MOVIE RECOMMENDATIONS - APRIL 2022

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU (1994) 

A kind-hearted New York City police officer (Nicolas Cage) shares his $4 million lottery winnings with a down-on-her-luck waitress (Bridget Fonda), despite the objections of his money-obsessed wife (Rosie Perez). The police officer and waitress begin a friendship that blossoms into something more.  

A potentially poisonous overdose of schmaltz is averted by the beguiling chemistry between Cage and the underrated Fonda. Cage’s character is as close as he ever got to playing Clark Kent. Rosie Perez gives a terrific Rosie Perez performance playing a character I imagine Rosie Perez would play. Director Andrew Bergman (co-writer of the much more acerbic Blazing Saddles) shows off a deft touch, balancing comedy with character-first moments. A rare romantic comedy that isn’t really about romance, but about people. That makes it stand above the rest. 

STREAMING: HBO Max 

THE OUT OF TOWNERS (1970) 

An Ohio sales executive (Jack Lemmon) travels to New York City with his wife (Sandy Dennis). What they think will be a pleasant getaway to the big city, turns into a succession of nightmare scenarios as everything and everything goes wrong during their trip. 

A rare Neil Simon script written expressly for the screen. Not close to the level of The Goodbye Girl but enough good laughs justify it for existence. Though the story becomes repetitive and Simon fails to create new conflicts to diversify the ongoings, it’s always a hoot to watch Lemmon loose his cool in high pressure predicaments. An on-brand quirky performance from Dennis is equally enjoyable. Worth a watch for the views of 70s NYC alone. If you like Planes, Trains and Automobiles, this once’s cut from similar cloth (albeit, less high quality cloth). 

AVAILABLE TO RENT: Amazon Prime 

ALICE DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE (1974)  

After the sudden death of her husband, Alice (Ellen Burstyn) hits the road with her bratty son (Alfred Lutter III) to pursue her lifelong dream of becoming a singer. Along the way, she falls first for a violent, small town adulterer (Harvey Keitel) and then a divorced local rancher (Kris Kristofferson), who tries to win her jaded heart. Eventually, Alice winds up among the colorful characters at Mel’s Diner. 

Scorsese shows his skillful hand extends beyond gangsters, F-bombs, and shine boxes. Burstyn’s Oscar winning performance perfectly balances the jocular with the tragic. Kristofferson shows he was much more than the guy who trained Blade to hunt vampires, and Keitel casts a savage shadow. Scorsese’s best themes concern the ruinous pursuit of the American Dream. He removes this theme from his usual canvas, the mean streets, and spreads it across the dusty Southwest roads and small towns of this film. The result is the most underrated and relatable of Scorsese flicks. 

STREAMING: HBO Max

PENNIES FROM HEAVEN (1981)

During the Great Depression, a sheet music salesman (Steve Martin) cheats on his repressed wife (Jessica Harper) with a mild-mannered schoolteacher (Bernadette Peters), while escaping reality through the music he loves. In fantasy sequences, characters lip synch to popular songs of the 1920s-1930s and live out dance numbers reminiscent of era musical films. 

One of the most original movies I’ve ever seen. So unique that words cannot properly capture it. Dennis Potter’s brilliant script sets up expectations that then spin into a wildly dark arena, subversively countering both your presumptions and the genre it is homaging. Layering the naive innocence of the 20s/30s pop songs against the harsh cruelty of the Great Depression is an inspired and enormously effective juxtaposition. A serious Steve Martin is nearly as good as a funny one, being likable amidst dislikable behavior. Peters’ devolution from mousy schoolmarm to dirty trollop is honest, mesmerizing, and devastating. Harper draws humor and pity from sexual repression. But when Christopher Walken kicks up his heels in a spellbinding dance number, he steals the show. 

STREAMING: HBO Max

FREE WILLY 2: THE ADVENTURE HOME (1995)  

After an oil spill traps Willy the whale and his family in a cove, Jesse (Jason James Richter) and his friends and family, including long lost half-brother Elvis (Francis Capra), race against time to rescue the whales. 

One of two movies I was not allowed to watch as a kid (the other: Batman Returns). And I’m not sure why. Though not as effective as its predecessor, the film manages to rise about kid movie junk by continuing to parallel the familial struggles of Jesse and his aquatic pal. The last chance to see (most) of the original cast together again, including Michael Madsen (who I continue to forget is in these movies). Companionable and breezy, The Adventure Home is a perfect dose of nostalgia for those in need of some.  

