Andy), Regina Waldon (Mrs.Kobritz), John F. Goff(Al Williams), George “Buck” Flower (Tommy Wallace), Darwin Joston (Dr. Phibes), Rob Bottin (Blake).

Director: John Carpenter
Screenplay: John Carpenter, Debra Hill.
Running Time: 90 min. 

The Ghost Breakers (1940)

Bob Hope, despite being one of the most beloved comedians of all time, never made a genuine masterpiece. He turned out some very good movies (The Ghost Breakers, The Cat and the Canary, Son of Paleface, Road to Morocco, and The Princess and the Pirate, to name a few), but I would hesitate to call any of them classics. This is largely due to the fact that Hope’s greatest strength, his voice, lent itself better to the radio than it did to the movies; the humor is in the delivery of a joke, not so much the joke itself.  Therefore, it’s not surprising that by the 1960s, Hope’s humor was extremely antiquated; his inoffensive brand of humor (one liners, good natured ribbing) was out of place in a decade that produced Dr. Strangelove, The Graduate, and Head. The less I say about his Christmas Specials, especially in the 90s, the better.

The Ghost Breakers and The Cat and the Canary are easily Bob Hope’s best movies, for two important reasons:

1)      They both play on Hope’s radio persona. In both films he is cast as a radio personality who unwittingly gets involved in a murder mystery. In The Cat and the Canary, he is radio actor, Wally Campbell, whose expertise in radio mysteries often puts him one step ahead of the narrative.  In The Ghost Breakers he is crime reporter, Larry Lawrence, who manages to get on the bad side of New York gangster, Frenchy Duval, after doing an exposé on the radio.  Through a set of contrivances (Larry mistaken believes he shot a man to death), he winds up on steam ship to Cuba. He is able to evade Frenchy, and the police, with the help of heiress, Mary Carter, who has inherited a “haunted” mansion in Cuba, “Castillo Maldito.” Grateful for her assistance, Larry vows to help Mary with her dealings in Cuba.

2)      His co-star in both movies is Paulette Goddard.  It’s a shame that Hope and Goddard didn’t make more movies together as they have great onscreen chemistry.  In The Cat and the Canary, Goddard is your standard damsel in distress, but in The Ghost Breakers her character, Mary Carter, is a genuinely brave soul and, despite all the warnings of danger, is determined to go there and claim her new property.  Goddard is a lively leading lady and holds her own against Bob Hope. Goddard was no stranger to comedy, having co-starred with (her then husband) Charlie Chaplin in Modern Times and The Great Dictator.  

It’s also interesting that Hope’s cowardly screen persona is greatly toned down for this movie - Larry is a fairly competent and dashing hero. He takes upon himself to solve the mystery of Mary’s “haunted” mansion and willing goes into harm’s way, with his servant, Alex, in tow.  More importantly, Hope proves to be a convincing romantic lead – it’s easy to understand why Mary would fall for a guy like Larry, he’s the only fun person in her life. Every one else around her is so grim, but Larry makes the most out of a bad situation. There’s a rather lovely moment, after an attempt has been on Mary’s life, where Larry cheers her up by asking her for a dance. It doesn’t have any narrative function, but the interplay between Hope and Goddard is marvelous.

The most problematic aspect of Ghost Breakers is Alex, who, as played by Willie Best, is a cowardly black man who stumbles through the scenery. The comical black sidekick was, unfortunately, a common trope in many murder-mysteries of the time. Though, to the movie’s credit, Alex, despite being a scaredy-cat, proves to be fairly reliable companion and……..SPOILERS…… actually saves the day at the end.  Alex can be cringe inducing at times, but compared to Stepin Fetchit in Charlie Chan in Egypt, he is a step in the right direction, albeit a very tiny one. The rest of the  supporting cast is good; Paul Lukas, in particular, is appropriately sinister as the solicitor, Parada. Richard Carlson's performance, however, greatly suffers because his character isn't introduced until the movie's half way point. 

