R.I.P. Robert Duvall (video)

 

(Spoiler warning if you haven't seen "Lonesome Dove")

 

Video by Porfle Popnecker. I neither own nor claim any rights to this material. Just having some fun with it. Thanks for watching! 

R.I.P. Robert Duvall (video)

BIKINI BEACH (1964) -- Movie Review by Porfle

 

 Originally posted on 5/16/21

 

Currently re-watching: The third film in the "Beach Party" series, 1964's BIKINI BEACH. This one begins as they usually do, with our fun-loving teens on another school break and hitting the beach and the girls sequestering themselves in separate sleeping quarters that the boys would love to move into themselves.

Naturally, good girl Annette Funicello serves as unofficial chaperone, making it even more difficult for horn-dogging hot-dogger Frankie Avalon to score with her. Both sides are caught up in constant ogling and lusting after each other, and must spend all that pent-up energy by frantic dancing and loads of surfing.

This time, however, a new wrinkle presents itself when new British singing sensation The Potato Bug sets up a lavish tent compound on the beach and gives the girls something to really scream and dream about.  

Since this is 1964, and the movie was written by out-of-it old fogies (including director William Asher, who would go on to helm TV's "Bewitched"), the Potato Bug is used to ridicule current sensations The Beatles although the character looks and acts like a cross between Terry-Thomas and Jerry Lewis' "Nutty Professor."

Of course, Annette is on the outs with Frankie again (the guy just doesn't want to get married yet) and uses Potato Bug to make him jealous. This opens up a whole new angle on the "beach movie" premise when they end up challenging each other to a drag race presided over by local club owner/abstract painter/drag strip manager Big Drag, played by the great Don Rickles.

An additional subplot involves fuddy-duddy newspaper publisher Keenan Wynn, who wants to discredit the kids as dangerous delinquents in his papers while sympathetic teacher Martha Hyer runs interference for them. 

Keenan's assistant is a chimp named "Clyde" (Janos Prohaska, the Horta in the Star Trek episode "Devil in the Dark"), who proves how dumb the kids are by surfing, drag racing, and abstract-painting just as well or better than they do.

Motorcycle moron Eric Von Zipper (Harvey Lembeck) and his "army of stupids" return to cause their usual trouble, helping Keenan in his efforts to thwart their mutual foes, the surfers.

Having learned how to administer "the finger" (a paralyzing move applied to the temple) from Bob Cummings in the first film, Von Zipper proceeds to accidentally use it on himself numerous times and must be carried away by his gang to sleep it off.

 

The film's fervent desire to entertain us results in a big chase scene through town involving dragsters, motorcycles, and go-carts, a combination brawl and pie fight at Big Drag's place, and much semi-hilarity involving the zany Potato Bug, who is in fact played by heavily made-up Frankie Avalon himself (although a stand-in is used in several shots) in a surprisingly comedic performance.

Perky singer Donna Loren returns to the series, and we also see the return of regulars Deadhead (Jody McCrea), hyper-kinetic go-go dancer Candy (Candy Johnson), and pretty boy John Ashley. Future "Petticoat Junction" co-star Meredith MacRae replaces Valora Noland as "Animal", and Timothy Carey is menacing as Von Zipper cohort "South Dakota Slim." As the previous films ended with cameos by horror stars Vincent Price and Peter Lorre, this one is graced by none other than the venerable Boris Karloff. 

 

Rock and roll songs are provided by some bands you probably never heard of, including one group who cocks a snoot at those wacky mop-tops from Liverpool by taking the stage at Big Drag's club in shaggy Beatle wigs and then yanking them off to reveal shaved heads.

Frankie and Annette get their own crooning in amongst the other cacophony, of course (including one number Frankie sings as "Potato Bug"), while none other than Little Stevie Wonder (as he was known then) sings us into the marathon closing credits during which world-class shaker Candy Johnson and one of the ladies from the local old folks' home have a frenzied dance-off.

Having already established the basic premise of the series and many of its recurring tropes in the first film, BIKINI BEACH wastes no time diving into all of this colorful cinematic chaos with utter abandon and a total disregard for how incredibly dumb and groan-worthy it all is. But this serves not as a drawback but as a license to pile as much dumb fun into the whole thing as possible.

BIKINI BEACH (1964) -- Movie Review by Porfle

BEACH BLANKET BINGO (1965) -- Movie Review by Porfle

 

Originally posted on 5/20/21

 

Currently watching: BEACH BLANKET BINGO (1965), the fourth--and arguably one of the best--of American-International's "Beach Party" series.

Anyway, it has what is probably the catchiest theme song, sung with gusto by Frankie, Annette, and the gang over some bouncy opening titles.

All the usual ingredients are here: vacationing teens having a ball at the beach, lovebirds Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello having a tiff and making each other jealous by flirting with others, an opportunistic adult trying to make a buck off them all (and played by a well-known older actor), cycle stupes Eric Von Zipper (Harvey Lembeck) and his gang, lots of mostly bad songs, and a whole lotta slapstick nonsense.

