Bad Movie Theatre: Jerry Lewis Pays a "Visit to a Small Planet"

This review isn't about Charo and
The Concorde...Airport '79.

I originally intended to review The Concorde...Airport '79 in this column. I actually watched that debacle because of its notoriety as an awful movie. After all, Roger Ebert included it in his book I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie (he doesn't review the film, but addresses one incredulous scene). However, I ultimately decided that the makers of The Concorde must have made a bad movie on purpose. I mean, I like Charo, but when you film a scene of her smuggling a chihuahua aboard an airplane--well, it's obvious that you knew what you were doing. We don't pander to the makers of bad movies at the Cafe, so that's all the press we'll devote to The Concorde... Airport '79 (for reviews of Airport 1975 and Airport '77, click here.)

I apologize for the digression. Let us shift our attention to Visit to a Small Planet. It's also a bad movie, but clearly not intended as such. Acclaimed playwright and author Gore Vidal, who penned The Best Man (a favorite), originally wrote Visit to a Small Planet in 1955 for the Goodyear Television Playhouse. He adapted it for Broadway in 1957, where it ran for almost a year. Cyril Ritchard--best known as Captain Hook opposite Mary Martin's Peter Pan--directed and starred as an alien being who visits Earth. The play earned three Tony nominations: Ritchard for Best Actor in a Play; Eddie Mayehoff for Best Featured Actor in a Play; and Best Scenic Design.

Lewis on the ceiling.

When Paramount decided to mount a film version in 1960, it naturally wanted to cast an established star in the lead. According to a 2012 article for Film Threat, David Niven, Alec Guinness, and Danny Kaye (my pick!) were considered for the role of Kreton the alien. Any of them would have been a better choice than Jerry Lewis--who got the part. Of course, to put things in historical perspective, Lewis was a reliable box-office star in the 1950s and early 1960s. His casting surely seemed like a good idea at the time.

Alas, my friends, I can attest to the fact that the combination of Gore Vidal and Jerry Lewis does not make for a funny movie. Nor even a good one. Of course, one can't really blame Mr. Vidal. I haven't seen the television or Broadway versions of Visit to a Small Planet, but I suspect they featured more social satire than what finally made it to the silver screen.

Kreton mugging in school.

Jerry Lewis plays Kreton as a child-like alien from Planet X47 with an infatuation with the Earth. Ignoring his teacher Delton (John Williams), Kreton sneaks off to visit his favorite planet during the time of the U.S. Civil War. However, he miscalculates by 99 years and lands near Richmond, Virginia, in the year 1960. He first reveals his identity to Major Roger Putnam Spelding (Fred Clark), a TV commentator who recently proclaimed: "Flying saucers--there ain't no such animal." Pretty soon, though, Spelding's whole family knows that Kreton is an alien being, including Roger's daughter Ellen (Joan Blackman) and her goofy boyfriend Conrad (Earl Holliman).

Delton soon tracks down Kreton, but decides to let the younger alien study the Earthings for a short period. However, he cautions Kreton not to "get involved." Naturally, Kreton ignores that advice and, after misinterpreting Joan's kindly actions toward him, he decides that he's in love for the first time (incidentally, love does not exist on X47).

The over-used right ear tug.

From the opening scene, Lewis appears to have no confidence in the screenplay. He resorts to over-the-top mugging whenever a visual gag falls flat. Yes, I realize that mugging was always part of Lewis' shtick, but there's an air of desperation in Visit to a Small Planet. It eventually grows tiresome watching Jerry issue commands by tugging his right ear and flaring his nostrils.The one scene with genuine possibilities--Kreton's visit to a beatnik club called The Hungry Brain--starts out well (seeing Kreton in his spacesuit, a groovy patron observes: "Who laid the threads on you?"). Unfortunately, it segues into a musical number that drones on for too long and deflates any sense of fun.

Blackman, Lewis, and Holliman.