STREAMING: HBO Max 

-T.Z. 

BOOK RECOMMENDATIONS - APRIL 2022 - (MOVIE/SHOWBIZ BOOKS)

 Mosey on over to the film/TV section at your local Barnes & Noble and be deluged by the plethora of biographies, reference books, and histories. Deciding where to begin might seem like a daunting task. But never fear dear readers! I’ve read many of them for you and compiled a list of some favorites that I’m recommending. A few are newer selections, others have been out for several years.

THE COMEDIANS: DRUNKS, THIEVES, SCOUNDRELS AND THE HISTORY OF AMERICAN COMEDY (2015) by Kliph Nesteroff

Here’s one hell of a fun read. Kliph Nesteroff was a stand-up comedian himself before becoming the premiere historian on American comedy. Armed with interviews conducted with over 200 comedians— the well known, the unknown, and the never known —- and copious research from old Variety trade papers, Nesteroff gifts us a highly entertaining, relaxed, and straightforward account of comedy and showbiz, as told by the comedians themselves. 

Structured in chronological order, the book begins in vaudeville then traces comedy’s progression across radio, nightclubs, Las Vegas, comedy clubs, sitcoms and the New Millennium. Engrossing showbiz stories abound on page after page, many completely unheard of until Nesteroff unearthed them. Anecdotes range from the heartbreaking (the unexpected death of Harry Einstein, father of Albert Brooks and Bob Einstein, which occurred live on radio); to the horrific (mobsters savagely mutilating comedian Joe E. Lewis); to the humorous (Milton Berle’s ginormous schlong). Open to any chapter of The Comedians and absolutely loose yourself in the wonderful tales of classic show business.   

PICTURES AT A REVOLUTION: FIVE MOVIES AND THE BIRTH OF NEW HOLLYWOOD (2008) by Mark Harris 

This is one of the best books I’ve ever read. From the pen of former Entertainment Weekly columnist and editor Mark Harris, this tome is essential reading for any movie buff. Pictures at a Revolution explores the making of the five nominees for the Best Picture Academy Award in 1968 — Bonnie and Clyde, In the Heat of the Night, The Graduate, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, and Doctor Dolittle. The book masterfully traces the development, casting, production, and tribulations of each project. Harris adroitly weaves in and out, deftly stitching every strand into a captivating tapestry. 

With the skill of a superior novelist, Harris brilliantly places these films into the larger context of American society at the time. In the late 1960s, seismic social and cultural upheavals throughout the country were reflected in an equally transmutative time in Hollywood. While the old studio system was still churning out escapist musicals and frivolous Doris Day flicks, audiences turned to the more socially relevant films being imported from France. The French films of Godard and Truffaut better captured the essence of the moment with more truth than the pablum produced in Hollywood. The country had changed and so too did its tastes— and old Hollywood was not prepared for the cinematic revolution that came pounding on their studio gates. Harris powerfully captures this tectonic clash between the old guard of Hollywood and the young upstarts (Warren Barren, Dustin Hoffman, Mike Nichols, and many others) who would become the new generation of New Hollywood. 

This is an absolutely enthralling piece of work that I can’t recommend highly enough. 

THE JAWS LOG (1975; Expanded Edition, 2005) by Carl Gottlieb

Richard Dreyfuss initially turned down Jaws because he knew that “it’s going to be a bitch to shoot”. How right he was. Between the deleterious effects of filming on the ocean, to the many technical problems, to the studio’s lack of confidence in the young director (some guy named Spielberg), the production of Jaws was a nightmare. The term “the shark is not working” has nearly entered pop culture ubiquity as much as “you’re gonna need a bigger boat” has. Likely, you’ve heard these true legends secondhand. 

The Jaws Log is a first-hand account of the events from a man who not only co-wrote the screenplay, but who was on-hand for it all. Gottlieb was a comedy writer, tapped to add humor to the Jaws screenplay and ended up staying on set for the entire shoot, reworking scenes on the fly. Gottlieb’s book, published originally the same year the film was released, provides a vivid recounting of everything and anything that went horribly, horribly wrong. The Expanded Edition, celebrating the book and film’s 30th anniversaries, adds much appreciated bonus footnotes, providing additional hindsights and postmortems. Gottlieb’s book is a vital (and often hilarious) account of a troublesome production that yielded one of the greatest films ever. 

