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Monster Shack Roundtable: "Monstrously Miserable Musicals" The other day I received an email from fellow bad-movie aficionado Nathan Decker (of Million Monkey Theater fame...what? Never heard of it? Then check it out!). It turns out that Nathan was interested in submitting a guest review for these purple pages, and since I'm always open to fresh material and horrible movies, I was happy to check out some of his work. I then suggested that we do a review roundtable instead because it would be an chance to pound out a shorter review and combine it with a couple other short reviews for a decent sized post. Since a roundtable consisting of 2 contributors could hardly be described as "round", I contacted Monster Shack's long suffering proof reader Sean Ledden and inquired if he'd be interested in jumping into the fray. Sean's response was a resounding "YES!", well, at least that's the way I interpreted it, and the race was on. We (ok, I, being the stubborn wanna-be tyrant who runs this site) decided on the theme of "Monstrously Miserable Musicals" namely because: 1) A bad musical can be soooooooooo bad that it just plain hurts, and that's what this site is all about. Movies and Pain. 2) I had a musical sitting around that I've been meaning to review, and here was a perfect opportunity to get off my arse. 3) I couldn't think of anything else with such an incredibly inventive, catchy theme title. Oh, I am so clever. After much nail biting, hair pulling, and beer drinking we came up with our choice of movies as follows: Dennis: Rock 'n' Roll Nightmare Nathan: The Great Gabbo Sean: Can't Stop the Music I think that this will be fun enough to try again in the future. (Well, fun to write. I hope it's fun to read as well. ) If anybody else would like to chip in on any future roundtables just contact me and we can take it from there. Enjoy!
Rock 'n' Roll Nightmare (1987) Directed by John Fasano Run Time: 83 minutes Taglines: When you raise Hell ... the Devil must be paid - in full! When the Band Starts to Rock...Heads Start to Roll!
Randy : Let's go check upstairs. After watching this movie, oh, 3 or 4 times, I still couldn't decide whether or not it warranted being closely examined in a cynical review. It is undoubtedly a bad movie, yet it was obviously made for a laugh and has that "hey guys, wadda ya say we make a monster movie?" innocence to it that in many ways deserves a bit of respect rather than ridicule, I mean: Hey! They went out and made a monster movie...have you? After meditating (read: drinking beer) on the issue of whether or not to give this movie a going over, I realized that this film had several aspects which indeed warranted a roasting review:
2) There is a certain amount of smugness about Canadian born rocker/writer/director/producer/star Jon Mikl Thor that gets on my nerves. Simply put, he's like the super-condensed aggregate of everything I hated in high school: heavy metal, buff guys that were bigger than me, and dudes with perms. (Ted, if you're reading this, you know I'll never forget the day you showed up in 9th grade with that perm! Ha!) He's like the singularity at the center of the Black Hole which I remember as the 1980's. To be fair, this movie's DVD had an interview with Thor and he does seem like a nice enough guy who's just out to have some fun, make some music, and dabble in a few bad movies. OK, fine. As Ali-G would say, "Respect." But when he goes on to mention that he made this movie because he knew that he had the "talent and the skill to pull it off", well, that's just asking for ridicule. So here you go: Open on a rather desolate farmhouse where a Normal Everyday Family is going about their morning routines. Unfortunately, this picture of country serenity is broken when a demon (read: rubber skeleton) pops out of the oven and pulls Mother inside. Because, you know, a portal to Hell would most likely open from within the kitchen stove, because, uh, it's hot and all. Anyway, Mom is sucked into Hell, Pops is sucked into Hell, as little boy NoName watches with terror from the top of the stairs and lets out a blood curdling scream because, well, seeing your parents sucked into Hell via the kitchen stove would be distressing. After the opening credits we immediately cut to John Triton, played by, Tada! Jon Mikl Thor, as he drives his van down the highway. A pair of handcuffs hanging from the rearview mirror over the velvet covered dashboard confirms that, yes, he is a rocker. Did I mention that he is driving down the highway? Well, he does. And he drives. And he drives. And, man, does he drive the hell out of that highway. Wow, watching a van drive down a highway is more exciting than you'd think. Really. Hey, I went to get a beer and he's still driving. Man, this is gonna suck. I'll cut to the chase and tell you that the van finally arrives at their destination: a house they've rented for 5 weeks (!) in order to concentrate on their music and get a new album in the box. I hope you're sitting down before I shock you with this bit of information: the house they've rented, are you ready for this? is the same house where the demons from Hell came out of the oven! No seriously. Man! What are the odds?! Boy, I sure hope that those tragic events from the past don't have any negative repercussions for the band! A quick count of the band, including the manager and band members' girlfriends, totals to 8 people, which we are to believe were all riding in the back of the van on this road trip to the house.
Now that must have been a comfortable ride... Oh, and to whoever is playing the role of the band's drummer Stig: You have the worst Australian accent I've ever heard. Ending every sentence with "mate" does not make you Australian. Sorry, mate.
I'm from Australia, mate. Really, mate. I am, mate. Naturally, Stig's girlfriend, Lou Anne turns out to be a priss as she laments, "No hot tubs?! And no Dynasty!?" she complains, "Why couldn't you have become a coke dealer or something sensible?" Ahhh...the 80's. And really, if you're going to seclude yourself so you could focus and get some work done, would you really want to have your girlfriend tagging along? Especially nagging prima donnas like her? I know, I know: she's just demon fodder for later in the film, and eventually she does drop her top, so I guess I shouldn't really complain. The band makes their way inside, a horribly scripted argument over who gets which bedroom ensues (Excitement!) while the band's manager, Phil, prepares dinner. (More Excitement!) A couple of really, really lame False Scares later, the band and their babes are gathered around in the living room having a couple of beers and chatting away. (Characterization!) In some lovely examples of Clumsy Product Placement, a couple of the girls choose to drink Coke instead of beer, which naturally obliges them to hold the cans with the Coca-Cola logo front and center, no matter how awkward the angle to which their wrists and fingers have to conform. But hey, somebody had to pay for this cheese, so why not the good people at Coke? (Note that all the labels on the beer cans are conveniently obscured by fingers and objects on the table.)
Yes, we always drink Coke like this. Anyway, after dinner John whoops out that timeless rocker Call to Arms: "Let's rock and roll!" He and the band head out to the recording studio in the barn (don't ask) to try and get some tracks down on tape. Phil and the girls are relegated to dish duty, all except for the Lou Anne because she feels KP is beneath her. (Conflict!) (Phil and the others wash the dishes accompanied by the songs of Jon Mikl Thor's real-life band named, imaginatively enough, "Thor", where he bills himself as "The Legendary Rock Warrior". You may now go to the bathroom and throw up now.) Cut to the film's first music video featuring John and the rest of the band. If I remember correctly, Jon Mikl mentioned in the DVD's "Making of..." extra feature (and yes, of course I watch those things!) that he wrote the songs just for the film. So count yourself lucky to hear these limited release hits. Or else buy the Rock-n-Roll Nightmare soundtrack. Go ahead. I dare you. As the song drones on, we see a POV shot of something scurrying across the floor of the stage. The critter moves up to the sound booth and barfs some goo into Phil's drink. I'm sure Freud would have something to say at this junction, but I'm not gonna go there.
