A 50's melodrama and superhero hodgepodge

RAT PFINK A BOO BOO (1966)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

In what is clearly an even funnier title than Ray Dennis Steckler's most infamous film, "The Incredible Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies," "Rat Pfink a Boo Boo" has got to be the most ridiculous piece of trash ever recorded on celluloid. It is so amateurishly and shoddily made that you would swear it was a parody, but the director has insisted that that was not the case from the get go.

The first few scenes have a 50's cheap melodrama vibe where we witness an anonymous woman being pursued by three thieves out for a thrill. One of the thieves carries a chain, another carries a hammer, and another gives a wicked, nonstop laugh. They kill the girl, take her purse, and that is about it. So far, it is silly but it has some measure of momentum (though the perky musical score doesn't help matters). Then we are shown what looks like documentary footage of a rock singer named Lonnie Lord's (Vin Saxon) who signs autographs and carries a guitar with him wherever he goes, in the hopes of playing for anybody, anywhere, at anytime. This includes barbecues where the chef wears an Oscar Myer apron! And on the beach where a full band seems to perform when he sings, yet nobody is around for the instrumentation we hear on the soundtrack (the whole film was post-dubbed and it shows).

Moving along to the bare minimum of a story, Lonnie's girlfriend CB Beaumont (Carolyn Brandt) is being harassed on the phone by someone who calls three times, asks for her name, and then hangs up. Who is it? It turns out it is one of those hooligans from the opening sequence who is looking for a thrill and searches her name randomly in a phone book! In the next scene, she is kidnapped by those hooligans! They hopefully had a stop in between at the Korova Milkbar.

Before things can get any worse, Lonnie and his girlfriend's gardener partner team up and dress up in costume as Rat Phink and Boo Boo, a carbon copy of Batman and Robin! I am serious! Apparently, director Steckler didn't like the first 40 minutes of footage he shot, which was supposed to be a gritty crime film, so he chose to make it into a superhero film! Ouch! And we also get a Harold Lloyd lookalike and a gorilla named Kogar played by Kogar! We also hear songs like "You Is a Rat Fink" (my favorite) "Runnin' Wild," "I Stand Alone," and "Go Go Party," which are the the only semi-dazzling highlights.

It isn't that the film is bad as much as it has nothing to offer. At least Steckler's first film, "The Incredible Strange Creatures, etc." had a nervous energy and real style. This film looks to have been made by eight-year-olds in their own backyard! Maybe that was the point but there are funnier bad movies than this one.

Random shootings in San Francisco

THE SNIPER (1952)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Aside from two murders committed by a mentally unbalanced man with a handy rifle, "The Sniper" is largely a white bread thriller - meaning that it is soft and fluffy and it tries to be a polemic but fails to ignite or cause much of a stir.

Eddie Miller (Arthur Franz) is a loner, living in a San Francisco boarding house and working as a cleaner delivery man. He is trying to work through his murderous impulses which includes unpacking an army rifle with a scope and aiming at pedestrians from his bedroom window. His homicidal urges are brought on by loose women who sing in bars or appear to be prostituting themselves, that is making themselves available to any man after being dumped. It is implied, through some ludicrously histrionic acting, that he rejects such women so he has to kill them (he turns away in disgust when seeing a kissing couple on a bench). Marie Windsor is a bar pianist who likes Miller because he delivers her clean dresses and will make last-minute deliveries for her - however, she has no romantic interest in him which obviously anger him.

50 percent of "The Sniper" centers on Miller rejected, bullied and scolded by society - he can't even make young kids playing ball happy when he tosses the ball back to them. This is a man who can't catch a break and can't make time with his vacationing therapist. Miller is a ball of fury and hate and takes it out on women, not men or children. One particularly effective scene has Miller throwing a baseball at a circus performer where she falls in a small pool if he hits his target - after he keeps hitting the target, he starts throwing the baseball at the net with such uncontrollable fury that you will recoil. If only the movie had more moments like that.

But the film veers off course to provide insight into why Miller kills - big mistake. "The Sniper" was released in 1952 and so we are still dealing with Hays Code implemented pictures where random acts of violence must be explicated by a serviceable police psychiatrist (Richard Kiley) and an older police detective, Lt. Kafka (Adolphe Menjou), who wants to solve this case or else he will be back on the beat. So much time is devoted to these characters that you feel you are watching a high-profile episode of "Dragnet."