UNIVERSAL STUDIOS MONSTERS: A LEGACY OF HORROR (2021) by Michael Mallory 

This is the second post I’ve made recommending this book because I love it so much. Due to the beautiful black & white photography and the elegant way in which the book is put together, Universal Studios Monsters could unjustly be relegated to the stack of other glossy hardcovers on your coffee table. But it’s too good for that fate. Michael Mallory has written one of the best reference books I’ve ever read. It covers everything from Bela Lugosi to The Invisible Man’s Revenge to the founding of Universal Studios. A mix of summary, history, and analysis, I learned a lot about one of my favorite subjects and is a must-read for monster fans. 

RAISED EYEBROWS: MY YEARS INSIDE GROUCHO’S HOUSE (2015) by Steve Stoliar 

The better a book is, the faster I finish it. I read all of Raised Eyebrows in a single day. It was one of the most fascinating page-turners; a book I quite literally couldn’t tear myself away from. 

Author Steve Stoliar had an experience that every Marx Brothers fan (myself included)  would kill for: while a student at UCLA, Stoliar became an archivist and personal secretary to comedian Groucho Marx himself. This was a tough time in Groucho’s life. While he experienced a latter day surge in popularity thanks to younger generations discovering his films, a series of strokes blunted his once razor-sharp wit and left him increasingly frail. Complicating matters was his tumultuous relationship with a much younger woman named Erin Fleming, a controversial and complicated figure for Marx fans. Some praised her for renewing public interest in Groucho, boosting the elderly man’s ego, and reviving his popularity. Others saw her as a manipulator, who leeched off his fame, while allegedly abusing him physically and mentally. This culminated with a high profile legal showdown between Fleming and Groucho’s children over his conservatorship.  

Dancing in and around the Fleming drama are much happier stories about Stoliar’s growing relationship with the man he idolized, the colorful house-staff populating Groucho’s home, and the many visits from old friends like George Burns, Jack Benny, Mae West, and Elliot Gould. I particularly liked reading about Groucho’s dinners with his two surviving brothers, the much-less written about Zeppo and Gummo. And Stoliar was there for it all inside Groucho’s house, witnesses both Groucho’s deterioration and the remaining sparks of his legendary wit. Raised Eyebrows is not a trash-bag tell-all but a loving and bittersweet tribute by Stoliar, who loved and adored Groucho — as many of us still do. 

-T.Z. 

REVIEW OF "THE ABBOTT AND COSTELLO SHOW - SEASON 1" BLU-RAY

Though it ran for only two seasons, from 1952 to 1954, The Abbott and Costello Show is frequently cited as one of the best and most influential comedy series in history. Jerry Seinfeld credits the show, which emphasized laughs over emotions, as a primary influence on his own legendary sitcom. And now, thanks to ClassicFlix, the 3-D Archive, and the Library of Congress, The Abbott and Costello Show - Season 1 has received an extraordinary restoration, available to own on Blu-ray.  

I’m a lifelong Abbott and Costello nut. From childhood onward, I watched and rewatched all of their iconic films like Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein, Hold That Ghost, Hit the Ice, and Buck Privates. I was much less aware of their television series, which never reran on TV (in my little world, at least). I eventually tracked a few DVDs that compiled only select episodes. But this new Blu-ray restoration makes all previous releases look like cave drawings.  

After seven decades of misuse and improper care, The Abbott and Costello Show’s original film materials were nearing a point of damage beyond saving. Archivist Bob Furmanek and his team at 3-D Archives took the original 35 mm film negatives and scanned them into 4K resolution. They digitally cleaned away dirt and damage on every single frame of the 120,000 feet of film, creating a crystal clear final product. This painstaking process was much more than a labor of love; this was a rescue mission. Furmanek and his team’s meticulous and laborious work have saved Bud & Lou’s TV series for future generations to enjoy in the best possible quality. The boys haven’t looked and sounded (thanks to the remastered audio) so good in 70 years. 