ROCK-N-ROLL NIGHTMARE!!!! OK, Phil gulps down his drink along with the monster's, er, sputum, so I guess he's infected now or something. Who knows. Unfortunately, the song is ruined when Stig strikes a cymbal for the closing note and breaks his drumstick. (Humor!) Phil comes to the rescue and makes his way down into the dark, spooky basement to fetch another pair while the other band members sit around sucking face and making me nauseous. Speaking of nauseous, as Phil walks by one of the band members remarks, "There goes Wonder Manager." Taking the bait, a girl responds, "Wonder Manager?!" to which he replies...wait for it..."Yeah, it's a wonder that he's our manager!" Har dee har har . I haven't laughed this much since I found out I had to take a 10% pay cut. Down in the basement Phil discovers not only a box of extra drumsticks but also Stig's girlfriend Lou Anne. I assume Lou Anne is possessed because she's acting really spaced-out and she also, to my great relief, rips off her shirt. Phil makes a few token protests but ends up smooching with her but doesn't notice that she's now wearing a rubber monster mask. Sorry. What I meant to write was that Phil doesn't notice that she's transformed into a Hideous She-Demon from Hell. The Horrible Rubber Mask Demon From Hell bites Phil in the neck causing him to scream. John and the others run downstairs to investigate. Incredibly, Phil (and the monster) are nowhere to be seen. (Huh?) After a thorough search which lasts all of 2 seconds Jon and the others conclude that Phil is probably playing a prank ("Like the time he booked us all into the same hotel room in Boston!" chuckles One Of The Girls...ho ho). So, yeah, like I said, even though Phil walked right by them and went down the stairs to the basement, they decide that he probably didn't go down there after all. (?) "Let's go check upstairs," John's girlfriend, Randy, suggests. "Well, it sounded like the scream came from down here," John retorts, but after a pause he adds, "You're right, let's go upstairs." (I can't figure this out. My brain hurts.) Upon going upstairs the band quickly discovers that their van is missing. Now, obviously this plot device is meant to "cut them off" from the outside world so that they can't simply jump into the van and escape the demons. Unfortunately, whenever an exterior shot of the house is presented, you can see cars driving by on the main road a mere 100 feet away. Like I've said many times before: I'm willing to suspend belief for the sake of having fun, but c'mon...you gotta meet me half way. Anyway, the missing van is interpreted to mean that Phil has simply driven off into town "to get plastered." Yeah, boy, now that's something a band manager would spontaneously decide to do while going to get a new pair of drumsticks. And really, even to suggest such a thing shows how little faith the band has in Phil...so if I may ask, just why the hell do you have him as your manager in the first place if you have so little trust in the guy? Yes, that's correct: I'm a grown man getting into a debate, with myself, about a movie called Rock 'n' Roll Nightmare. Kids beware: think twice before starting a bad-movie review web site. Phil's disappearance forces the others to call it quits. (Why? Can't they continue without him?) Anyway, this gives the various boy-girl couples a chance to cuddle up for the night. In an amazingly fresh turn of events, the women want sex but the men are too distracted to go along with them. Get it? Because, you know it's always men who want sex and now it's the women and, and, ...oh screw it. Actually, to my great joy, Stig the Fake-ass Australian Drummer is killed by a monster in his bathroom, which I must admit made the whole movie worth watching. Ok, well, he isn't killed but a monster takes him over or something so he/the demon goes in and screws his girlfriend. Yes, this movie it that charming. In a truly ludicrous scene, a gaggle of 4 groupies finds out that Triton (the name of the band, if I haven't mentioned yet) is staying at the house. So...they show up to pay their respects (No...not that way) and party a little bit.
You can just feel the energy in this film, cantcha? Anyway, Phil, who previously had his shoulder bit off by a Lou Anne Demon while looking for drumsticks (Remember? No? Don't worry.) let's opens the front door and invites them inside. Oh, and he's acting really weird so I guess that means he's possessed. Or something. How the hell do I know? Phil freaks out the girls by demanding to see their boobs (not making this up, folks) so the four groupies turn tail and flee the house in disgust. (As they run back to their car, the camera pans down to show Phil's hand is all 'demonized' or something: i.e., he's wearing a green rubber glove bought at a local Halloween shop by the special effects crew. (In fact, it's the same rubber glove worn by the monster that killed Stig upstairs in the bathroom. Now that's getting your money's worth from a prop.)
Mwuhahaha! I have an eeeeeeeevil hand! The next morning a couple of the girls are washing dishes and discussing Phil's whereabouts. "I'm sure he's not dead or anything or else he would have called," remarks one of the gals. I'm pretty sure that line isn't exactly what she meant, but you get her point. Oh, and the band's keyboard player (Rod?) and his girlfriend (Mary?) get killed by Phil-Demon. Naturally, all you see is that damned green glove come into the scene and pull them out of the shot because to actually, you know, show them getting killed would've cost money. Music video number two. This time it's the legendary rock song "Energy Takes Me Where I Wanna Be". Never heard of it? Me neither. If you're watching this movie at home, now is a wonderful time to go get a beer. Or take out the garbage. Or bang your head against an exterior wall of your house. Do anything you can to avoid watching the next 3 minutes of the film featuring 'Triton' singing "Energy Takes Me Where I Wanna Be". The aforementioned song concludes and the band pairs off for a 10 minute break, i.e., to screw each other. Stig and Lou Anne head outside where he wants to show her something special. No, he doesn't shove a pair of drumsticks into his brain as I had hoped. Rather, Stig starts taking his clothes off as a giant rubber hand bursts out of his chest, grabs Lou Anne's boob (+1 gratuitous tit shot), and then kills her off screen due to budget constraints, natch. Let's see, a couple other people are laying in bed grinding on each other. Oh, yeah, it's the keyboard player and some other dude. And yes, it's awesome when you're nearly an hour into a film and you still don't know the characters' names. I think they mentioned that his name is Max, but I've been so distracted by rubber hands and phallic monster puppets that I must have missed it. Oh gee, Jon and his girlfriend have made their way into the shower where they too start making out and (presumably) having sex...all to the stomach-churning sounds of a "Thor" rock ballad from OK, if I'm getting this right, it looks like the kid from the beginning of the movie, you remember him? The one who saw his parents get sucked into the oven by a Rubber Demon from Hell? Yeah, him. Anyway, he shows up inside the house, lures Max and his Main Squeeze out into the barn where, as you can see by the picture to the left, he's transformed into a Monster. To my great relief, Max and his squeeze are quickly dispatched by Rubber Monster Boy. Now that everybody is gone, Jon and Randy are getting a little nervous, but decide that Phil is behind it and that they've all gone to town or something. This is all so stupid that I can't get into it because my brain hurts. With nothing else to do, Jon grabs a Coke (after mentioning "I think I'll have a Coke" numerous times in order to fulfill all the clauses of the product placement contract) and heads out to the barn to work on "that love song" he's been trying to finish. Terror ensues when he reaches into the fridge to grab a Coke and a little monster tries to bite his hand. TERROR, I say...TERROR!
Blrghghhhh! Blaaaghghghhh! OK, since this review was supposed to be a short one I'm going to cut to the chase. Jon plays it cool in the basement while little monsters humorously try to attack by jumping at him while he's busy working on his latest song. (They miss because he <cough> drops his pencil and bends over to get it just as the monster springs. Oh, and one little Penis Monster tries to grab Jon but gets crushed by, yes, Jon's Coke can. Har dee har.) Eventually the main demon who's behind all these shenanigans makes his appearance, and it's no less than Beelzebub himself. Once again, due to budget constraints the Prince of Darkness has been reduced to a rubber puppet smeared with Vaseline, so it's hard to get tooooo scared, but I'm trying.
