99 Minutes, Color, USA, 1970
Written By: Arthur Julian & Marty Roth
Directed By: Norman Tokar
Dramatis Personae:
Robert
Morse is Ensign Thomas Garland, bumbling but well-meaning
Coast Guard officer, recently assigned to Balboa Harbor.
Stefanie
Powers is Kate Fairchild, owner of BalboaÕs boating school and boat
rental place, and, ironically, the only character in the movie thatÕs really
anything approaching Bohemian.
Phil
Silvers is Harry Simmons, jewel thief and
mastermind of a gang of bumbling idiotsÉwhich should you tell you something
about how smart he really is.
Norman Fell is Max, member of HarryÕs
gang, the only one who seems halfway competent, and is therefore the Straight
Man in the act.
Mickey Shaughnessy is Charlie, dumbest member of
HarryÕs gang (ponder THAT for a second), a sort of third-rate Lou Costello.
Wally Cox is Jason Barrett, resident of Balboa,
and the swingingest cat in the harbor, Daddy-O.
Don Ameche is Commander
Taylor, eternally put-upon commanding officer of the Balboa Coast Guard
station.
Commentary:
The late 1960s and early 1970s were a grim time
for Disney. Uncle Walt had just recently gone the way of all flesh, and without
his leadership the company that bore his name foundered, both artistically and
financially. His many successors – his brother Roy, his son-in-law Ron
Miller, long-time friends Don Tatum and Card Walker – tried their best,
but it would be nearly two decades before Walt Disney Productions regained its
status as the film studio of choice for family entertainment. To make matters
even more complicated, at the same time the entire country was going through a
huge cultural upheaval, where old morals were giving way to new ones, and the
very foundations of American life were changing. For Disney, this was a
devastating one-two punch: not only had they lost their guiding visionary in
the field of quality family entertainment, but the very idea of what
constituted Òquality family entertainmentÓ was changing right before their
eyes.
With that in mind, itÕs no wonder that DisneyÕs
feature film output during this period was so bizarre. Their animated features
were largely forgettable (The Aristocats, anyone?), but their
live-action movies? Goodness. Herbie the Love Bug. Medfield College, the
eternally cash-strapped college with a startling number of super-geniuses in
the student body. Haley Mills saving her parentsÕ marriage in stereo. Jodie
Foster solving mysteries in upper-class England. Taken as a whole, this output
is a clear indication of the growing pains Disney was going through. It was a
struggle to redefine itself, to remain relevant, during an uncertain time. And The
Boatniks, while certainly not the funniest movie Disney ever produced, and
certainly not the best movie produced during this time period, is perhaps the
quintessential movie to look at. It exemplifies the trend quite well: itÕs an
attempt by Disney to get Òwith it.Ó
The Boatniks takes place in the Southern
California harbor of Balboa. As the credits roll, we watch Lieutenant Jordan,
Coast Guard officer, on his rounds. The oddball distress calls he answers,
interspersed with bits of physical comedy from port residents, serve to prepare
us for what we are going to see: Balboa is a port full of eccentrics, swinging
partygoers, and some just plain numbskulls. By the time the credits are over,
Jordan has returned to the Coast Guard station to meet with Commander Taylor.
Jordan will be leaving Balboa soon, having finally had his fill of the zaniness
to be found here. He will stick around long enough to train his replacement:
one Ensign Tom Garland, Jr. Commander Taylor has high hopes for the new Ensign.
During the Second World War, he served under TomÕs father, Admiral ÒTorpedo
TommyÓ Garland, a war hero and a good friend. Naturally, Taylor expects Torpedo
TommyÕs son to be every bit the sailor man as his fatherÉand those of us
familiar with the ways of Komedyª can predict the next scene with both hands
tied behind our backs.
For the younger Tom Garland is a bit of a
screw-up, a well-intentioned but hopeless klutz. We first see him getting
written up by a traffic cop for multiple violations (heÕs running late, you
see). While this is happening, the policemanÕs radio, apparently tuned to the
Plot-Point Station, announces an all-points bulletin: a Los Angeles jewelry
exchange has been robbed, and some $2 million in merchandise taken. This
significant haul (in 1970 dollars, at least) is the career achievement of one
Harry Simmons and his gang, who are on their way to Mexico to hide out until
the heat blows over. While attempting to act casual on the crowded Southern
California roads, they have a fender bender with Tom; everyone in both cars
were too distracted to watch where they were going. Harry attempts to play it
cool and dismiss the whole thing before the police arrive and start sniffing
around the trunk where they have their stolen loot, and in so doing he
overhears the APB on the convenient exposition-dealing police radio. Roadblocks
are being set up, and the Mexican border is being watched. This throws a wrench
in HarryÕs works, and he is forced to re-think his brilliant strategy of just
driving across the border.