Bud Abbott and Lou Costello had hugely successful careers in burlesque and radio before becoming the highest-paid entertainers during World War II. Between 1940 and 1956, Bud & Lou made 36 films, mostly for Universal Pictures. Following successful stints as hosts of The Colgate Comedy Hour, the boys began work on their own syndicate half-hour television series. It was an opportunity to both control their own content and preserve for posterity their versions of classic bits. As a result, The Abbott and Costello Show is a mind-blowing and superlatively vital record of classic burlesque routines. Along with “Who’s on First”, other renowned bits like “Mustard”, “Packing/Unpacking”, “The Moving Candle”, and “Niagara Falls” are all immortalized thanks to this series.

While their movies had to balance musical numbers, young romantic couples, and plot, the series eschews all of that in favor of straightforward, unadulterated comedy. There are no story arcs, no character development or even continuity from one episode to the next. If a scenario, premise, or gag is funny, it was included with no thought to logic or reality. Because of this, The Abbott and Costello Show remains one of the most bizarre and surreal live action television series in American history.

The show ostensibly follows the peculiar misadventures of two unemployed actors named Bud Abbott and Lou Costello (played, of course, by Abbott and Costello). Each episode begins with Bud & Lou telling the audience at home what the episode is going to be about. Premises can be anything from throwing a birthday party for Lou’s overly cultured girlfriend (played by Hillary Brooke), to raising a chimpanzee named Bingo as their son. In one episode, Lou mistakes “ant paste” for “antipasto” and nearly poisons all his party guests. In another, the word “meatball” sends Lou into violent paroxysms. I like the one where Bud has Lou committed to a psych ward because Costello can’t sleep. 

Joining Bud & Lou are a loose cadre of characters, whose roles and relationships to the title stars vary depending on the plot. In addition to Hillary and Bingo the Chimp, there’s Mr. Fields, their short-tempered, chrome-domed landlord (played by the real Sidney Fields, who also scripted 21 episodes of the series); Lou’s nemesis, bratty man-child Stinky (played by Joe Besser); the boys’ brainless comedic foil, Mike the Cop (played by Gordon Jones); and Mr. Bacciagalupe (played by Joe Kirk), an Italian immigrant caricature that is as far from politically correct as Patterson, New Jersey is from the Andromeda galaxy. In addition to the aforementioned, a bevy of nameless neighborhood oddballs harass, assault, and dupe Bud & Lou. 

The show’s carefree approach to continuity becomes manifest with Mr. Bacciagapule, whose profession ranges from fruit peddler to restauranteur to salesman, all depending on what the scenario dictates. Likewise, the real Sidney Fields often dons flimsy mustaches, toupees, and glasses in order to play relatives of the fictional Mr. Fields. But no character in heaven nor hell epitomizes the surreal like Stinky. Then 45 year old Joe Besser played the loud-mouthed 6 six-year-old, decked out in a Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit, short pants, and wide brim hat. In 1952, it was hilarious; today, it’s unsettling to watch an overweight, bald man lick on lollipops and cry for mommy when Bud & Lou don’t want to play with him. 

Modern audiences might assume Besser was taking a jab at individuals on the autistic spectrum.  But no, that was his character, his persona, and his schtick. He played Stinky-like characters on radio and television before. After Shemp Howard suddenly died of a massive heart attack, Columbia Pictures slotted Besser to take Shemp’s place in the Three Stooges. If you haven’t seen the “Joe” Stooges shorts, let me assure you that Shemp was the lucky one. 

As for the Blu-ray, the series has never looked or sounded better. The picture quality is flawless and eerily clear; the sound is pristine and crisp. Among the exciting bonus features is the option to listen to original “laugh-free” audio tracks on select episodes. The Abbott and Costello Show was not filmed in front of a live studio audience. Instead, completed episodes were screened for small studio audiences and their recorded reactions became the laugh track. This is the first time fans can listen to these tracks. 

Rounding out the bonus features are an all-too brief featurette about the search for the original negatives, a smattering of trailers, and my favorite feature on any DVD/Blu-ray, audio commentaries. Several Abbott and Costello experts/aficionados provide highly informative (though slightly repetitive) commentaries on 10 episodes. While I was grateful to learn some new information about the series and Bud & Lou, casual viewers might find these commentaries a tad dry (though definitely check out Gilbert Gottfried’s, where he tells of his childhood fear of Stinky). 

This amazing Blu-ray release is an essential addition to any Abbott and Costello fan’s home video library, as well as any fan of comedy. To those who have never seen Bud & Lou, there is no better place to start. Join Hillary Brooke, Mr. Fields (and his many cousins and relations), Mike the Cop, Bingo, Mr. Bacciagalupe , and even Stinky, and fall in love with the comedy of Bud Abbott and Lou Costello in its purest, clearest and most undiluted form.  