The Prince of Darkness. No. Seriously. I'm not kidding. Beelzebub, being the Prince of Darkness and all, immediately begins feeling his oats and going on and on about how he's going to kill all the humans and blah blah blah. No wonder he can't conquer the world: he's too busy running his damn mouth all the time. Oddly, Jon doesn't seem to be at all phased by this strange turn of events. "You're wasting my time, Bub." (!!) I bet you're wondering why he's so calm and collected, aren't you? Admit it. You are. Well, take your heart medicine, and sit down if you're pregnant, because here comes the super duper plot twist: Jon is really the archangel Triton, sent down to do battle with the Devil himself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll let you catch your breath. What about the band? "They're shadows I created to entertain your little friends," Triton informs, "Just characters I drew from horror movies." "I...am the Intercessor!" Triton continues as he transforms into the true Nightmare of this film: namely an oiled up muscle-head wearing a cape and spiked jock strap. (!!!)
Before the inevitable Battle Royale begins in earnest, Triton reads Beelzebub the riot act: "You overstepped the line again, Bub. It's the Creator's highest law that keeps you in your dark place...and yet you and your brethren still insist on coming into this world and trying to steal a place in the world of the living," Triton takes a dramatic pause and gives a very coquettish glance towards the camera before concluding, "When will you ever learn?"
"When will you ever learn?" Beelzebub finally hears enough of Triton's verbal abuse (and frankly, I am too), and as the lovely restrains of yet another Thor song fills the air, the Dark Lord begins tossing what looks like green rubber starfish at our hero. As is revealed by the "Making Of..." extra, and also easily observed, the attacking starfish-thingees wouldn't 'stick' to Jon Mikl, so he would have to actually catch them and hold them against his body in order to simulate being 'attacked'. And yes, it looks as hokey as it sounds. Actually, it looks wayyyyyy worse than it sounds.
Hazzah! Beelzebub's starfish-flinging gambit fails and he's forced to resort to hand-to-rubber-hand combat. If thing's weren't bad enough just having to watch this nonsense, there are plentiful 'artsy' camera shots of the 2 combatants from the floor looking upward, giving the weary viewer many unwanted glimpses of Jon Mikl Thor's spike-bedecked groinaticle area. Triton eventually wins the match, by, well, basically punching Beelzebub in the face about a gazillion times. Having had enough abuse for one movie, the Evil Overlord disappears in a shower of sparks (read: Roman candle). "I'll see you again, old Scratch," Triton murmurs as we fade to black. Oh yeah, and there's a SUPER SURPRISE open ending where we hear a scream as the camera zooms out from somebody's house in Suburbia. So, yeah, old Scratch is back, I guess. Or something. Blah. Dennis Grisbeck (June 2007)
With no further delay I now offer Nathan's take on an old, and creepy, bit entitled The Great Gabbo:
The Great Gabbo (1929) Directed by Erich von Stroheim Run Time: 92 minutes This is a bit of a new challenge for me. I'm used to reviewing trashy sci-fi and monster movies, which are normally full of busty girls and exploding helicopters, films that you can pretty much turn your brain off and enjoy with a nice beverage. This one, however, is a musical (yes, yes, I know, I suffered a head injury recently...) from the golden age of talking pictures. 1929 was a tough year for America, the stock market was about to collapse in spectacular fashion, the Great Depression was looming over the horizon, and Pitt got crushed by USC in the Rose Bowl, but Hollywood was still cranking out legions of musicals, like Nero fiddling as the embers sparked to life in Rome. The Great Gabbo is one of those mass-produced musicals, a pretty pedestrian movie, and an even worse musical, but it does have a certain charm to it. "The Great Gabbo" is the stage name for Gabbo Storch, played by 44-year old Erich von Stroheim, a legend in the early days of talking pictures, who most strangely I just saw as Rommel in Five Graves to Cairo (an outstanding movie, btw). He's a ventriloquist, and by all accounts a pretty good one. Though not so good as to justify his enormous megalomania and mercurial personality. Gabbo is the quintessential egotistical actor, so wrapped up in his own self-importance that he fails to see how others perceive him. He’s John Travolta, he’s Klaus Kinski, he’s Marlon Brando, he’s Russell Crowe, he’s Justin Timberlake, and he’s Roger Clemmons. If he was a woman he’d be Madonna, he’d be Paris Hilton, and he’d be Lindsay Lohan.
Gabbo is a short, balding Teutonic man, certainly not attractive but possessing an imposing forceful personality. His voice is loud and strong and tinted with a German accent, and when he gets mad he sounds like Colonel Klink yelling at Sergeant Schultz. He even wears a monocle! Awesome! Efficiency is his main focus it seems, demanding perfection from everyone and everything, obsessing about every little detail like Alfred Krupp at his forge. Gabbo’s only real friend is Otto, his hand-carved basswood ventriloquist dummy, and even he can’t stand him half the time. Otto looks a bit like Opie Taylor and is always well-dressed in suit and tails. His voice, provided by an off-screen actor, is like a lilting singsong little boy and quite annoying.
In the beginning, during the early years of Gabbo’s rise to fame, he was in love with a beautiful young dancer named Mary, who was also his stage assistant. She loved him also, but someone with Gabbo’s caustic and temperamental personality is excruciatingly difficult to live with. It didn’t help any that for his part Gabbo kept his love for Mary unspoken, perhaps out of fear of the unknown or perhaps out of a lack of self-confidence in the one area he couldn’t control. Whatever the reason, Gabbo loved Mary secretly, but visibly showed her nothing but scorn and contempt. And yet, Mary stayed with him for a long time, perhaps magnetically drawn to his forceful and commanding personality, but hoping that deeper inside was a man she could cuddle and read Jane Austin with. All women love the “bad boy” because they think they can change him, and they all get hurt in the end. Mary is played by 32-year old Betty Compton, who would go on to rack up a zillion movie roles in a length career, including being nominated for an Oscar in 1930, just a year after our movie was released. She was also married to our film's director, James Cruze, though she's a good enough actress for that not to have mattered. Mary is a very attractive woman, with a slim body and sexy athletic dancer’s legs. She makes the 1920s flapper style look good, even those head-hugging slouchy hats. She could surely do much better than the frumpy ageing Gabbo, but that speaks more to her tastes in men than anything.
For the last two years, Gabbo and Mary have been working in a smalltime off-Broadway venue in Patterson, New Jersey, which is about as close to a fetid swamp as you can come. The show is pretty barebones, with Gabbo and Otto sitting in a simple chair on a mostly empty stage. Mary assists him, bringing drinks and props to him on stage. In one of the racier bits, Mary is dressed in a demure French maid outfit (!), the forerunner of all those glitzy skin-tight dresses that the magicians' assistants wear nowadays (just go to Vegas and see any show on the Strip for examples).
Eventually, Mary can’t take the abuse any more and she leaves after a final fight. Gathering up all her courage, she walks out on Gabbo, vowing never to return. Gabbo is flustered, but his ego won’t allow him to do anything than yell and demand she leave faster. This is an extremely difficult thing for Mary, as she loves Gabbo very much, and several times she almost changes her mind, but in the end she departs. After she is gone, Otto and Gabbo have a man-to-man "talk". Otto basically tells him what a dumbass he is for letting Mary walk out, but Gabbo won’t listen. Throughout the length of this film, Otto the dummy functions almost as an independent sentient being. In private and in public appearances, Otto speaks on his own, even while Gabbo is eating or smoking. Other people consider this to the be sign of a master ventriloquist, but we get the impression that something almost supernatural is going on. Why the filmmakers chose method this is not known, but the vagueness of it leaves it open for discussion. Is Otto acting as Gabbo’s conscious? Is Otto a substitute for a son that Gabbo lost? Is Otto possessed by Satan? Is the CIA involved? Gabbo has a visible scar across his forehead, did he suffer some sort of injury during The Great War that has made him insane enough to talk to wooden dummies? There’s also an interesting little ten-second shot here, where Gabbo, in his sorrow, goes to take a drink of whiskey. To do so, however, he dips down almost out of sight behind an open steamer trunk lid, with only a glimpse of the bottle seen. This was the days of Prohibition, remember, and there were laws against drinking on screen. Imagine if we still had that law today, half the movies would never be made!