It isn’t until the movie’s third act that Hope and company arrive at the “haunted mansion,” the first hour effectively builds up to this moment - characters warn Mary to stay away from Castillo Maldito; there are a few attempts on her life; and we’re even given a back story on the mansion.  The opening sequence is appropriately spooky; there has been a city wide blackout in Manhattan due to a lightning storm, so characters are either in silhouette and engulfed in shadows.  Ghost Breakers is one of the rare horror - comedies that is actually unnerving at times.  The scenes in Castillo Maldito are straight out of a nightmare –the scene of the zombie (Noble Johnson) shuffling towards Mary is genuinely creepy. It’s also refreshing that movie is fairly ambiguous about the supernatural; in most horror-comedies it is all revealed to be one elaborate plot by the bad guy to scare away potential meddlers from a hidden treasure. Granted, this is essentially the plot to The Ghost Breakers, but not all of its horrors are explained away – SPOILERS- in a complete twist it is revealed that ghost Larry witnessed rising from its coffin is indeed a ghost. This isn’t Scooby Doo, Where Are You where the villain possesses a 16 mm movie projector that can magically project images onto thin air, nope, this is the rare case where the supernatural does exist.

The visuals, the direction, and the performances are all first rate, but the screenplay is incredibly sloppy; plot threads are completely abandoned, while supporting characters are completely forgotten about.  Through out the movie Mary keeps bumping in a comically awkward man, who is revealed to be an acquaintance of Francisco Mederes - an antagonist of Mary’s.  Who is this man? Is he working for Mederes? Or is he just a tourist? The movie never explains this. Is there a deleted scene that reveals his identity? Or did the filmmakers decide to discard this character altogether, because, “WHO  CARES?”  I wouldn’t have a problem with the latter if it wasn’t for the fact that so much emphasis is placed on the character.  How do the zombie and his mother factor into all of this? Are they in cahoots with the main villain? Or do they simply resent intruders? The movie also forgets about the whole Frenchy Duval subplot. At the end, Larry and Mary are merrily on their way back to America, gushing about their honeymoon, while forgetting that Larry is still a marked man.  It is highly unlikely that Frenchy Duval is going to forget that Larry stood him up. 

Credits

Cast: Bob Hope (Larry), Paulette Goddard (Mary), Richard Carlson (Geoff), Paul Lukas (Parada), Anthony Quinn (Ramon Mederes/Francisco Mederes), Willie Best (Alex), Pedro de Cordoba (Havez), Virginia Brissac (Mother Zombie), Noble Johnson (Zombie), Tom Dugan (Raspy Kelly), Paul Fix (Frenchy), Llody Corrigan (Martin).

Director: George Marshall
Screenplay: Walter DeLeon.
Running Time: 85 min. 

Beach Blanket Bingo (1965)

April 14, 1965 – Richard Hickok and Perry Smith (the subjects of Truman Capote’s novel In Cold Blood) are hanged; The Supremes are number one on the music charts with “Stop! In the Name of Love’; and moviegoers have the option of either seeing Girl Happy, or Beach Blanket Bingo.  Since, I’ve already discussed Girl Happy in a previous post that leaves me no choice but to review Beach Blanket Bingo. I’m not going to lie, I absolutely adore this movie. I will concede that most of the criticisms against this movie are valid (the most obvious being, “It’s corny”), but I would argue that the filmmakers (director William Asher and co-writer Leo Townsend) are well aware of these shortcomings and deliberating set out to subvert the Beach Movie tropes.