-T.Z. 

OBSCURITIES FROM THE DISNEY VAULT #4OF4: "DAVY CROCKETT AND THE RIVER PIRATES", OR THE BABY YODA OF THE 50S

By Taylor Zaccario 

From the moment Baby Yoda first appeared on TV screens, consumers across the globe went scrambling to get their mitts on any kind of merchandise with the little green guy’s face slapped on it. This was not the first time a Disney connected TV series sent viewers into a buying-frenzy. In the 50s, a similar craze spread across the country (and in the UK). That time it didn’t center around an infant alien, iPhone covers, and Emojis. That time it was all about coonskin caps, bubble gum, and a ballad about a man born on a mountaintop in Tennessee. 

Between December 15, 1954, and February 23, 1955, Walt Disney’s ABC anthology series aired three episodes of a miniseries about real-life folk hero Davy Crockett. Starring Fess Parker as the legendary frontiersman and Buddy Ebsen as his fictional best friend, George Russell, the series unexpectedly set off a shopping craze. 

Kids across the USA wanted Davy Crockett apparel, most iconically the coonskin cap Crockett wore in the series, but also T-shirts, books, and toys. The show’s theme song (a genuine ear worm), “The Ballad of Davy Crockett”, stayed atop the Hit Parade for 16 weeks, and three different covers of the tune charted highly in Billboard magazine. The so-called “Crockett craze” even spread to the UK. It’s reported that Disney made $300 million off the merchandizing alone. (In typical House of Mouse style, Fess Parker was screwed out of the profits). 

The popularity of the three episodes was so unforeseen that Walt regretted killing off his coonskin-capped cash cow at the end of episode 3. Remember the Alamo? Walt certainly did. Ever the pragmatist, Disney devised ways to keep the money-ball rolling. First he produced two prequel episodes of Davy Crockett, airing on November 16, 1955, and December 14, 1955, respectively. Then he had the 5 episodes edited into two separate feature length films. 

The first three episodes formed the basis of Davy Crockett: King of the Wild Frontier, debuting in theaters on May 25, 1955. The prequel episodes were strung together into Davy Crockett and the River Pirates, rowing onto movie screens on July 18, 1956. In those far off days before endless reruns, home video, and streaming, (and because of the Crockett craze’s extraordinary popularity), audiences didn’t mind paying for something they watched at home for free. There was also an added bonus: In the home, Davy Crockett was seen in black-and-white; in the movie theatre, the compilation films were in Technicolor. 

No surprise that the stories in each film vary a great deal from historical fact. And, yes, the reductive treatment of Native Americans and the use of redface for white actors is outdated, unfortunate, and icky. In that way, the films are not so much an accurate depiction of frontier realism as they are a spyglass trained on the insensitive American norms of the 50s. Personally, I believe you can both acknowledge something as inappropriate and problematic, while still finding other elements that are enjoyable. 

Both movies were frequent guests of my VHS player. Though the first film is the better, growing up I always had a soft spot for the more fun prequel, Davy Crockett and the River Pirates. In it, Crockett and Russell are forced into a keelboat race down the Ohio River against another folk hero from American Frontier history/legend, Mike Fink, played by the wonderfully over the top Jeff Yorke. (I distinctly remember being in the 4th grade when we learned about famous American folk heroes and being the only kid who knew Mike Fink — no one else saw Davy Crockett and the River Pirates.) 

Though it lacks King of the Wild Frontier's pathos, River Pirates is less episodic and more unified in its storytelling, creating a straightforward, highly entertaining adventure story. Breathtaking cinematography, filmed on location in Cave-In-Rock, Illinois, and the chance to watch Parker and Ebsen rub shoulders with talents like Yorke and the inimitable Walter Catlett, make this a more than enjoyable (and quick, only 92 minutes) watch. I also challenge anyone to not come away humming a song called “Yaller Gold.”

So the next time you feel stupid for buying those Baby Yoda undies, just remember that someone once purchased a fake dead raccoon to wear on their head. 