Several years now pass as seconds on screen. After leaving Gabbo, Mary parlays her talents into a nice job as a singer and dancer on Broadway. She also finds a man to marry, a fellow singer named Frank. Frank is borderline Gabbo-like in his ego and arrogance, though he loves Mary openly, and they seem to have a fairly healthy relationship. Mary likes the strong, domineering type, remember. For his part, Gabbo also finally hits it big. He too now has his own Broadway show, and has done so well that he’s known as the "world’s greatest ventriloquist". His shows sell out every night, foreign heads of state request his presence, and everyone in New York City knows his name. For an egomaniac like Gabbo this should be nirvana. Sadly, however, Gabbo is one of those people who can never truly be happy (or is only happy when he’s miserable) so all this success has done very little to improve his grumpy moodiness. He still rants and rages about the smallest things, pushing his stage assistants around like Bismarck driving the Prussian cavalry into France. We go now to a glitzy Manhattan restaurant, a large open place, with a full band entertaining the diners. The walls and doorways are in that beautiful art deco style that was so popular in the 1920s (I love art deco and am eagerly awaiting its comeback). The schtick is that Gabbo and Otto come here almost nightly as a publicity stunt (organized by his theater managers) to give a little free preview show to the diners so they will want to come to Broadway for the full act. This is another example of the spooky Jedi mind tricks that Gabbo uses to make Otto talk while he stuffs his face with truffles and lobster.
This puppet is freaking me out! Puppets unnerve me anyway, but this one speaking on its own in that annoying little German boy voice makes my skin crawl. I keep expecting him to either jump up and start slashing everyone like Chucky or announce the annexation of Austria. Coincidentally, Mary is also here and watches Gabbo from across the room with some wistfully longing looks. She’s never given up her love for him, despite the years, and still misses him. Gabbo spies her eventually and calls her over to his table. Well, he has Otto tell the waiter to send her a flower. Gabbo is also clearly nervous and excited to see Mary again, though he’s still such a grumpy cad that he can’t talk to her directly, but uses Otto. Mary and Otto have a little discussion, where the puppet tells her how much he missed her and Mary smiles in understanding. It’s time for Gabbo to go to his theater, and he offers Mary a ride there in his lovely chauffeured Royals Royce, the kind with the driver out in front exposed to the elements. Hmm...it seems that Mary is also performing at the same theater, but in a different show. Imagine the odds.
Gabbo goes to his dressing room and Mary to hers. Mary’s husband Frank spied them coming in together and angrily confronts her. He doesn’t like old flames popping up again and he accuses her of still caring for the old man. Mary just laughs off his worries and disarms him with her wit and charm. I’m impressed with Mary's spunkiness and independence. She doesn’t need this man, or any man for that matter, and will visit and talk to anyone she pleases. That’s refreshing, especially in a movie from this generation. By the way, Frank is played by 24-year old Donald Douglas, who would later go on to have numerous roles in movies both great and small (though the only thing I can remember him being in was 1946's Tokyo Rose). I'm not sure I like him, though he hasn't really done anything wrong yet. I think it's just his greasy floppish hair.
Backstage, we get the best scene in the movie, as Gabbo and his “dresser” have a personal moment. A dresser is one of those jobs that has disappeared with time, but it’s basically a male personal assistant. Gabbo is still giddy from meeting Mary again and he asks the dresser what he knows about love. The dresser, a middle-aged man in a butler’s uniform, has a wife and offers some advice. The two of them then lapse into German, their native tongue, as they talk. A few English words sprinkled here and there help those of us who don’t speak German, but I find the scene unique and probably indicative of the cultural identities of the movie-going public in 1929. At the end of the scene, Gabbo, being Gabbo, goes back to berating the dresser for shoddy work before storming out on stage to thunderous applause.
And now on to Gabbo's stage show, held in this opulent Broadway theater before throngs of cheering patrons. The simple chair and glasses from his off-Broadway days have been replaced by a gilded baroque Chesterfield chair and cut crystal Champaign goblets. The show itself is pretty good, with more of the same Otto-speaking-independently stuff and Gabbo faking charm and wit when you can tell that he really just wants to scream at everyone and send his Panzers across the Polish frontier.
Once his act is over, he goes back to his dressing room. There, to his pleasant surprise, he finds that Mary has slipped in and arranged his things just like the old days. Gabbo is ecstatic and is determined to not let her go this time. He'll tell her of his love the next chance he gets. Oh, I just know this isn't going to end well for him. Meanwhile, back on stage we have the showcase musical number of this film, the only one of the six or seven numbers worth mentioning. It has a weird insect theme, with a large spider web of rope set up behind the stage, with dancing girls dressed as bugs high-kicking in unison in the foreground. On the rope web are Mary and Frank, also dressed as spiders in skin-tight glittery costumes. I know, I know, it sounds like a gay burlesque show in South Beach, but it really is much better than it sounds. Mary and Frank come down to the stage eventually and do an extremely impressive dance routine. Mary proves herself to be as flexible as a 11-year old Korean gymnast, contorting and twisting her slim body in ways that you wouldn't think possible for a human being. Frank, for his part, lifts, twirls and dips Mary with graceful fluidity and some ripped bicep muscles. All in all, this number is worth the price of admission.
That over, Mary goes to see Gabbo in his dressing room. Gabbo and her have a very honest and personal discussion about their past and their future. Gabbo is now openly fawning over her, any reservations he once felt about expressing his love have now been replaced by the liberating feeling of delirious attraction. Oddly, it's Mary who begins to pull away the more they talk. It seems that her memories of Gabbo from years ago were better than the reality of him here in person. She just "wants to be friends". Ouch. Eventually, Mary leaves him and goes back to Frank. We see that they truly do love each other, despite this foolishly rekindled obsession Mary had for Gabbo. Anyone who has been married for any length of time can tell you that things like that happen from time to time, and it's a testament to Mary's moral character that she made the right choice.
Gabbo is beside himself with sorrow for having lost her again. The cruel stab of fate that led Mary back to him for a brief moment has only made the aching pain he's always had for her that much more intense. Gabbo is in full bore helpless impotent rage mode now, frothing and yelling like Guderan mired down before the gates of Moscow. Not even Otto is safe from his wrath now.
On stage, the finale goes on without him and Gabbo goes nuts. He storms out on stage, wading through the dancing girls to scream at the audience, "You don't know how to laugh! You don't know how to laugh!". Stage hands have to haul him off as people murmur and gasp. The manager fires him on the spot, despite all he has done for the theater. Gabbo dejectedly leaves, unceremoniously carrying Otto upside down by one foot. Mary tries to console him, but his mind is so far gone that he just looks right past her. The final scene is poor Gabbo, out in the street, looking forlornly as workmen remove his name from the marquee. Truly a sad end to a once-promising career.
All in all not a bad movie, even for a musical. The downcast ending was surprising, but well done. I’d recommend this one, if for nothing more than that cool 1920s flapper girls. The end.
Written in June 2007 by Nathan Decker.