Lewis can't be faulted for everything. Joan Blackman is a dull female lead and Earl Holliman grates as a country bumpkin with a pet goat named Myrtle. Even veteran comedians like Fred Clark and Gale Gordon are incapable of finding a way to salvage the humorless proceedings.

I must admit that I had fond memories of watching Visit to a Small Planet as a youth. Honestly, I thought I was a more discerning film buff even back then. Perhaps, the movie still holds some appeal for juvenile audiences--though I doubt it. Still, if you're a fan, please remember that dissenting opinions are always welcomed at the Cafe!

Bad Movie Theatre: Magnificent Obsession (1954)

I'm afraid I can't agree with the trailer.

Let me begin by stating that I hold big screen soaps in great affection (I'm always game to revisit A Summer Place). And while I favor director Delmer Daves over Douglas Sirk in this genre, I admire Sirk's classy Imitation of Life  (1959) and his quintessential sudser All That Heaven Allows (1955). So, it's with heavy heart that--after recently rewatching Magnificent Obsession--I must pronounce it a dreadful way to spend 108 minutes.

The film's promotional spots highlighted
Douglas's novel (and Jane's hand).

The plot owes more to the 1935 film version than to Lloyd C. Douglas' best-selling 1929 novel. Rock Hudson, in his first starring role in an "A" picture, portrays irresponsible, millionaire playboy Robert Merrick. Following a reckless boating accident, Merrick is revived with the hospital's only resuscitator. Without that critical piece of medical equipment, philanthropist Dr. Phillips dies from a heart attack. Merrick tries to purge his guilt by writing a $25,000 check to Phillips' widow, Helen (Jane Wyman)--but she refuses the money.

Merrick (Hudson) begins to get serious.

After a drunken Merrick crashes his car, he meets Edward Randolph (Otto Kruger), a close friend of Phillips, who shares a common "pay it forward" philosophy. Inspired by Randolph, Merrick tries to make amends with Helen, but inadvertently causes her to be struck by a car...and lose her sight.

One day, Merrick encounters Helen by the lake and the two begin talking. He calls himself Robinson (Robby for short) to avoid revealing his identity. As love begins to grow, Merrick starts pursuing his medical studies again and vows to do all that he can to restore Helen's sight.

Lana Turner in the superior
Imitation of Life.

It's easy to see why a Magnificent Obsession remake appealed to Douglas Sirk. The novel and the earlier film adaptation were character-driven dramas that focused on changing the course of one's life for the better. That's a theme that Sirk explores in later (better ) films. In Imitation of Life, Lora (Lana Turner) progresses from a low-income single parent to a Broadway star--with the help of African American best friend Annie (Juanita Moore). In All That Heaven Allows, affluent widow Cary (Jane Wyman) eventually realizes that true happiness lies with the simple life espoused by Ron, her young, handsome gardener (Rock Hudson). Incidentally, both these films also tackled the challenges of being a social outcast: Ron is rejected by Cary's friends and family; in Imitation of Life, Annie's daughter tries to pass herself off as white.

Alas, while Magnificent Obsession has good intentions, it never comes close to becoming a good film. The screenplay condenses Lloyd C. Douglas' philosophical underpinnings to a ten-minute conversation that sounds like a paid ad for a self-help book. The banal dialogue doesn't help, with my favorite line being Merrick's response to a comment about painting: "As far as I'm concerned, art is just a guy's name." But the script's biggest problem is that nothing much happens after Helen reveals she has known Robby's identity for a long time. There's no conflict in the film's final 40 minutes as it lumbers toward its obvious conclusion.

Hudson and Wyman share an embrace.

Jane Wyman (who was Oscar-nominated) does what she can with her character, but Rock Hudson struggles to get a handle on the playboy-turned-surgeon. I also think he was still honing his skills as an actor, especially given some of his wooden line readings. Magnificent Obsession catapulted Hudson to bigger and better parts (he made Giant two years later)--although I believe his success with this film had more to do with his good looks and earnestness than to his performance.