OBSCURITIES FROM THE DISNEY VAULT #3: "SNOWBALL EXPRESS", OR DO YOU WANNA BUILD A SKI LODGE?

by Taylor Zaccario 

I always thought I’d rather have nitroglycerin dribbled into my corneas than watch a movie called Snowball Express. When I finally decided to check it out, I anticipated an experience similar to having bamboo slivers rammed between my fingernails. Miraculously, that was not the case. 

Perhaps my mood was colored by the first flakes of a January blizzard falling outside my window, but I actually enjoyed Snowball Express from 1972, a slapstick comedy about one man’s mission to start up a ski lodge. The film is part of a genre created by Disney; a sort of cinematic movement, not inspired by the French New Wave, but by the unexpected success of The Shaggy Dog (1959). That movie told the “classic” tale of a teenager’s transformation into a sheepdog via a magic ring. It set the mold for a series of movies the Disney Empire began churning out during the sixties and early seventies. 

The films were made using the same facile ingredients: Take one All-American. Add some disruption to his life. Said disruption can be A) a supernatural/fantastical/scientific force,  B) an unwanted, troublesome animal (dog, cat, horse, duck), or C) a preternatural object (sentiment Volkswagen, flying rubber). Add a few laughs aimed for the kids. Keep budgets low. Stir and serve. 

From this recipe came “films” like The Million Dollar Duck (1971) and The Ugly Dachshund. (1966). It’s easy to dismiss these movies as the abysmal trash they seem to be. But take them for what there were intended to be: not nuanced portrayals of middle-class life in the mid-twentieth century, but silly entrainment for kids to chuckle at. And don’t totally swat away the formula. While the aforementioned films have dwindled in the public consciousness, the recipe did yield a few films that have remained classics or near classics, such as The Love Bug (1966), The Absent-Minded Professor (1961), and That Darn Cat! (1965).

Snowball Express comes toward the end of what Leonard Maltin terms the “Disney gimmick comedies”, but features one of the movement’s more prolific actors. While you might not know Dean Jones’s name, if you grew up in the 90s, you most certainly know him as the evil animal doctor from Beethoven (1992). The role was a conscious reversal of Jones’s Average Schmoe persona that he personified during his many films with Disney. A talented stage actor, Jones originated roles on Broadway in Under the Yum-Yum Tree and in Stephen Sondheim’s Company. Even in the worst film dreck, Jones was the diamond bobbing amongst the flotsam. 

While most of the other gimmick comedies are too firmly steeped in the time period they were conceived, Snowball Express has a surprisingly modern aura, from the performances, to the color-processing, and most importantly, the humor. The set-up is pure situational comedy, so much so that I’m surprised no network series spun-off from it. 

Jones plays an unhappy corporate accountant who inherits the Grand Imperial Hotel in Silver Lake, Colorado. Jones and his family move out, expecting to dive into the hotel’s pool of money like a flock of Scrooge McDucks. Turns out, the Grand Imperial Hotel ain’t Grand, ain't’ Imperial, and ain’t no hotel. It’s a ramshackle inn, dilapidated into a nesting box for raccoons, bats, and other varmints. Rather than just torch the joint and phone up his insurance company, Jones makes the only other logical decision: he’s going to turn the rat-trap into a ski lodge. 

In the more infantile Disney gimmick comedies, mostly kids find amusement in the cartoonish behaviors of human beings and concomitant outlandish premises. While Snowball Express is certainly not grounded in any sort of reality, it’s a much more palatable premise. (In Million Dollar Duck, a radiated duck eats homemade apple sauce and starts laying golden eggs.) Amazingly, Snowball Express posses an adroit balance of wholesome laughs and adult insinuations to maintain even the attention of persons who have stopped teething. 

Kids (and some kids-at-heart too) will enjoy the ski-related pratfalls and the family’s dog (ironically, a St. Bernard). There’s enough terrific cinematography of Colorado’s white blanketed mountain peaks, and a few very subtle moments of sexual innuendos to keep adults amused. A fairly well executed climax involving a snowmobile race might not be Mad Max: Fury Road, but is as funny (if not funnier) and more amusing than anything of this genre. 

Movie buffs will also feel more than satiated by a plethora of deliciously talented character actors like Dick Van Patten (Spaceballs), Mary Wickes (Sister Act), and George Linsday (The Andy Griffith Show); and Disney stalwarts like Nancy Olson (Pollyanna), Keenan Wynn (The Absent-Minded Professor, Herbie Rides Again) and Michael McGreevey (The Computer Who Wore Tennis Shoes). But it’s Harry Morgan (TV’s MASH) who nearly steals the entire film from everyone by playing a cantankerous Mr. Fixit-turned-bellhop. 