The movie juggles three story lines: Frankie and Dee Dee (Annette Funicello) decide to take up sky diving; Bonehead (Jody McCrea) falls in love with a mermaid (Marta Kristen), Lorelei; and Eric Von Zipper (Harvey Lembeck), the dopey leader of a motorcycle gang, becomes absolutely smitten with pop singer, Sugar Kane (Linda Evans).  While American International  would go on to produce two more beach movies (How to Stuff a Wild Bikini and The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini), this would be final of the Frankie/Annette beach movies; Frankie is relegated to a cameo in How To Stuff a Wild Bikini, while The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini has a, mostly, different cast.  Therefore, it is surprising how the Frankie/Dee Dee story line feels like an afterthought; the only real tension is whether or not Frankie will allow Dee Dee to go through with her jump.  In the previous movies (Beach Party, Muscle Beach Party, Bikini Beach) the writers usually contrived a way to split them up only so they could be happily reunited at the end. The typical plot would be:  Frank just wants to have fun, while Dee Dee wants to settle down.  This would lead to a bitter argument and they two would, in a ruse to get the other one jealous, find comfort in the arms of a stranger, only to, inevitably, realize that they truly belong together. Beach Blanket Bingo discards this story line entirely; Frankie may flirt with the instructor Bonnie, but she is more of an annoyance than an actual threat.

In fact, the Bonnie subplot is resolved in a rather half ass manner.   After Dee Dee has made her free fall, Bonnie puts the plane on automatic pilot and puts the moves on Frankie, but he rebukes her. His rejection enrages her and she tears her shirt to make it seem like Frankie has assaulted her. When they land, she runs into the arms of Steve, a fellow sky diving instructor and would be lover, but he doesn’t believe her; neither does Dee Dee or any one else, for that matter.  Frankie points out to the Steve that Bonnie wouldn’t be looking around if he “got off the jealous kick.”  This makes Steve furious and he vows that Frankie is “going to be sorry.” Later on, both Frankie and Dee Dee are set to do another free fall and Bonnie tells them that she is worried about their safety, because Steve is still angry.  However, after setting up Steve’s wrath, the movie promptly diffuses the tension; Frankie asks Steve if there is any reason for him and Dee Dee to be worried and Steve says, “No.”  Steve even pulls Dee Dee to safety after her and Frankie dive into the ocean.  Why the change of heart? Steve does finally admit his feelings for Bonnie and two are last seen kissing on the beach.  This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; the common mistake that the three previous movies made was separating Frankie and Annette for a good chunk of the story. Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello, while not great actors, were a great double act. They had genuine onscreen chemistry and one could easily believe that they were a couple in real life.  Funicello was a Walt Disney star and the most famous Mousekeeter of the 50s (and, arguably, of all time), while Avalon was a teen crooner who’s most famous hit was “Venus.” His biggest break, however, was landing  a supporting role in John Wayne’s The Alamo.  It was casting a coup when producers Samuel Z. Arkoff and James H. Nicholson were able to get Funicello to appear in Beach Party, much to the chagrin of Walt Disney. I'm willing to bet the movie's success was largely due to teenage boys hoping to catch a glimpse of their childhood crush in a bikini. They must have been disappointed when Annette trotted out onto the beach in a fairly modest swim suit.

Pajama Party and How to Stuff a Wild Bikini, while fun movies are also easily the weakest in the series; Frankie is relegated to a cameo in both, while Annette is paired with a different leading man (Tommy Kirk in Pajama Party, Dwayne Hickman in How to Stuff a Wild Bikini). Annette co-starred with Kirk in a few Disney movies (most notably, The Shaggy Dog), but they never made for a convincing couple. Dwayne Hickman is a fun enough actor, but most of How to Stuff a Wild Bikini is Annette prattling on about how much she misses Frankie.  Frankie and Annette play off each other wonderfully, they are even given a nice bit of business in the beginning – Frankie, while tuning the radio, sees a bikini clad beauty walk by and does a double take, Annette notices this and chides him for his wandering eye. He does an embarrassed laugh and goes back to tuning the radio. It’s a pure visual moment and does a nice job of establishing these two characters (without relying on a single line of dialogue).  It’s also nice that Dee Dee isn’t as big of prude as she is in the previous movies and, for once, is allowed take part in the action. Before her making her jump, Frankie tells her that she doesn’t have to prove anything to him, she interrupts him and says that’s she got to do it for herself. He understands and allows her to go through with it.