 

 

This time, legendary comedian Paul Lynde (with whom director William Asher would later work on the TV series "Bewitched" along with Asher's wife Elizabeth Montgomery) is the greedy manager of future "Big Valley" star Linda Evans as teen singing sensation Sugar Kane, who performs a couple of bland songs.

Deborah Walley hits the beach at last as Bonnie, Sugar's skydiving stand-in during a publicity stunt, with regular John Ashley's "Johnny" character rebooted as her jealous pilot, now named "Steve." (Deborah and John would later marry in real life.) This leads to a whole subplot about Frankie and Annette competing to see who can learn to be the better skydiver.

From this comes a surprisingly jarring bit of real-world intrigue when Deborah puts the moves on Frankie while airborne and then, upon his refusal to comply, rips her blouse and threatens to accuse him of attempted rape when they land. 

 

 

 
Whoa, Nelly! Good thing Annette knows Frankie too well to fall for such a lowdown ruse, but yikes...this goes way beyond the usual teen hijinks and into genuine "fatal attraction" stuff.

The best subplot involves Jody McCrea, whose "Deadhead" character has been upgraded to "Bonehead." While helping to rescue Sugar after her pretend skydive into the ocean, he encounters a beautiful mermaid named Lorelei (played by future "Lost In Space" star Marta Kristen) and they fall in love.

Nobody will believe his claim to have met a mermaid, and their tentative romance proves both charming and genuinely heart-tugging, with Marta a winning mermaid and Jody getting to do something besides be a total blithering moron for a change.

Screen legend Buster Keaton makes his first appearance in a beach movie, along with gorgeous sidekick Bobbie Shaw as Swedish knockout "Bobbi." Despite his advanced age, The Great Stone Face still proves game enough to provide a couple of his trademark pratfalls. 

 

 

Don Rickles goes from "Big Drag" to "Big Drop" to reflect his new role as a skydiving instructor as well as owner of the club where the kids hang out and listen to The Hondells. Timothy Carey returns to up the creep factor (as only he can) as unsavory bad guy "South Dakota Slim."

Naturally, biker boob Eric Von Zipper (Harvey Lembeck) eventually blows in with his army of stupids to disrupt everything by kidnapping Sugar and setting into motion an even more chaotic and cartoony chase scene than the last one, ending with Sugar tied to a log that's headed for a buzzsaw, "Perils of Pauline" style. He also manages to give himself "the finger" (a lingering holdover from the first film) a time or two as well.

By this time, the "beach party" series was on the verge of winding down and American-International would start putting its stars into different variations of it (such as "Ski Party" and "Fireball 500"). But with BEACH BLANKET BINGO we're still riding the crest of the wave along with Frankie, Annette, and the gang, and it's still just as much dumb fun as ever.

BEACH BLANKET BINGO (1965) -- Movie Review by Porfle

BEACH PARTY (1963) -- Movie Review by Porfle

 

 

Originally posted on 5/16/21

 

Currently watching: I bought a DVD set with 8 of the original Frankie and Annette movies so I could relive a fun part of my childhood, and the first movie on the menu tonight is the one that started it all, BEACH PARTY (1963). 

 

Just this once, the two stars aren't Frankie and Annette, but grown-ups Bob Cummings and Dorothy Malone. 

 

Bob plays an eccentric bearded anthropologist studying teenage behavior and its similarities to the pagan rituals of primitive tribes, with Dorothy as his gorgeous female companion. 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Frankie's miffed that Annette won't fool around until marriage so he tries to make her jealous by getting cozy with the statuesque Eva Six. 

 

Annette retaliates by making moves on straight-laced Bob and helping him shed his square ways and get more into the groove.

 

Regular cast members John Ashley, hip-shaking Candy Johnson, and functioning moron Deadhead (Jody McCrea) are introduced, as are Harvey Lembeck as cycle stupe Eric Von Zipper and his loyal gang of idiots.

 

 

 

Morey Amsterdam plays an aging hipster, and even Vincent Price pops in for a cameo as "Big Daddy." Dick Dale and the Del Tones are on hand for some surf music, while Frankie and Annette take turns crooning a few sappy love songs.

 

BEACH PARTY's plot is pretty thin but that doesn't matter, since the purpose of this breezy comedy is to have a good time, ogle some bikini babes and/or beach hunks, groan at a lot of bad gags, and forget your troubles for an hour and a half.

 

 

BEACH PARTY (1963) -- Movie Review by Porfle

SUSPENSE: THE ULTIMATE COLLECTION -- DVD Review by Porfle

 

Originally posted on 5/7/09

 

I'm fascinated by the early days of television, and you can't get much earlier, or more fascinating, than SUSPENSE: THE ULTIMATE COLLECTION.  

This is Jurassic TV, a primitive-looking, melodramatic thriller anthology that premiered in 1949 and lasted for 260 live, half-hour episodes until 1954. Ninety of those episodes have been unearthed and are now available in this 12-disc set which spans the series' entire run. 

As in any anthology series, the quality of the writing varies--in fact, some of the stories are clunkers. But for the most part, these episodes are consistantly exciting and imaginative, and live up to the series' title with stories that quickly establish a suspenseful situation and then keep us on edge till the end. 