After all is said and done, "The Sniper" lacks grit and purpose. Arthur Franz may overdo the psychotic trauma of this ex-soldier so much that you wonder why nobody suspects him from the start (his crying fits strike the wrong chord of sympathy). It is a pristine B picture, often well-mounted by director Edward Dmytryk ("The Caine Mutiny"), but the screenplay loses focus, aiming for preachiness rather than an amoral lurid melodrama that would have given it a pulpy punch. I wanted to learn more about Miller's impulses, his behavior towards women - in the end, we are told that the police thinks the sniper might be a registered sex offender. Seems like Miller has bigger issues beyond sex.

Groucho Marx reading from cue cards

SKIDOO (1968)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When you have a top-notch director like Otto Preminger and a great, able comic cast that includes Jackie Gleason, Groucho Marx and Carol Channing, you should expect fireworks. You expect at least a good comedy with a few laughs. You don't expect a haphazard effrontery to the comedy genre like "Skidoo," which seems to be two different movies running at once. It is a train wreck, and just as unwatchable.

The movie begins with a shot of a TV set where two different channels being switched back and forth - one is some live courtroom trial and the other is some John Wayne movie. Jackie Gleason is a retired mobster (do they get to retire?) and Carol Channing is the peroxide, free-loving wife, and they keep switching channels with their remotes. And this scene goes on for an eternity. And there is the flower-child daughter who is dating a hippie. And we get a cliched body-painting scene (though it is far more egregious in "The Swinger"). Finally, we are back to the flimsy plot which has Gleason going to Alcatraz so he can bump off his best friend, also a mobster and a snitch (Mickey Rooney).

Added to this strange amalgam of genres is Groucho Marx as a mob boss named "God"; Frankie Avalon as a mobster who runs into these hippies; Frank Gorshin as some inmate at Alcatraz; a makeshift hot-air balloon; and nothing short of three psychedelic LSD montages (one in slow-motion), including the Green Bay Packers playing football with their bare asses showing!

"Skidoo" is so flatly directed and staged that it becomes unbearable to sit through, no matter how absurd is the notion of hippies and gangsters in the same movie. Still, even if it doesn't gel, the very absurdity of it all could have wrung some laughs. Aside from the opening title theme song sung by Channing at the end, there are no laughs and not one moment that made me remotely chuckle. The late director Preminger claimed that since he had done LSD, he could make the movie. Well, he made something that can be called anything but a movie. It is a monumental disaster. You know it is a bad movie when Groucho Marx seems to be reading from cue cards.

Hiding Out in Welles' masks

MR. ARKADIN (1955)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Orson Welles had never been lucky when it came to making films. After "Ctizen Kane," Welles had his films taken away from him, usually resulting in drastic re-editing and destroyed footage. "Magnificent Ambersons" is certainly proof of this, and so is "Mr. Arkadin," a film project that took four years to make. When it was finally released, it barely resembled the original product.

The story deals with a certain Mr. Arkadin (Orson Welles), a wealthy tycoon who is suffering from amnesia. He is found by a Guy Van Stratten (Robert Arden), a con-man hired by Arkadin to do a confidential report. The report is to be on Arkadin, who has no memory of what has happened to him in the last twenty years since establishing his fortune. Van Stratten has been looking for Arkadin since hearing his name and his association with fortune from a dying man's last breath (his partner in crime, Mily played by Patricia Medina). He finds Arkadin through his daughter, Raina (Paola Mori), and they fall in love ever so briefly until he meets Arkadin at a masquerade. Once Van Stratten begins his search for Arkadin's secrets, he finds a past involving a white girl slavery ring, a former Professor who has a flea circus, and a Jakob Zouk (Akim Tamiroff) who knows more than he lets on aware that his knowledge of Arkadin puts him in harm's way. In a desperate search for truth to possibly blackmail the millionaire, Van Stratten travels from Paris to Spain and at every stop, Arkadin miraculously appears along with his personal secretaries and his spy network. Is Arkadin only pretending he has amnesia or is he trying to clear his name for his daughter's sake and for the undergoing intelligence check by the United States Army?

"Mr. Arkadin" bears all the trademarks of Welles's style. We have the shadowy, low-angle shots, the frenetic editing giving way to moments where time slows down, the overlapping of sounds and so on. Unfortunately, the English version I have seen of "Mr. Arkadin" (reportedly, four different versions exist) has been butchered badly - clear evidence of tampering and lack of the necessary budget to complete the film. Some shots are bleached out and others have asynchronous sound which is quite distracting. Supposedly Welles had wanted the film to be structured as flashbacks with Van Stratten telling his story of Arkadin to Jacob Zouk, but that version was abandoned in favor of something more linear (similar film butchery occurred with "Touch of Evil"). This version, however, makes little sense and sometimes the sound is so inaudible that it is difficult to grasp what is happening.

