One-Trick Pony

One-Trick Pony
October 3, 1980
Warner Bros.
Drama, Musical
VHS
B-

Although this is a melancholy, relatively realistic movie, it is no more the biography of Paul Simon than Can't Stop the Music is the biography of the Village People.  Yes, Simon wrote the script; yes, his nine- or ten-year-old son Harper plays his character in the opening flashback; and, yes, members of his real band play the movie band.  But 39-year-old Simon wasn't 34-year-old Jonah Levin; he wasn't a one-trick pony, a one-hit wonder who'd done nothing popular since the '60s.  This is more like a parallel-universe Simon, if he were unsuccessful but still needed to perform, in this case mostly on the road, despite the strain on his family life.  (The scenes with son Matty are all good.)  The negative view of the music-business world may be Simon's though.  Certainly he was at a crossroads then, although his songs, the title track and others, are under-rated in his portfolio.  There's a moment when we see the new wave of New Wave sweeping away Simon's relatively simple sound, when his band gets a tepid response and then the crowd goes wild for the B-52s performing "Rock Lobster."  (Their "Dance This Mess Around" was in Roadie.)

It's hard to make an entertaining movie about a protagonist who's depressed, and it doesn't help that the dialogue wasn't recorded with the same care and attention as the music.  It was a relief when always articulate 36-year-old Harry Shearer made a welcome return to my movie collection (27 years after Abbott & Costello Go to Mars), as Bernie Wepner.  Simon wasn't this subdued in Annie Hall, he was mellow but he wasn't mumbling.  I couldn't even hear Blair Brown half the time, except when she yelled at him.

This is obviously one of the 1980 movies where the '60s are reassessed, and there's a scene whose dark humor has only increased with time: Jonah and the band listing dead rock & rollers. When Jonah says there must be someone English on the list, it's like CStM not knowing about AIDS; OTP doesn't know who'd be shot a couple months later.  (Simon's "The Late Great Johnny Ace" would pay tribute to John Lennon, leading to a strange moment in the reunion concert with Art Garfunkel, which I'll discuss when we get there.)

Besides the B-52s, other musicians appear as themselves.  And Merv Griffin is one of the a cappella singers.

Hello Down There

Hello Down There
June 25, 1969
Paramount
Comedy, Musical, Sci-Fi, Action
VHS
B+

No, I didn't grow up with this one, but I wish I had.  Even discovering it in my early 20s, I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing, and I still don't.  It's not exactly a kids' movie, too much drug humor and sex humor, although pretty mild by post-1972 standards.  And, yet, just like Did You Hear the One About the Traveling Saleslady?, it could pass for a '60s sitcom pilot if you squint a bit.  I mean, look at this cast!  Tony Randall, Ken Berry (as Randall's rival), Arnold Stang (as Berry's stupider [!] assistant, and like in Skidoo he dies, or at least his character is left for dead and forgotten), Jim Backus (Howelling up a storm as Randall's boss), Backus's wife as a concerned parent,  Charlotte Rae (as a wacky maid, there's a stretch), Harvey Lembeck (as a radar technician), Merv Griffin as himself, Janet Leigh, Richard Dreyfuss-- wait a minute.  Janet Leigh and Richard Dreyfuss?  What are they doing here?  Well, like everyone else, they are both embarrassing themselves and playing to their strengths, respectively screaming and being sarcastic.

This was an Ivan Tors production, so we get a lot of shots of dolphins and other sea critters frolicking around the underwater home that Randall, wife Leigh, forgettable blond kids, and the kids' friends (Dreyfuss and the comic relief one named Marvin) live in for somewhere between two weeks and thirty days.  (The movie ends in media res, with Navy parachutists attacking.)  The house is called the Green Onion, even though it's white, so the band that the teens are in is renamed from Harold and His Hang-Ups to, yes, the Green Onion.  There's also an orange submarine that becomes yellow.  Continuity is not this movie's strong point, as seen in the fact that Leigh's character is established as a writer (of Forty Nights in a Harem), and then this is forgotten for over an hour.

The script is co-written by Tors, Art Arthur (who also co-wrote Birds Do It), and a couple other people.  The director is Jack Arnold, who did a lot of TV, including Gilligan's Island.  Obviously, this adds to the TV feel.  But in an attempt to be more contemporary than television, we get McDowall sort of reprising his Tony Krum character in The Cool Ones, this time as "boy millionaire" record producer Nate Ashbury.  (I never said this movie was subtle.)  As in The Cool Ones, there's a computer that determines the potential success of a rock band, this time one that's operated by Catwoman: Lee Meriwether as a miniskirted computer scientist.  The songs are, well, wonderful, in an absolutely cheesy way.  Not only are they worthy of the Archies, but they're quite obviously lip-synced (except for Randall's serenade of Leigh).  No wonder Rae, who drinks tonic that she worries is spiked with LSD, can't resist shaking her groove thang.

I'm still marveling over the cast.  I mean, there's a moment where Merv Griffin translates McDowall's hip slang for Backus, and they're not even the ones stealing the scene.  A couple less familiar faces:  Jay Laskay, Philo here, was Willie in Birds Do It; Janine King, age unknown, plays a crying baby and would turn up as a carnival patron in Scavenger Hunt.

This is, incidentally, the 100th comedy I've reviewed, although I'll admit my genre tags are somewhat arbitrary.  Clearly, this one isn't just a comedy, but, man, is it hilarious!