Last, but certainly not the least horrible of these films....in fact it's pretty freakin' crappy:
Can't Stop the Music (1980) Directed by Nancy Walker Run Time: 124 minutes Tagline: The Musical Comedy Smash of the 80's! Back Story Early in the 1970's French pop composer Jacques Morali moved to the U.S. , where he fell in love with the dazzling Manhattan scene, and with disco music. One night at a gay costume ball held in Greenwich Village , he was struck by how many guests came dressed as macho male stereotypes. Thus came the inspiration for creating an all-male band where each member dressed like a different fantasy figure. Sending out a casting call for "macho types," he had soon assembled a 6-man group made up of a cop, a cowboy, a construction worker, an army soldier, a leatherman, and, of all things, an Indian chief. The resultant group was that inimitable 70's mix of kitsch and camp, "The Village People." Everyone thought he was crazy to try such a thing, but by 1979 he had written such chart-topping hits as "YMCA," "Macho Man," and "In the Navy" for his eye-popping pop group. Hollywood took notice, and came calling in the form of Allan Carr. Allan, who was riding high after the success of the movie "Grease," would later be responsible for the infamous Rob Lowe-Snow White duet of "Proud Mary" at the 61 st Academy Awards. ( Cue ominous music .) Well, before you know it Jacques and the boys were on a plane to California to film a lavish $10 million Hollywood version of The Village People's success! (Cue ominous music.) To be directed by Nancy Walker! – huh??? Yes, comedy actress Nancy Walker, famous for playing Rhoda's mother in the TV series "Rhoda," and (thanks Dennis, for reminding me!) "Rose the Waitress" in the "Quicker Picker Upper" paper towel commercials. (Cue ominous music.) Anyways, for Jacques & Co. it was a show business dream come true. And for gay audience members, like me, it was an exciting opportunity to get past the silences and snubs so often found in the movies. (Cue ominous music.) Let's take a look! The Movie Glittery, kitschy graphics, and the big sparkling name of Allan Carr announce the beginning of "Can't Stop the Music" just before we cut to the frantic interior of a Manhattan record store. Dressed in tight jeans and colored overalls, the hip, young clientele shake their happy booty as they thumb through the latest disco hits – one of which is playing over the loudspeakers. You can feel the excitement of America 's youth culture as our hero, spunky All-American boy next store Jack Morell (Steve Guttenberg) roller skates into view! Jack works here, and skating through the youthful hordes of desperate record shoppers he pleads with his nasty, middle-aged boss for the right to leave work on time. But his boss is middle-aged, meaning he's a bitter, grey haired "square," and he insists Jack stay late to do the inventory. "No inventory, no job!" he shouts, relishing the chance to crush the spirit of another happy young person – all of whom he evidently despises. ( Booooo! ) Pushed past the point of endurance, Jack displays vintage 70's, pre-Reagan worker chutzpah by plugging into the speaker system and screaming to the entire store: "OK, Schultzy, have it your way. But the next time you take inventory in here, you'll be carrying the albums of Jack Morell. ‘cause I am a composer, not a schlepper salesman! – My time is now!!!" And with this stirring declaration of emancipation, flung like a gauntlet into the face of American wage slavery, Jack roller skates out into the vibrant streets of New York to celebrate his unemployment. Cue the disco beat, and up come the titles! "New York is the city of cities! Now York is for wearing the crown!" crows the music as Jack careens through heavy traffic- smiling, laughing, singing, pumping his fists in time to the music – Jack is so maniacally happy at being in New York and following "his dream" that you want to punch him in the mouth. Not to worry, though, I'm sure he wouldn't feel it. The entire opening sequence is like a commercial for black market uppers. ( Gossip Note : A friend of mine once spent some time with a cast member from this movie. When asked by my friend about the experience, he replied that he couldn't remember a thing – because of all the drugs he was taking at the time. He went on to say it was the same for the entire cast.) The title sequence is also an early indication that the gay nature of The Village People will be swept under the rug. Hell, even the group itself is pretty much dispensed with. We get one shot of "David the Construction Worker," but no other member makes it onto the screen. Instead we get a veritable festival of female tits and ass, including 3 busty women with complimentary tank tops that spell "San" Fran" Cisco." By referring to that gay Mecca in this way, the crafty producers succeed in making a heterosexual allusion to homosexuality. Neat trick – and I'm already pissed off at the movie. The titles over with, Jack hooks up with his pal, just retired super-model Samantha Simpson (Valerie Perrine) down in groovy Washington Square. Still high on "life," he gushes on and on about his "big chance" to guest DJ at a disco that night. (Hidden Gay Reference Alert! - Jack will get his chance to DJ because the usual guy is "lost somewhere out on Fire Island." If you're in the know, and can understand Guttenberg's slurred delivery, you'll be able to arch a finely manicured eyebrow, pucker the mouth and smirk, "Oh ho!") Back at Samantha's fabulous plant-filled apartment, the pair finds "Felipe the Indian" (Felipe Rose) lounging in front of the TV. This gives Jack another chance to gush on and on about his big chance. And Felipe, being the kind of dreamer who goes around dressed in a feathered war-bonnet and cut-off jean mini-shorts, is excited. But practical Samantha is dubious about the wisdom of Jack's quitting his job.
Jack talks to anyone who will listen about his dreams of show biz success.
Samantha views Jack as a "kid brother," despite a clumsy pass he tosses at her. ( Phew . He's normal!) But trying to reason with him only makes him wave his arms around more. Worse, in a horrible attempt to imitate Mickey Rooney in those old "Let's Put On a Show!" musicals, he pleads so intensely that the veins in his throat bulge out uncomfortably. "Look, tonight Benny Murray will see that I'm merely fabulous and make me the full-time DJ," he screams, "I'll get to play my music. The people will start collapsing and the big record companies are going to come crawling!" For some reason Samantha is still unconvinced, so Jack makes a dread promise. If she "doesn't like what he does," he'll accept a fate worse than death, and "go back to dental school, like my father wants." Yea, right. You and I, and everyone else in the audience knows that should this come to pass he'd commit suicide before graduation. And thus the stakes are set for the big night. Pretty heavy. Fortunately we have some "comic relief" when Felipe comes in and tells Samantha that the hose she uses to water her indoor jungle is leaking all over the carpet, ha ha ha! Cut to "Saddle Tramps," the popular disco that Jack will guest DJ at. Once again we are "treated" to a scene of youthful high spirits as the blue jeaned, sequined, and polyestered crowd boogies down under the neon glow of randomly placed signs. Interestingly, the crowd is also completely heterosexual – and this seems to include Felipe, who works there as a dancing waiter, as well as "David the construction worker" (David Hodo) and "Randy the cowboy" (Randy Jones) – both of whom are getting it down with some lovely ladies. (Nothing against the lovely ladies, but ugh.) Up in the DJ's booth super perky Jack grows profound as he shows Samantha his "kingdom." Gazing out over the glitzy, yet drab dance floor and the tacky crowd, he gives voice to the movie's justification for disco, young people and, come to think of it, sex, "Look at them. They're so happy! They've forgotten everything that gets them down." Unfortunately, that's probably not what you'll feel as the movie launches into it's first extended "dance" number – 3 grueling minutes