It’s pretty apparent that writer/director William Asher is much more interested in Sugar Kane’s story, than he is with Frankie and Dee Dee’s sky diving antics, and with good reason, it is easily the best part of the movie.   It could have easily been a movie onto itself, because there are a lot of things going on; the best part being Paul Lynde as Sugar’s opportunistic manager, Bullets.  To promote Sugar’s new record, “Come Fall With Me,” Bullets has Bonnie, doubling for Sugar, sky dive into the ocean. Bonnie is picked up by a boat, carrying Sugar, and then Sugar takes her place in the ocean. Frankie and the gang witness all this and pull Sugar in.  Bullets arrives on the scene, with a photographer and columnist in tow, and comes up with headline “SINGER SAVED BY SURFER.” 

There is a clever bit of misdirection by Asher in this scene as the audience is set up to believe that Sugar will be a romantic interest for Frankie.  However, Frankie, at least in this movie, is too in love with Dee Dee to really consider a fling with Sugar. We are also treated to a genuinely funny exchange between Frankie and Bullets in this scene:

Bullets: I didn’t catch the name, boy.
Frankie: I didn’t throw it.
Bullets: That’s pretty tacky, boy.
Frankie: I didn’t want us to have a language barrier.
Bullets: Oh, a smart neck!

Linda Evan’s injects a child like innocence into the character of Sugar Kane; she’s extremely sweet, but rather naïve to the ways of the world.  When Von Zipper breaks into her room and tells her that he is kidnapping her, she naturally assumes that it is a publicity stunt arranged by Bullets.  In fact, she genuinely enjoys the time she spends with Von Zipper (he teaches her the game of pool) because, while he may have the body of grown man, he has the intellect of a five year old.  He doesn’t kidnap her for personal gain; he genuinely believes that he is saving her from the “bad” influence of the surfers.  He tells her time and time again that he “adores” her and that she is his “idol.” To Sugar Kane, it’s all one big adventure and, for a brief moment, she is given a chance to enjoy life, instead of being under Bullets' slightly tyrannical rule.  Indeed, a more appropriate ending for Beach Blanket Bingo would be for Bullets to be pushed into the ocean while Von Zipper and Sugar Kane elope. However, that would probably too creepy for most audiences, so, instead, she is paired up with the aptly named Bonehead.

The Bonehead/Lorelei story line is a bit jarring, because it is played in a completely straightforward manner.  Lorelei is a 300 year-old mermaid and on one day of the year she can walk on land; the catch being that she has to return to ocean by midnight. What we have here is essentially a Cinderella-like fairy tale trapped in the middle of a goofy Beach Movie, albeit this romance ends on an unhappy note;  after having spending the day with Bonehead, Lorelei tells him that they can never be together and returns to the ocean. Bonehead eventually, finds comfort in the arms of Sugar Kane; not a bad trade off, but given how indifferent he acted towards Sugar earlier in the movie, it comes off as a rather desperate move on his part.  Though, their “happy” union is responsible for one of the movie’s funniest lines:

Bonehead: (to Sugar) It was like we were brought together by the mystery of the sea.
Bullets: I knew he was stupid, but sickening, too.

If you made it this far, you are probably asking, “How could you love a movie like this?” Yes, I agree, it is one big mess of a movie; it is simultaneously - a beach movie, a rock n’ roll musical, a supernatural romance, a slap stick comedy, and a sky diving thriller. The storylines are practically disconnected from one another; though, it is Lorelei that informs Bonehead about Sugar’s abduction (she writes the words Von Zipper in the sand).  How Lorelei is privy to this information is never explained.  She must be a psychic mermaid.  Yet, it is arguably the most “filmic” of all the beach movies; William Asher is clearly having fun with the medium. The previous movies that he directed (Beach Party, Muscle Beach Party, Bikini Beach) more or less resemble television sitcoms; this isn’t too surprising as Asher directed well over 100 episodes of I Love Lucy and Bewitched.  In Beach Blanket Bingo, it is clear that Asher wants to broaden his scope; hence there are more sight gags than in the previous movies.  