Snowball Express is no more a cinematic treasure than a Whopper Jr with cheese is a benchmark of fine dining. But sometimes it’s nice to take a break from the beef bourguignon and chow down on some fast food. Said metaphor applies to the Disney gimmick comedies.

I’m genuinely surprised that Disney didn’t remake the film in the 90s with Chevy Chase or in the 2000s with either Eddie Murphy or Tim Allen. The lightweight material and ample opportunity for slapstick was not too dissimilar from the vehicles they did appear in. Perhaps it’s all for the best though. While Dean Jones’s Snowball Express is good movie-junk-food, Chevy Chase’s may have been nitroglycerin in the eyes. 

OBSCURITIES FROM THE DISNEY VAULT #2: "THE MOON-SPINNERS", OR DIET HITCHCOCK JR.

by Taylor Zaccario 

Remember that Disney movie? The one with the woman who owned a pet cheetah? 

Well, here it is. Another artifact excavated from the nether regions of the Disney Vault, available on Disney+. A Hitchcock-esque adventure-thriller for the teenybopper generation. The Moon-Spinners featured one of Walt’s most popular finds: actress Hayley Mills. 

Mills made her screen debut at age 12 in the film Tiger Bay, featuring alongside her father, Sir John Mills. The elder Mills starred in the Disney production of Swiss Family Robinson (1960). Disney chose the younger Mills to play the title role in Pollyanna (1960), for which she earned a special Juvenile Oscar Award. Mills would go on to star in 5 more Disney-produced films. Arguably, her most famous part — well, parts — were as two identical sisters in the original The Parent Trap (1961).

By 1964, Mills was now 18. Unlike many child stars making the transition into adulthood, she got the opportunity to play a character her own age in Disney’s adaptation of Mary Stewart’s novel, The Moon-Spinners. Mills plays Nikky Ferris, a young tourist traveling through Crete. She meets a dashing young Englishman named Mark Camford (Patrick McEnery), whose been framed for a jewel robbery in London. Mark came to the island to locate the stolen jewels and expose the real thief (Eli Wallach). Romance, double-crosses, mistaken identifies, spying, sleuthing, gunfire and a boat chase all ensue, culminating aboard the yacht of a millionairess (Pola Negri) who, yes, owns a pet cheetah. 

Silent screen legend Pola Negri makes her final film appearance. The script called for Negri’s character to own a pet cat. She recommended the cheetah.

This family friendly adventure has shades of a Nancy Drew mystery but also genuine menace. Wallach plays the unhinged jewel thief with such unnerving conviction that you forget he’s acting in a 60s Disney movie, an era which featured such lightweight entries as The Absent-Minded Professor and The Computer Who Wore Tennis Shoes. Wallach’s character is certainly no lightweight bad guy. He shoots Mark in the shoulder, threatens to murder his own nephew, locks Nikky up in a windmill, and returns later with a rifle, presumably to finish her off. (The scene in which Nikky escapes the windmill, by jumping out of the tower’s window onto the twirling rotor blades, is surprisingly effective.) 

The Moon-Spinners has all the elements of an Alfred Hitchcock story but is certainly not a Hitchcock film. Few are. However, it is a completely entertaining movie on its own level. Beautiful cinematography of Crete and Hayley Mills’s effervescent performance make this a fun way to spend two hours of your life. 

Mills would go on to star in one more film for Disney, That Darn Cat! While she continues to work in movies and television, it’s her six for Walt that she remains most remembered for. There is no better time to revisit these. Mills 

always brought a believable optimism to the roles she played. She made you feel that things will be okay in the end, despite the hardships. Even for a deep-rooted cynic like myself, I can’t watch Mills and not have a little of that optimism rub off onto me. 

Come for Hayley Mills, stay for the pet cheetah.  

Starring: Hayley Mills, Patrick McEnery, Eli Wallach, Joan Greenwood and Pola Negri. Written by Michael Dyne. Based on the book by Mary Stewart. Produced by Ron Miller, Walt Disney. Directed by James Neilson 

PS — here’s all the 6 (feature) Disney films that starred Mills: Pollyanna (1960), The Parent Trap (1961), In Search of the Castaways (1962), Summer Magic (1963), The Moon-Spinners (1964) , and That Darn Cat! (1965).