of flashing neon, tilted camera angles, and truly mediocre bump & grind moves on the dance floor. (In an infuriating aside, my research tells me that the producers marketed "Can't Stop the Music" as family entertainment. So while open references to homosexuality were apparently taboo, mimed heterosexual intercourse on a dance floor was perfectly acceptable.) Samantha is wowed by the uninspired disco tune, after all, Jack wrote it for her, and she promises to help launch his career. But first he needs to put together an awesome demo tape. This freaks out the once super confident Jack. "It's impossible! Look, nobody has time for anybody, and nobody gives new people a break." Jack seems to be bi-polar. No surprise I guess. But now it's Samantha's turn to play the optimist, and she boasts about how she's dated and "romanced" some of the "real biggies of the record industry." So the sky's the limit for our young hero! (By the way, eeeiiiiuuuuu !) You'd think we'd cut to Samantha turning on the charm for some of these biggies, but we don't. Instead we get the first of several cumbersome side plots as tough as nails New York glamour-puss Sydney Channing (Tammy Grimes) tries to badger Samantha back into modeling for a huge new campaign to push milk down the throats of an unsuspecting American public. "No, no, no!" answers Samantha, but Sydney is undeterred. Tossing back her purple mink stole she vows to bring Samantha back, and to make milk more glamorous than champagne by putting it in corked bottles! Ha, ha, ha! (Despite the dreadfully clichéd material, Grimes actually gives a real performance, and she's the most fun to watch in the movie.) Alas, Guttenberg is not fun to watch, as Jack tries to demonstrate a new song to Samantha by going "ba bah, ba bah, ba bah" and flailing his arms about. Suddenly realizing that his voice sucks, Samantha tells Jack that they need to round up some talented singers. But how? She needs to think, and plot and scheme. And so with a scary smile and glassy eyes she declares she's going out for a "Baskin-Robbins rush." "No Valerie, don't do it!" I want to yell. "The sugar and milk fat might have a toxic reaction when combined with whatever it is you've already ingested!" Ignoring my silent plea Samantha heads out onto the streets of Greenwich Village , ice-cream cone in hand. And in one awkwardly scripted and staged scene after another she talks an odd assortment of male "amateur singers" into doing Jack's demo tape for free. Thus The Village People are born! Sort of. 3 band members have yet to appear in the movie. ( Production Note : The whole time she's auditioning the guys on the streets of the Village, her never melting, never diminishing ice cream cone full of wholesome Baskin-Robbins ice cream stays firmly in hand. One can only imagine how many ice-cream cones they went thru as they did take after drugged out take. Maybe it's just my imagination, but Perrine seems to be holding her cone like she can't stand the loathsome thing. And just a thought here, but can you imagine what would happen if the production assistant in charge of ice cream accidentally scooped in strawberry instead of vanilla for one of the takes? The screaming that would come from poor Nancy Walker! In over her head, behind schedule and over budget she'd probably explode "God dammit! Who's the moron who put in the strawberry?" At which point the exhausted production assistant would begin to choke back the sobs as the rest of the panicked crew ran around in circles. All the while that uptight business suited rep from Baskin-Robbins, who flew in from someplace like Cincinnati , Ohio , would scowl while writing something down in his prissy little notebook. Finally a fresh cone of vanilla ice cream would be produced - but Valerie's wondered off again and no one can find her. God dammit!) Back on set, Valerie, as Samantha!, meets Dave (the construction worker.) And we come to one of this movie's many "highlights"- a weird, jaw-droppingly bad musical number and one of Hollywood 's greatest monuments to bad taste. Inspired by Samantha's pitch, Dave says he dreams of "fame, fortune, platinum records!" And you'd think this would lead to a fantasy about fame, fortune, and platinum records. But if so, you'd be confounded by the mad genius that is "Can't Stop the Music!" For what we get instead is a garish fever dream in which Dave is pursued and sexually devoured by a ravenous horde of skinny, large breasted women. "It's every boy's dream," he muses just before the music starts up! (Nothing against the ravenous horde, but ugh.)Watching Dave, who has a pair of handcuffs hanging from his weightlifter's belt, screech " I love you to death! " as the slinky femme-fatales bite his biceps and rip his shirt to shreds, I couldn't help but wonder what the hell the producers were thinking. This is what I a came up with: • Allan Carr & Co., dazzled by the cross-over success of The Village People – those cheerful ambassadors from New York 's infamous homosexual underground - plan a lavish Hollywood musical that's sure to be a hit! • Shrewdly limiting their own financial risk, Carr & Co. pry large amounts of money away from The American Dairy Association and Baskin-Robbins. In return they feature each corporation's product in what they promise will be a wholesome, family entertainment. • Dropping the gay identity of the group in order to avoid offending their sponsors, and the "heartland," they never-the-less scramble to attract Village People fans who are outside the sexual mainstream. • The brilliant solution? A bouncy, family-friendly fantasy of heterosexual S&M cannibalism!
"I Love You to Death!" After all of that excitement we go back to the streets for several bizarre and pointless scenes in which "kindly" old ladies abuse various co-stars, including hapless nice guy Ron White (painfully untalented Olympic superstar Bruce Jenner.)
Ron is from the mid-west, and this is his reaction to New York. Then it's back to Samantha's place where her horny friend Lulu (Marilyn Sokol) shamelessly ogles Felipe – thus reducing a complex human being into a 2-dimensional sex object. (Feminists rejoice, it's payback time!) Lulu is also responsible for the movie's first and only open reference to drug use when she offers Jack a joint! Coyly murmuring "Lulu," he never-the-less follows her into another room. Emerging later with blurred speech and vision, we all get a chance to laugh at a dope-head! (By the way, pot makes Jack a lot easier to take.) And as our happy, and in some cases lubricated, free-spirits prepare for the big demo taping, secondary characters start to rain down on Samantha's lovely patio garden like cases of Spam dropped from cargo planes into a disaster zone. First is hapless nice guy Ron. Turns out he's a tax lawyer just moved in from St. Louis , and he's here to give Samantha a cake from her sister. (Oh, brother.) Showing a brave commitment to hackneyed clichés, the movie presents Ron as an uptight, mid-western stick in the mud. Looking at the young, clean, attractive, but mildly bohemian crowd he sniff's "What is this, a halfway house?"
Samantha is having a little trouble focusing tonight. Next is another one of Samantha's many, many, many friends, with "Ray the Police Officer" (Ray Simpson) in tow. She heard him giving out a "singing parking ticket" and decided to drag him in for the demo recording. Why not? We even get to meet Jack's mother! (June Havoc, who deserves better.) She wears loud floral pants suits and dreams of the day Jack's music is produced on (now say it with hope in your heart and stars in your eyes!) "Broadway!" Finally, in comes Sydney Channing climbing over the garden wall in her relentless effort to tempt Samantha, and once she sees him, gorgeous looking Ron with big modeling contracts. Much "witty" bantering accompanies all of this, for example:
Ron: "Is there any reason he's dressed up as an Indian?" Samantha: "Maybe it's his (super scary smile) fantasy." Ron: Well, being a cowboy is my fantasy, but I don't go around dressed like one." Lulu: (Vamping it waaaaay up, ala Mae West) "Too bad, we could use another hand on this spread. Unnnaahh."