Several stories are adapted from the works of authors such as Robert Louis Stevenson and Edgar Allan Poe. Rod Serling's contribution, the eerie "Nightmare at Ground Zero", is a tense and unsettling atom-bomb tale that really stretches the limits of live television. 

Knowing that these teleplays were performed live gives them the immediacy of theater combined with the intimacy of television. You can imagine the actors and crew rushing into their next set-ups during a slow dissolve, and sometimes you can hear them doing it, too. 

Gaffes by these skilled actors are few, while the occasional technical blooper is unavoidable. In "The Comic Strip Murder", a piece of equipment can be seen moving past a high-rise balcony like a UFO. In "The Parcel", a stock clip of a crowd enjoying a ballgame runs out before the director can cut to Ray Walston, Royal Dano, and Conrad Janis sitting in a bleacher mock-up. Cues are missed, boom mike shadows flit across walls, focusing is done on the fly, and sometimes you can even spot an errant crew member where he shouldn't be. But mistakes like this are part of the appeal of watching live television, and the fact that there are so few of them in this smoothly produced and directed (mostly by Robert Stevens) series is impressive. 

Most of the stories are grounded in reality, with the occasional foray into the supernatural. The very first episode in this collection, "A Night at the Inn" with Boris Karloff, is an unabashedly nutball tale of a gang of thieves stalked by knife-wielding, turban-wearing Indians for stealing a sacred idol's jeweled eye, until the indignant idol itself shows up to reclaim it. Another episode, "Black Passage", features none other than Stella Adler as a hot-blooded Latin vampire and a very young William Prince as the unwary suitor of her equally bloodthirsty daughter. 

Hardboiled crime drama rubs shoulders with frequent doses of Hitchcock-style mystery and creepiness, along with the type of macabre irony often found in EC comics. Richard Boone gives a super cool performance as a homicide cop closing in on a medical examiner whose guilt has been inadvertently captured on film in "Photo Finish." In "My Old Man's Badge", Barry Nelson plays a beat cop who singlehandedly takes on a drug-smuggling ring to avenge his father's murder, and in "Dead Fall", he's framed for passing industrial secrets to the Commies. 

On the darker side, "Dr. Violet" gives us Hume Cronyn as the proprietor of a carnival murder museum who takes a chillingly active part in his exhibits, while "Dead Ernest" generates suspense by showing us a catatonic man mistakenly pronounced dead and lying on a morgue slab awaiting the embalmer. 

One of the main pleasures of watching this collection is its incredible array of familiar faces, from past, present and future stars to the great character actors, often doing brilliant work. Ray Walston (billed as "Wallston" in one episode) and Royal Dano appear several times. Leslie Nielsen, just beginning his career as a dramatic actor which would later give way to comedy, stars in "The Brush Off" with future "Superman" star George Reeves. Boris Karloff shows up more than once and Bela Lugosi gives a delightfully florid performance in an adaptation of Poe's "The Cask of Amantillado." 

Other notable names include Paul Newman, Otto Kruger, Kim Hunter, Anne Francis, Lee Marvin, Harold J. Stone, Conrad Janis, Eileen Heckart, Walter Matthau, Eddie Albert, Lloyd Bridges, Mike Kellin, Ward Bond, James Whitmore, Vic Morrow, Jackie Cooper, Brian Keith, Darren McGavin, Franchot Tone, Jack Klugman, Tom Drake, Gene Lyons, Cloris Leachman, Mildred Natwick, Lilli Palmer, Eva Marie Saint, Richard Kiley, Joan Blondell, Jack Palance, Eva Gabor, Peter Mark Richman, Jayne Meadows, Robert Webber, and many more. Several of them make multiple appearances. 

These episodes are kinescopes, meaning that a monitor was filmed during the live performances so that copies of each episode could be sent to various network affiliates (this was before videotape or cable). This gives the show a somewhat murky picture and sound quality that is unavoidable; otherwise, however, I think these DVDs look very good. 

The 12 discs are contained in six attractive slimline cases which were originally released in three seperate sets, and contain all 90 episodes of the show that are known to exist. The final episode, "The Funmaster" with Keenan Wynn, is the only non-live entry and was aired in 1958, four years after the show's demise, presumably in an effort to revive it. 

The musical score for "Suspense" is performed almost entirely on Hammond organ (with the occasional piano, tubular bells, etc.) in the style of the early soap operas, and sounds similar to the music in Herk Harvey's CARNIVAL OF SOULS. As a bonus, almost every episode contains the original commercials for the show's sponsor, Auto-Lite automotive products, featuring dulcet-toned announcer Rex Marshall and a delightfully corny assortment of cartoons and animated clips.

SUSPENSE: THE ULTIMATE COLLECTION is over 43 hours of pure, unadulterated nostalgia that I found irresistibly entertaining. Whether you're a fan of early TV, or simply curious about what the medium looked like before it began to earn nicknames like "vast wasteland" and "boob tube", this time capsule from television's infancy should give you just the sort of buzz you're looking for. Buy it at 

 

 

SUSPENSE: THE ULTIMATE COLLECTION -- DVD Review by Porfle