                                     

OBSCURITIES FROM THE DISNEY VAULT #1: "THE RELUCTANT DRAGON", OR CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM: THE WALT DISNEY CUT

by Taylor Zaccario 

49 years before Larry David awkwardly prowled the L.A. streets on Curb Your Enthusiasm, Walt Disney produced his own version of one man’s uncomfortable sojourn from one faux pas to another: The Reluctant Dragon. You’d find this movie buried deep within the section of the Disney vault labeled “Forgotten Oddities.” Unremembered by the general people of Earth and a sought-after curio for deranged Disney fanatics, this oddball movie is available to all on Disney+. 

Not quite a documentary and not exactly a feature film, when released in 1941, audiences were left unimpressed. Today, the movie is a tailored-made time capsule for Disney addicts, taking viewers on a (completely scripted) behind-the-scenes tour of the then brand-new Disney Studios in Burbank, California.  

Your tour guide is humorist-writer-actor Robert Benchley (grandfather of Jaws author Peter Benchley). Benchley, much like Larry David on Curb, plays a fictionalized version of himself. He arrives at the real Disney Studios, hoping to convince Walt that Kenneth Grahame’s children’s book, The Reluctant Dragon, would make a swell animated movie. Once inside the gates, Benchley wanders from department to department, searching for Walt and getting a firsthand look at how animated films of the time were brought to life: 

He stumbles onto a life drawing class, where artists are sketching an elephant for the then-upcoming Dumbo (released a few months later). 

He witnesses a voice recording session featuring Clarence Nash and Florence Gill, voices of Donald Duck and Clara Cluck, respectively. 

In the ink-and-paint department, Benchley learns how color is added to animation cells for Bambi (to be released the following year). 

All the while, Benchley behaves like a complete jackass. 

My favorite sequence takes place in the story department, where a group of writers pitch Benchley their idea for a new cartoon short called Baby Weems. The cartoon is presented as a series of storyboards rather than a complete animation (this is nowadays called limited animation). It’s wholly original, smartly written, and precocious without being cloying. 

Eventually, Benchley finds Walt (played by Walt) in the protection room where Mr. Disney and the boys invite him to watch their latest cartoon short: The Reluctant Dragon. 

The last 20 minutes of the film are devoted to the animated adaptation of Grahame’s classic. The cartoon itself anticipates the kinds of animated shorts that would typify Disney’s so-called “package films” made during World War II. The short is perfectly good, but not particularly memorable (the same can be said for the Goofy cartoon, How to Ride a Horse, which Benchley also gets a private viewing of). With the exception of Baby Weems, the animated segments are not the draw; it’s the live-action ones that will entrance curious Disney devotees with behind the scenes access to the studio. 

It’s impossible to adequately classify this movie. You can’t really call it a mockumentary. So much of the film is real: this is the real Disney Burbank studios; those people in the background are real studio employees; you are really learning the different stages of a traditional animation process. But it's also not an honest depiction of the truth, either. As mentioned, the entire film is completely staged and scripted, almost like a recruitment video. The main “employees” that Benchley interacts with are actors playing employees, such as future movie star Alan Ladd and actress Frances Gifford. 

Certainly fictionalized is the upbeat, unified mood on the studio lot. Going by the movie, you’d assume all these cheery employees are having such a jolly holiday working for Mr. Disney. Unfortunately, that’s all baloney. The Reluctant Dragon was released at the same time that Disney’s animators went on strike. Real-life Disney employees were decrying the company’s low wages, unfair treatment, and lack of recognition for their contributions. Strikers even picketed The Reluctant Dragon premiere. 

While that’s certainly a bummer, don’t treat the film as fact nor fiction. It exists in a bizarre purgatory that only hardcore Mouseketeers should dare venture into. Treat The Reluctant Dragon as a time machine that takes you back to a place that sort of existed but never truly was. 

Cue the Curb theme.   

NOTE: Disney+ plays one of those viewer discretion warnings before the film begins. Remember, 1941 is not 2022 (hopefully).  Moments of stereotyping or racial insensitivity are much, much slighter than in many more popular Disney films of the era. Some are probably completely unnoticeable by modern viewers. You’ll survive, but here’s your warning anyways.