Imagine an entire movie written at this same level of sophisticated hilarity, and you have the horror that is "Can't Stop the Music!" Now we have about 500 lasagna munching people milling about the garden. And, finally, we get a Village People performance - sort of. That's because we still only have 4 of the 6 members present. Be that as it may Ray leads the boys in a rendition of "Magic Night." And I almost hate to admit it, but this number works. This song, like all the rest written by Jacques Morali, is sweet and fun and bubbly, Ray has a great voice, and the staging isn't drowned in kitsch and glitter. Oh, and a full disclosure – I confess to liking disco music, Godawful though much of it is. All I can do here is beg for the reader's understanding, and compassion. That and point out that Scientific American, at least I think it was Scientific American, ran an article recently about the discovery of a "disco gene." But back to business and the patio garden, where Ron suddenly storms out for no particular reason. "Your friends are a little too far out for me," he huffs at Samantha. "I don't get it why a good looking girl like you is down here in the Village with a bunch of….I don't know what!" Apparently Ron has never before socialized with casually dressed heterosexuals. Oh well, he is from St. Louis . (Interestingly, Ron does have cause for complaint. During the garden scene he's sexually harassed by an obnoxious Lulu, which is supposed to be funny. But he never mentions that.) Samantha responds by continuing the weird pretense that her garden lasagna party is a transgressive, taboo-shattering bacchanal. "I don't judge people. I accept them," she says, "There isn't a person who breathes who doesn't have certain peculiarities. As long as it doesn't hurt anybody, it's alright with me." This is a sentiment I heartily agree with, but what "peculiarities" are we talking about here? Homosexuality, of course. "But," you might say, "there aren't any homosexuals in her party, or the movie!" True, that's because they might offend the targeted mainstream audience. But still, "Can't Stop the Music" wants us to know that it bravely supports the rights of people it refuses to include in its script. Good for you Hollywood ! After the success of the demo, Samantha swallows her pride and makes an appointment with her ex-boyfriend, workaholic record mogul Steve Waits (the wonderful Paul Sand, who, poor thing, is also in this movie.) Much hilarity ensues when Samantha meets him because every time she tries to say something he leaps to answer one of the many phones in his office. This scene isn't very funny, but it is a poignant reminder of life in the pre-cell phone world, where Steve's behavior was considered extraordinary. Happily Samantha manages to get a commitment from him, so yea! And then whom do you think she meets in the lobby? Yes! It' Ron. First they fight, then they flirt, then he spills hot lasagna on his pants, then his pants come off, then they…..I think you get the picture. (A running gag thru this whole sequence is that Ron, though played by an Olympic champion, is a total klutz. Ha ha ha!) Cut to Ron's huge, million-dollar wood paneled office on Wall Street, which he's kindly volunteered for auditioning more members of Jack's slowly, slowly coalescing money-making machine. And it's a laugh riot as a motley crew of flamboyantly awful sideshow acts invades the stuffy sanctity of the "Establishment." Chinese baton twirlers vie for space with clowns, tennis racquet jugglers, singing bodybuilders, and girlish heavy metal rockers who literally chew the telephone cords of Ron's prim old maid of a secretary. So this is an audition for singers? Yes, because New York isn't dullsville, man! Oh, and Samantha's dressed up like a flight attendant. Well, as you can imagine all of this doesn't sit well with Ron's grumpy old boss, who walks in with (drum-roll) Ron's mother! (The lovely Barbara Rush – who was great in "When Worlds Collide" and "It Came From Outer Space!") This movie's strange, but admirable, habit of dragging in people's mothers pays off when Mrs. Ron, seeing the collection of show business freaks infesting her son's office says, "Didn't Village types go out with the 60's?" And voila, the " The Village People" are born!!! (At last!) And to cap it all off "Glenn the Leatherman" busts in on everyone, "by mistake" (oh brother) and sings a pretty decent rendition of "Danny Boy." It's the only time the movie implies, implies mind you, that one of the Village People might, I say might , be gay. I think the reason is that Danny's full-on S&M leather regalia defies the kind of half-assed explanation given for the goofy outfits of the other men. Ron must really love "Danny Boy," because when boss-man complains about the ruckus, he quits! I'm beginning to suspect that Ron, like Jack, is bi-polar. And as if to mirror Ron's disturbed psychology, a man in glittering gold shorts suddenly jumps on top of a table. Accompanied by a prissy little piano score he spins & twirls a pair of "flaming" batons and sets off the sprinklers – causing everyone to rush for the exits. (Ha ha ha!) Cut to the streets of, you got it, Greenwich Village , with the entire gang walking about in tight late-70's street fashion. Ron in particular has loosened up to an extraordinary degree as he prances down the street in a mid-drift exposing T-shirt and short short jeans. It doesn't really make any sense, but I'm not complaining. Anyway, everyone's unemployed, and broke, but with hearts full of hope they find a free place to rehearse –the YMCA! Cue the music for their big mega-hit, and a beefcake smorgasbord down at the weight room, swimming pool, locker room and showers! For once it's an all-male show, except when Samantha crashes the hot tub – the tramp! And it's all a lot of tacky fun, even if it's bargain basement Leni Riefenstahl. (Or - is it tacky fun because it's bargain basement Leni Reifenstahl? Cue Twilight Zone music.)
News Flash! 70's sportswear did not flatter the male figure. Almost immediately after that, however, we go into the band's first studio recording. It's a disco anthem called "Liberation," and it's a catastrophe. Here are some of the lyrics:
Liberation – it's time for liberation, (right now!) Out of our way because we're ready to fly (liberation!) And for this right we stand here willing to die (liberation!)
Strong words, and thrilling if you were coming out of the closet in the wake of the Stonewall riots. But just look how the song is staged in the movie! It comes with fist pumping choreography, provided by Lulu (!?), but the camera makes a point to show how half-hearted the boys are as they sing it. I mean "liberation" for whom, and from what? They don't get it, and neither will the audience. It's all a boring, empty cheat. Anyways, we're soon back to more excruciating "drama" as Steve Waits tries to sign the band up on the cheap. "They have a very small audience," he reasons. (What audience would that be?) And there's more excruciating "comedy" as 4 of our (heterosexual) protagonists scheme to get The Village People onto the charts. (By the way, none of band members themselves are present.) Sample dialogue:
Jack: "You guys remember Benny Murray who used to run Saddle Tramps? (Samantha's friend) Alicia: "Sure, who could forget Benny the letch! Ron: "We ran into him this morning." Alicia: "What were you doing? "Cruising" down Times Square ?
Oh, my aching sides! Anyways, seems Benny is now producing dance parties. So perky Jack & manic Ron get the bright idea of producing one of their own to launch Jack's band. And to fund this kick-off Samantha decides to bite the bullet and do Sydney 's milk campaign. With, and here's the catch, The Village People as her back up! Yea! It's another wholesome yet kinky treat! And well, it's something, that's for sure. It's starts out with Samantha playing a suburban housewife in a "Leave it to Beaver" kitchen. In come 6 little Village People boys, in costume, to get their glasses of milk. As she pours out a glass the beat starts to throb over the soundtrack, and we cut to a huge black and white balloon covered stage set. Now all grown up, The Village People, Samantha, and (sigh) lots of lovely dancing girls - all of them dressed in glittering white - strut their stuff behind gauzy white curtains, up shinny black staircases, and in front of giant, blinking milkshake glasses. All the while Ray sings his heart out to the immortal lyrics,
Do the shake (do the shake), do the sha-a-ake (do the shake) Do the milkshake, the milkshake (do the shake) Do the shake (do the shake), do the shake (do the shake) Do the milkshake, the milkshake (do the shake) After the number ends in a huge balloon drop over the dancers, we see Samantha, Jack, Ron, Lulu, Ron's mother and Jack's mother all assembled in Sydney's Hollywood fantasy of an office. Noticeably absent are the Village People themselves. I guess Sydney & Co. don't want to socialize with the help. Anyways, they're all excited after watching a tape of the "milk commercial" and nice Mrs. Morell crows about how talented her son is. What mother wouldn't? But all is not as well as it seems, for another heart breaking obstacle to Jack's future wealth is about to rear it's ugly head.