From a production standpoint, Magnificent Obsession is a blotch on Sirk's otherwise stellar career as a celluloid craftsman. While the color scheme is interesting, the use of painted backdrops and rear screens give the film a cheap look (that said, there are some stunning outdoor shots at the beginning of the film). However, the biggest distraction is the overly melodramatic score by Frank Skinner, which opts for sweeping violins and a chorus of "ah"'s at the tiniest whiff of emotion.

Magnificent Obsession has its share of admirers...and you may be one. (Heck, it was even released in a deluxe edition by Criterion). If you're among its fans, I encourage you to leave a dissenting comment. However, I was obsessed to write this review and state how magnificently lame I found it to be.

Bad Movie Theatre: Clint and Bo vs. a Skier-eating "Snowbeast"

As Will Shakespeare might have said: "We come not to criticize bad movies, but to appreciate them for providing a contrast to good movies." Lest we not forget, the line between intentional and unintentional humor can be a fine one. With these insights in mind, we introduce Bad Movie Theatre, a new occasional feature at the Cafe.

Bo Svenson--not to be confused with Bo Derek.

Before discussing Snowbeast, I want to clarify that the "Clint" and "Bo" of this post's title do not refer to Eastwood and Derek. Alas, we are talking about Clint Walker and Bo Svenson. The confusion is understandable: Both Clint's are tall (though Walker towers four inches above Eastwood) and both Bo's are blonde (Svenson is a guy, Derek is not).  For the record, Bo Svenson is fourteen inches taller than Bo Derek and that's if the latter's height is rounded up. Yes, our Clint and Bo are both 6' 6"--which is good if you're fighting an equally tall carnivorous Bigfoot.

Yvette Mimieux, who has little to do.

Bo Svenson plays Gar Seberg (no relation to Jean), a former Olympic skiing gold medalist making a promotional appearance at the 50th Winter Carnival at Rill Lodge. Gar and his wife Ellen (a dark-haired Yvette Mimieux) have a rocky marriage, mostly because of Gar's mid-life crisis. She wants him to ask lodge manager Tony (Robert Logan) for a job. Tony, incidentally, still has a thing for Ellen, who jilted him for Gar years earlier.

As if the big celebration and his former flame weren't enough, Tony has to deal with the mutilated corpse of a skier found near the slopes. The scene where he informs his preoccupied grandmother (Sylvia Sidney), who owns the lodge, is a personal favorite:

TONY (referring to the skier's death):  "This wasn't an animal...and it wasn't human either."

GRANDMOTHER:  "Well, that certainly narrows it down."

Snowbeast peeking through the gym window.

You can't fault Grandma's logic. Her focus, naturally, is ensuring that nothing stops the carnival since its financial success is critical to avoiding bankruptcy. Despite Tony's pleadings, Grandma moves ahead with the beauty pageant and other festivities at the high school gym. Just when the townsfolk are packed in there like sardines, the Snowbeast attacks. Following its rampage, Sheriff Paraday ("special guest star" Clint Walker), Gar, and Tony set out to track the monster down.

Since Snowbeast is a low-budget affair, the monster is only glimpsed in its few appearances--which is a good thing since it's not very impressive-looking. Instead, we get a lot of first-monster camera views, hear growls, and see tracks in the snow.

If the plot of Snowbeast sounds vaguely familiar, it may be because its premise--a monstrous creature attacking a resort during tourist season--was lifted from Jaws (Spielberg's film adaptation was released two years earlier). Sadly, the script was written by Joseph Stefano, who--earlier in his career--wrote the screenplay for  Hitchcock's Psycho and twelve episodes of The Outer Limits (including the classic "The Zanti Misfits").

Clint Walker, who fared better as Cheyenne.

For the record, both Clint and Bo fared better in other movies with large terrifying creatures. The Night of the Grizzly may be Clint's best theatrical film in which he received star billing. It used to be a TV staple, but its showings have become scarce over the last 15 years. As for Bo, he played the Monster to Robert Foxworth's Dr. Frankenstein in a two-part TV adaptation of Frankenstein (1973). And while Bo may not be a champion skier in real life, he has won several judo championships.