Robert Arden's performance has been criticized as lacking any wit or style but I do not think he was meant to be shown as more clever or charismatic than he is. Arden finds the right tone of disgruntled allure - a man every bit as corrupt as Arkadin (he even lets his girlfriend, Mily, meet with Arkadin alone!) It is Mori (Welles''s wife at the time) who is a complete bore to watch - there is little grace or mystery in the character which one can attribute to the script. Welles himself uses grandiloquent speech patterns to hide the true self from Arkadin, but there is little or no trace of humanity in the character. Welles looks great and does a fine job of showing how he covers up his past indiscretions and deceits by literally wearing masks. Still, it is not enough to disguise the fact that the character is a cipher, and some of Welles's mannered gestures and body language might seem more appropriate in a play, not a film. Some films work even when dealing with a cipher, a man with no past (like Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name from those spaghetti westerns) but some degree of an intriguing personality or behavioral aspects are needed to make up for it. Welles does a bang-up makeup job, and that is about it.

"Mr. Arkadin" succeeds as a curio, and for Welles's fans, it is worthwhile viewing. To the rest of us, it is one of those losses, post-"Citizen Kane," that gives scant evidence of Welles's genius behind and in front of the camera.

Vegas' cool factor

OCEAN'S ELEVEN (1960)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Though it is dated in every respect, "Ocean's Eleven" is an entertaining, relaxing film, probably the most relaxed film ever to depict a heist and its aftermath. But what distinguishes it from most similar pictures is its cast and its setting of a Las Vegas that no longer exists.

This classic 1960 picture directed by Lewis Milestone has all the famous Rat Pack members in their first major picture as a group. Frank Sinatra plays the debonair Danny Ocean who organizes all his buddies (all ex-military) to perform one daring, improbable heist - to rob five Las Vegas casinos at the same time. The plan is foolproof. All it takes is some preparation and expert timing, particularly when involving a certain blackout of an entire city.

One does not go to movies like "Ocean's Eleven" for anything more than dazzling entertainment. Dazzling is not what I would call it but certainly classy and clever are better descriptions. The major pleasure is seeing Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., Peter Lawford and Joey Bishop performing together as they conspire, bicker, drink and croon. As for the latter, two major highlights involve singing. One is the title track "Ee-O-Eleven" sung by Sammy Davis, Jr. and the other is Dean Martin rocking on with "Ain't that a kick in the head." These scenes are simply there as in-jokes, in a sense, since the Rat Pack was performing in Vegas at the time while making this film (look closely at the final shot of the film for direct proof of this). Sammy's rendition of "Ee-O-Eleven" is sublime because the lyrics refer to the joys of being rich - "Someday I'll have me a chauffeur, and a block long limosine."

Robbing these casinos will make them rich but there is always a glitch, as usual. Lawford's character's future stepfather (Cesar Romero) has connections with the police in town and other sources and has the resources to find out who committed these robberies. It only takes the harmless comments made by Lawford's character's mother to spill the beans since Romero proves unsuccessful at finding any connections to any outfit.

Some of the dialogue sparkles like fine old wine and sometimes it smacks of raw vinegar. One of the greatest character actors of all time, Akim Tamiroff (who plays the master planner behind the casino heists), delivers the coup de resistance line after hearing that his crew might be dead - "The Los Angeles County Morgue!" You have to watch Tamiroff to see how priceless the scene is. But the occasional clunker creeps in. Example: "Our marriage got drowned in champagne," as said by Angie Dickinson in a throwaway role as Danny Ocean's ex-wife.

"Ocean's Eleven" is sparkling, classy entertainment that feels long because of how much time is invested in the gathering of the crew, the planning of the robbery and the final outcome resulting in a hysterical, morose ending that will leave you in a mild state of shock. Actually, this is a film about the Rat Pack in all respects, showing their attitude, their clothes and their debonair qualities. And of course, with the exception of Sinatra, their singing.

Big Trouble in Red China

THE CHAIRMAN aka THE MOST DANGEROUS MAN IN THE WORLD (1969)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Often engrossing and captivating, J. Lee Thompson's "The Chairman" is also a comic-book film about spies but done with whip-smart dialogue and fine acting that help elevate it from any number of anonymous 1960's spy pictures post-James Bond.