Sydney explains, "The higher echelon of Madison Avenue feels that (the commercial) may be too controversial for their American family image." Jack's Mother, "Corporate thinking sucks." Jack (shocked) "Mother!" Poor Jack! Fortunately Ron's mother, an elegant cliché of a society matron comes to the rescue. It's explained to her that the gang was hoping to use the residuals from the milk commercial to produce a spectacular "pay party" to launch Jack career's as a song writer. Only, neither Samantha nor Ron is willing to tap into their personal assets. So what to do? Why, it turns out that Ron's mother, as a hobby, regularly stages huge charity fundraisers. Even better, she's doing "a really grand affair next month in San Francisco ." (Get it? San Francisco . Nudge, nudge, wink, wink!) Would it be possible for the boys to sing a few songs? - Was Stalin a communist? Everyone's all energized again, and Jack, who's wearing a really loud checked sports jacket, starts jumping up and down - the darling, greedy little boy! Samantha, meanwhile, gets on the phone and tempts Steve Waits with a "long weekend in San Francisco ." But here we run into a problem, for super cool Ron has suddenly turned all up tight again. He's already offended that Samantha, who wore a dress that was sexy, but which could have appeared in a 1950's MGM musical, revealed too much of herself on television. (In fact, her "performance" is far less steamy then Cyd Charisse's dazzling "bad girl" turns in "Singing in the Rain" and "The Bandwagon.") And now he's shocked that she's trying to seduce Steve into a deal. Samantha in turn is shocked that Ron would think this of her, and a very painful breakup scene ensues. Painful, that is, because we have to watch Bruce Jenner try to express "anger" (puffed out cheeks) and "indignation" (bugged out eyes.) Cut to Steve in his hideously decorated private jet. He's in a bath robe waiting for Samantha's arrival, so I guess he had the same idea that Ron had. But he's in for a surprise, because who should show up instead? Why it's Jack, and his mother! Stunned into inaction, the plane takes off before Steve can throw them out, and off they go to San Francisco . All the while Jack's mother, who's turning into a really pushy stage-mother, badgers Steve about her son's talent and pulls out a big shopping bag full of edible Jewish goodies. This provides a chance for some character development in Jack. He helpfully explains that mom isn't Jewish, but dad is…..OK. So? But then his mother says, "When it comes to eating, all mothers are Jewish." Interesting point. And wouldn't that also mean that when eating every child is Jewish too? Which in turn would mean that everyone in the world is Jewish, at least when eating? One more bizarre cul-de-sac out of the way, Mrs. Jack starts hammering away at Steve on album contract details. Fade to several hours later when, the ruthless battle for profit rights over and won, mother and son relax and gaze dreamily into a future filled with luxury and glamour. But lest you think they're vulgarians, Jack suddenly pulls back a curtain window to look at the approaching city of San Francisco . "Oh look Ma, look how beautiful." he gushes. Awww , Jack has a soul! And as if to celebrate this fact a thumping disco beat starts to rings out over the land as Mrs. Jack sighs, "Oh Jack, it is true. There is magic in the world." - What, you mean like selling your soul to Satan in exchange for worldly success? (Sorry, that was a bit harsh.) Fade to the big night where a 3 sister diva act called The Richie Family warms up the already hyperventilating crowd while The Village People are practically crowded out of their own dressing room by an avalanche of supporting characters. Let's see, there's Ron, and Lulu. Then Samantha's friend Alicia breathlessly observes, "You are not going to believe this crowd. San Francisco high life is one of the kinkiest things I ever saw!" Nudge, nudge, wink, wink! Then in breezes Ron's mom, who introduces the women from her never specified charity committee to Lulu, and then to the boys – who are, shockingly, only half dressed! "Don't mind us," says one leering matron, "we understand show folk here." Nudge nudge, wink wink! Now it's Sydney's turn to storm in before she gushes to Ron's mother, "I've never seen such a huge turn-out. And so bizarre! Chic!” (I think that's a nice way of saying “So perverted! So Fey!") Next, in rushes Jack and his mom, waving the signed contracts with Steve's record company. The band members cheer, and promptly run out of the room. This clears the way for more business with Ron's mom, the Charity Ladies, Sydney, etc. Then in walks a new character, powerhouse TV journalist Claudia Walters (Leigh Taylor Young, who's even more zoned out than Valerie!). She's on her way to interview the boys, but before she gets to them her producer steers her toward record mogul Steve. She asks for "personal" background and he makes a smarmy pass at her. Incredibly, it works and she walks off with him for a "private interview!" Eeeeiiiuuuu. (I think we just caught a glimpse of the real Hollywood here. Eeeeiiiuuu .) After that sleezy little detour in comes Samantha, ending everyone's tepid suspense over her whereabouts. Jack rushes over and we have more jumping and hugging over the signed record contracts. And oh my, there's Ron's old boss from that stuffy Wall St. law firm. Scenting money he walks over to Ron and welcomes him back to the firm -as a junior partner!! But Ron's still pissed off at Samantha, and so we have to sit through a big reconciliation scene where he comes around and proposes a big San Francisco wedding to her. Awwwwww. Our next dramatic climax is a "Lulu," and it comes from Lulu! (rim-shot.) I didn't mention it earlier, but Lulu is Sydney 's secretary, and the running gag here is that Sydney is always giving her ridiculous orders. Well, Lulu is mad as hell, and she's not going to take it any more! Feeling empowered as the Village People's number one roadie, she gets her big scene when she finally tells Sydney to shut up. You go girl! And something that occurred to me back at the start has just been confirmed. Lulu is a loud, flamboyant person with a touch of the ugly duckling. Meaning, she doesn't quite fit in. She's oppressed at work. And she's also constantly cruising men, as well as stealing line readings from Mae West. Poor, dear thing, she's meant to be a stand-in for all the oppressed, flamboyant queens out in the audience, who it was hoped, would stand up and cheer when she told off her boss.….Halleluiah! Finally, most of the important speaking parts depart the room, leaving Jack alone with those guys who sing his songs. And as the sound of applause for the closing warm-up act roars around in the background they all form a circle of hands to prepare themselves for the big event. Slowly the camera closes up on Jack. And though he doesn't sing or dance, have any creative vision, or remember the names of the guys in the band, he gets a misty look in his eyes and sighs triumphantly, "We're a group!" And then there's a big number where the Village People perform on stage. The End.
Post Mortem Despite a lavish budget and lots of huge production numbers, some of them bouncy, kitschy fun, "Can't Stop the Music" is dead on arrival. Among the reasons for this are the clunky direction by inexperienced Nancy Walker, a script full of cardboard characters and unfunny jokes, and "acting" that lurches from glassy eyed spaciness (Valerie Perrine) to manic woodenness (Bruce Jenner). But the movie's primary failure is that while it's a story about the formation and success of The Village People, the band members themselves are only passive, accommodating pawns in Jack's quest for wealth and fame. They therefore hold no dramatic interest whatsoever. And what about Jack? Why should we care about his dreams of success? He's supposed to be a charming everyman whose pursuit of the "American Dream" has us all routing for him. But the part's just a lazy collection of bland clichés, and as played by Guttenberg, Jack's a hyperactive little package of saccharine. Finally, since the producers were afraid to acknowledge the gay inspiration for the group, Jack has no creative vision. All that's left is a vulgar scramble for lots of money. So despite the constant implications that issues of social tolerance and justice are involved, there's absolutely no dramatic punch to the band's success in the movie. For a straight viewer I'd imagine the whole thing is one big, weird, glitzy yawn. And for a gay man, watching this movie is like not being invited to a party thrown in your honor.
(Sean Ledden June 2007)
Let's hear it for the boys! |
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1) It reminds me of all the things I hated about growing up in the 80's: bad hair, bad music, bad clothes, and the whole "Hey! It's the 80's and aren't we just soooooo freaking happy about it!" attitude that still makes me want to curl into the fetal position and groan. 
198-x. Oh gee, and a quick cut to the shower head reveals it to be one of those cheesy "message" shower heads that everybody had back in the 80's. You remember, the kind that you could rotate a ring around the head and the water would vary from stream to 'massage'. And yes, Jon and Randy have theirs set to the 'massage' setting for an added bit of cheese.