There are two scenes that stand out:  

1) Donna Loren, the first and only Dr. Pepper Girl, sings her obligatory song, “It Only Hurts When I Cry.” While Miss Loren belts out this tune, the movie keeps cutting to a teary eyed Bonehead. We, naturally, assume that he is reacting to the song, but then camera tilts down to reveal that he is slicing an onion.  It’s a nonsensical throw away gag (why would he be slicing an onion in the living room?), but it’s far more interesting than the usual staging of these scenes (a person sings, while everyone shakes their booties).  It should be noted that Donna Loren, despite her two minutes of total screen time, is given a rather high billing in the credits (7^th overall). In her contract with Dr. Pepper, it was stated that she couldn’t wear anything that would compromise her “squeaky clean” image, meaning she couldn't show her navel onscreen. She would show up long enough to do a musical number and then promptly disappear(though, she has a few lines of dialogue in Pajama Party).

2) When Dee Dee does her first free fall, she begins to feel woozy and her face, literally, turns green.  This is achieved through lighting filters and it looks absolutely remarkable.  Beach Blanket Bingo, despite its low budget, looks terrific (certainly up to par with the musical Elvis was making at MGM around the same time) and this largely due to ace cinematographer, Floyd Crosby.  He was the director of photography on High Noon and also shot a few on the Vincent Price/Roger Corman/Edgar Allan Poe movies that American International was producing at the time.

Beach Blanket Bingo is a fairly self reflexive movie and Asher will often have characters commenting on the action; when it is revealed that the lecherous pool shark, South Dakota Slim has Sugar tied up in a saw mill, Bullets remarks that it’s straight out of the Perils of Pauline (a silent serial starring Pearl White).  When Frankie sings “These Are the Good Times,” the movie cuts to Bullets looking on with utter contempt. After the columnist, Earl Wilson, tells Bullets that he’s going to give Frankie a favorable write up, Bullets sneers, “Sugar taught him everything he knows.” There’s even a scene that consists of Don Rickles insulting everyone (in a loving manner); my favorite is when he turns to Frankie and shouts, “YOU’RE  43, FRANKIE! What are you doing here?”  Both Frankie and Von Zipper often break the fourth wall to point out the absurdity of the situation; Von Zipper is hanging from a helicopter and asks, “Why me? Why me all the time?”  Later, Frankie punches out South Dakota Slim while Bonehead unties Sugar in the background.  Sugar embraces Bonehead and exclaims, “My hero!” Frankie, astonished by all of this turns to the camera and says, “I do all the work and he gets all the credit! Well, that’s life for you.”  It is very self reflexive, which isn’t something you would normally associate with a silly beach movie.  

It is also interesting see a beach musical adopt a silent comedy aesthetic in it’s final ten minutes,; Beach Blanket Bingo ends a “race against time” chase to save Sugar from the clutches of South Dakota Slim, who has her strapped to a log on a buzz saw. It goes into pure silent move mode – complete with fast motion and silly sight gags. It even takes time to recreate a Charley Chase gag; Von Zippers pants are saturated with water, after having fallen into the ocean, so he walks into a stall, unzips his pants, and a deluge of water comes streaming from underneath the doors, the camera then pans up to reveal a look of relief on Von Zipper’s face.  The silent great Buster Keaton has an extended cameo as Don Rickle’s assistant; the movie will sporadically cut to him doing bits of physical comedy, like chasing after a curvy blonde, or while fishing, accidentally hooking a woman’s bikini top and pulling it off.  While Beach Blanket Bingo is not up to par with The General, or even Keaton’s lesser movies, he’s still a lot of fun to watch. 