Gregory Peck is Dr. Hathaway, a Nobel Prize scientist who is sent by the U.S. government on a difficult mission to China. The mission: pretend to be a defector and find an unfinished formula for an agricultural enzyme that allows wheat crops to grow during any type of climate. If Dr. Hathaway fails to find the formula from another scientist and former associate of Hathaway's, Dr. Siong Li (Keye Luke), then, well, why reveal too much here. Let's say that the reliable U S of A has implanted a chip in Hathaway's skull that is more than a listening device.

Interestingly, "The Chairman" builds its suspense slowly rather than on extended chase sequences. Most riveting is an encounter the good American doctor has with Mao Tse Tung (Conrad Yama) - the controversial chairman of Communist China is not depicted as a one-dimensional cartoon but rather as a human being trying to come to terms with American diplomacy. The star of the film is really the titanic presence of Gregory Peck, who is credible and believable from one scene to the next. He makes us believe that he is the only one who can handle this dangerous mission, and makes us believe he might also fail.
Most riveting in "The Chairman" is the depiction of peasants in Red China, all holding Mao's Little Red Books. The opening title sequence is explosive, thanks to bullseye editing by Richard Best and overpowering music by Jerry Goldsmith, that depicts Mao's China with striking shots of the people overlapped with portraits of Mao. The rest of the film is essentially a chase picture with Peck trying to steal the formula while evading the Red Army, meanwhile there is that issue with the listening device...

"The Chairman" is practically old-fashioned entertainment, dependent on dialogue and wit than on special-effects. The intense climax, which includes a wounded Peck trying to squeeze himself under a wire charged with 10,000 volts, has got to be seen to be believed. You won't believe a minute of it, but it doesn't mean it won't thrill you.

Wandering amnesiac in New York

MISTER BUDDWING (1966)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

If there is one kind of story I love, it is the tale of the wandering amnesiac. Though hardly the best example of it, "Mister Buddwing" is a solid tale of anxiety and helplessness, at least for 3/4 of the way through.

James Garner, in a rare and dramatic performance, is walking around Central Park in New York, unaware of who he is or where he comes from. The first shot of the film shows his point of view, which is deliberate skewed as he tries to focus on the New York City skyline and eventually looks at his hands. He carries a ring with an inscription that reads "From GV." He also has a phone number and calls it, not knowing who will answer. Someone named Gloria (Angela Lansbury) has the number, and Mr. Anonymous arrives at her residence. She doesn't know him and he certainly doesn't recognize her, so you could say the plot thickens. He gives himself the name Sam Buddwing, due to a Budweiser truck and an airplane he spots. Nothing of his past or any memories are triggered until he sees a woman (Katharine Ross) sitting on a bench. Could she be the elusive Grace, his wife?

"Mister Buddwing" develops efficiently with an effortless, driving rhythm - you want to see where Mister Buddwing is going and where he will end up. The city of New York has been used in many films but, here, it has the nightmarish, black-and-white power of noir pictures like "The Naked City" or even one set in London, the fantastic "Night and the City." The city seems mysterious and in certain shots overlooking a bridge or on city streets, even desolate and frightening. Director Delbert Mann ("Marty") and cinematographer Ellsworth Fredericks really capture the intensity and emotional emptiness of a city that could care less if you are amnesiac. A handful of hand-held camera shots (a cliche in this day and age) and the documentary feel of city life, especially when Buddwing has a headache and seems to ready to fall on the pavement, are wonderfully captured. There are exquisitely handled scenes in cafes and hotels that are done with remarkable restraint, again imploring us to find out little clues about Buddwing.

Unfortunately, by the time we find out what is really going on with Buddwing and discover his true identity, we feel cheated. I wouldn't dream of giving it away but it is less than revealing and somehow negates the buildup that we have invested in for almost an hour and a half. It is not a bad finish, but it is an anticlimactic one.

As I have mentioned, "Mister Buddwing" belongs in the tradition of my favorite kind of stories - a man searching for his identity. What is great about such a story, especially one involving an amnesiac, is that the filmmakers can exploit this idea and pursue it in any manner they wish. We learn he may be a music composer and we do know his wife is named Grace, or do we. Those kind of unclear questions and search for identity could've gone in any direction, and by the time we get to a backroom alley of poker with Jean Simmons as a true floozie, we begin to wonder what strange, hypnotic walk we are gazing upon. The movie is terrific and Garner is in fine form, as is Katharine Ross, Suzanne Pleshette and Jean Simmons. But such a strange, fun ride to the dark side could've benefitted from a truly climactic finish instead of the one we are saddled with. See it, but try to forget the ending.