The cast is likable, with the exception of John Ashley. I personally believe that Ashley was initially  American International’s answer to Elvis Presley; he was going to be the studio’s “bad boy.” In the movie How to Make a Monster he sings an Elvis-like song and does a dance number that is reminiscent of one Elvis did in Jailhouse Rock. The problem was the Ashley possessed neither Elvis’ charisma nor talent, he is just bland. Also, by 1965, Elvis had shed his bad boy image and was busy making light hearted fluff like Girl Happy, hence Ashley really had no function within the studio; it’s not surprising that he would eventually go onto to make grade Z horror movies in the Philippines.  Steve should be a threatening character, but with Ashley in the role, the audience shrugs him off. 

Finally, it should be noted that in the scene where Von Zipper “kidnaps” Sugar, the movie that is playing on the television is Invasion of the Saucer Men, produced by American International in 1957. This was common for the beach movies to reference other American International movies; in Beach Party, Muscle Beach, and Bikini Beach, Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, and Boris Karloff pop up in cameos. Karloff would later appear in The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini, which reused footage (and sets) from the Vincent Price movie, The Haunted Palace. In Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine, Vincent Price’s Dr. Goldfoot matches wits with Avalon’s Craig Gamble, while both Annette Funicello and Harvey Lembeck (Von Zipper) appear in cameos. That movie reuses The Pit and the Pendulum set, while Price wears the same garb he wore in that film. What I am trying to say is that silly American International Beach Movie takes in place in the same cinematic universe as the American International Edgar Allan Poe movies.  MIND BLOWN! Of course, if you haven’t seen any of these movies, this revelation will have you yawning with complete indifference. 

Cast: Frankie Avalon (Frankie), Annette Funicello (Dee Dee), Harvey Lembeck (Eric Von Zipper), Linda Evans (Sugar Kane), Paul Lynde (Bullets), Jody McCrea (Bonehead), Marta Kristen (Lorelei), Deborah Walley (Bonnie), John Ashley (Steve),  Donna Loren (Donna), Don Rickles (Big Drop), Michael Nader (Butch), Donna Michelle (Animal), Buster Keaton (Buster), Bobbi Shaw (Bobbi), Timothy Carey (South Dakota Slim), Earl Wilson (Himself), Andy Romano (J.D.),  Patti Chandler (Patti), Alberta Nelson (Puss),  Myrna Ross (Boots), The Hondells (themselves).

Director: William Asher
Screenplay: William Asher, Leo Townsend.
Running Time: 98 min. 

Fashion Model (1945)

Fashion Model is not a particularly good movie, but it gets a few novelty points by making its protagonist, Jimmy O’ Brien, a clumsy stock boy, rather than a hard nosed detective.  Jimmy and his fashion model girlfriend, Peggy, work at Madame Celeste’s fashion store, and both of them are suspects in a murder investigation.  It all begins when Jimmy finds the corpse of model, Yvonne, in a dumbwaiter; stumbling upon corpses proves to be a talent for Jimmy, as this happens three times in the movie.  The police are notified and Jimmy is immediately the top suspect.  It doesn’t help that Peggy resented Yvonne for trying to steal Jimmy away from her.  To make matters worse, a security guard overheard Jimmy say that he was going to strangle Yvonne just so he and Peggy could be rid of her. Of course, the security guard failed to recognize the sarcasm in Jimmy’s voice – he only said to it to quiet down Peggy, who was berating him for talking to Yvonne.  Jimmy’s luck gets worse as the movie progresses; thankfully, Peggy is able to solve the mystery, sort of.  The correct phrasing would be that she accidentally stumbles upon the killer, and, luckily the police, at Jimmy’s insistence, manage to arrive just in the nick of time to save her.  The killer’s motivation is a rare broach that, accidentally, has made its way into a jewel box belonging to the store.  

It would have been interesting to see what Alfred Hitchcock, Fritz Lang, or any other master filmmaker could have done with material, but in the hands of William "One Shot" Beaudine, it becomes a rather inane comedy mystery, with the emphasis on the former.  There is no attempt by Beaudine to develop any sort of suspense, instead everything is played for laughs. The audience never really fears for Jimmy and Peggy, because any sort of tension is diffused by bad jokes and silly sight gags. It is also amazing how chipper Peggy and Jimmy remain throughout the movie, despite the corpses they keep stumbling into.  Hell, even the denouement is played for laughs; the killer, after being put in handcuffs, quips that prison life can’t be any worse than living with his domineering wife.  

Peggy and Jimmy are not exactly the brightest bulbs in the pack, but fortunately, for them, the detectives (O’ Hara and Grogan) on the case are even dumber than they are.  Granted, the thick-skulled detective isn’t anything new to the comedy-mystery genre, but these guys are extraordinarily dumb. How stupid are they? Well, let’s just say that Jimmy and Peggy are able to elude them by posing as store mannequins.  This is actually the centerpiece of the entire movie; Fashion Model is 61 minutes long and, at least, ten of those minutes are devoted to Peggy and Jimmy acting like the mannequins. The scene ends with an absent minded window dresser putting them up in a display window. This, naturally, draws a crowd of onlookers, which in turn makes O’Hara and Grogan wonder what all the commotion is about. Finally, a light bulb goes off in O’Hara’s head, and he realizes that these mannequins are actually the murder suspects that he is after. He is able to nab Jimmy, but Peggy manages to get away.

This isn’t the first time that O’Hara and Grogan are fooled by a fairly transparent disguise; earlier in the movie, Jimmy, is locked up in jail, and Peggy is able to break him out by donning the disguise of an elderly woman. She walks into the police station and, in a creaky voice, claims that she is Jimmy’s grandmother. When Grogan goes to check on Jimmy, she sets fire to a newspaper and then lets out a huge scream.  This distraction last long enough that Peggy is able to get Jimmy out of jail, while Grogan stands there looking completely dumb founded. 

Fashion Model should be an embarrassingly bad movie, but it is greatly blessed by its likable leads, Robert Lowery and Marjorie Weaver; they both give it their all, despite the silly material they have to work with. Weaver and Lowery have great chemistry, and it’s easy to imagine a franchise being centered on these two characters. Does Jimmy keep his day job as a stocker? Does Peggy retire from modeling? Do they become private detectives? Do they get married? These questions would remain unanswered as Fashion Model  would prove to be Marjorie Weaver's last starring movie role; she has five acting credits after this film, three of which are television appearances.  Robert Lowery is, probably, best known for playing Bruce Wayne/Batman in the 1949 serial Batman and Robin, but he would go on to having a fairly successful television career. Director William Beaudine had a fairly prolific career that spanned over six decades and includes over 300 movie credits. Granted, none of them are any good, but still that is quite an achievement. Edward D. Wood, Jr. is a far more celebrated "bad" movie maker and he didn't even come close to matching Beaudine's output.

Fashion Model was released by Monogram; a studio that made low budget movies from the 1930s – 50s. Fashion Model is, arguably, one of the their better movie, which should give you an idea just how bad Monogram's output was.  A movie like Fashion Model could never be made today, largely for the fact that modern audiences could never accept a complete numbskull like Jimmy as the protagonist. If Fashion Model were remade, Jimmy would, obviously, be transformed into a brooding bad ass and Peggy would be a super sexy lingerie model (played by Kate Upton) with ninja like abilities. The violence would be more gratuitous and the comedy would be non existent, which isn’t necessarily bad thing. Still, there’s an innocent charm about Fashion Model; sure, it ultimately fails at what it tries to accomplish, but I would rather watch a light hearted mystery than a dreary action movie.

 

Credits
Cast:  Marjorie Weaver (Peggy), Robert Lowery (Jimmy), Tim Ryan (Inspector O’Hara), Lorna Gray (Yvonne), Dorothy Christy (Madame Celeste), Sally Yarnell (Marie), Edward Keane (Jacques Duval), Dewey Robinson (Detective Grogan),  Jack Norton (Herbert), Harry Depp (Harvey Van Allen), Nell Craig (Jessica Van Allen), John Valentine (Davis), Cedric  Stevens (Jeffries).

Director: William Beaudine
Screenplay: Tim Ryan, Victor Hammond.
Running Time: 61 min.