Tom finally arrives at Balboa, where he makes
the acquaintance of Jason Barrett – a Heffner-esque swinging cat whose
life is a constant cocktail party on his boat – and Kate Fairchild, the
boating instructor. Although his meet-cute with Kate is not so cute: in true
Komedicª fashion, he ends up inadvertently spilling a bucket of paint on her.
Nevertheless he reports in, where Commander Taylor makes it clear that heÕs got
great expectations for the young Ensign. Expectations that Tom instantly dashes
by falling off the patrol boat during a tour (you can just hear the
Òwanh-wanh-wanhÓ).
Meanwhile, Harry and the gang have also set up
shop in Balboa, and Harry has come up with another, ahem, brilliant scheme.
With the roads and airports being watched by police, the only way to get to
Mexico undetected is by sea. So with their loot hidden in a picnic basket (the
scene of Max and Charlie hollowing out sausages and pickles and stuffing them
with jewelry is so bizarre itÕs almost funny in spite of itself), they will
rent a sailboat and sail to Acapulco. A motorboat would be too obvious, Harry
reasons; three friends out on a pleasure cruise with a picnic lunch would be
far less likely to arouse suspicion. Never mind, of course, that none of the
three bumbling criminals know how to sailÉ
Meanwhile, Tom answers his first distress call:
a crabby old couple in a motorboat marooned on the rocks. Through a set of
unlucky circumstances that really arenÕt his fault, Tom winds up marooned on
the rocks too (wanh-wanh-wanh). When Kate sails by with some of her preteen sailing
students, Tom must swallow his pride and ask for a tow, an incident which earns
him a severe chewing-out from Commander Taylor. Meanwhile, Harry and his gang
rent a boat from KateÕs shop and proceed to bumble their way through the
harbor. They donÕt make it to Mexico, but they do make it to a dockside Mexican
restaurant (again, wanh-wanh-wanh).
Later that night, Tom and Kate bump into each
other in a crowded restaurant, and wind up sharing a table. Over dinner and
drinks, they not only patch things up but bond, and sparks are a-flying. Tom
reveals his belief that he is jinxed; nothing seems to go right for him. But
Kate advises him to just have a little self-confidence, to stop trying to live
up to his fatherÕs legacy and just try his best.
The next day, Tom takes some of KateÕs students
on a patrol around the harbor. A fog rolls in, making visibility difficultÉand
Harry and his gang are still out on the water, as lost as three bumbling idiots
can be. Harry continues to insist that the cover of fog is a good thing for
their escape, even though he has no idea where theyÕre going. Tom runs across
them, and attempts to hail them. Not wanting to be found, Harry refuses to
answer, steers an erratic course, and eventually collides with TomÕs ship. The
three thieves escape with their lives, but the picnic basket is knocked
overboard and sunk (wanh-wanh-wÉoh, forget it).
This incident earns Tom another reaming from
Commander Taylor (even though this screw-up was even less his fault that the
first one), and he redoubles his efforts to make good in Balboa. KateÕs moral
support seems to make some difference, because once he buckles down Tom starts
to actually shape up in a competent officer. Meanwhile, Harry concocts another
hair-brained scheme: renting a smaller boat, he goes out to where the picnic
basket sank. With Charlie pretending to fish as a cover, Max dredges the bottom
looking for the basket. After a day of disappointment – with Max pulling
up from the bottom pretty much everything BUT the picnic basket – they
are about to pack it in, when Charlie actually hooks a fish: an ornery sea bass
so big that it actually starts to pull their boat away from shore. Once again,
Tom comes to the rescue.
Things finally seem to be going TomÕs wayÉbut
then, Kate points out something in the local paper. The bass the three thieves
inadvertently caught was record-sized, and they got their picture taken with
it. The only problem is, they managed to conceal their faces when the photo was
snapped. Now why would three law-abiding fishermen who just made a spectacular
catch not want everyone to know who they are? This, coupled with HarryÕs
persistence in trying one hair-brained scheme after another to retrieve his
sunken loot, arouses TomÕs suspicions enough to start investigating what they
might really be up to.
The Boatniks is a bit of a mess. As
a comedy, it fails to be really funny, mainly because its target audience is
unclear. Granted, one of Uncle WaltÕs primary goals was to create ÒfamilyÓ
entertainment, not ÒchildrenÕsÓ entertainment – that is to say, movies
that could be enjoyed by the entire family, not just the kids – but itÕs
hard to know who The Boatniks was meant to entertain. The humor is a bit
more risquŽ than typical childrenÕs fare, but not risquŽ enough to really
appeal to older kids or adults. It seems to be striving to be one of those
all-star zany madcap caper films that were floating around in the 1960Õs, and a
lot of the proper elements are there. YouÕve got the caper, the bumbling hero,
the sexy-in-a-wholesome way love interest. ItÕs also pretty densely populated
with established comedic and character actors in small roles – besides
Don Ameche and Wally Cox, youÕve also go Al ÒGrandpa MunsterÓ Lewis and Joe
Ross. All the pieces are there to make a passable beach movie-type comedy, but
they never line up right. ThatÕs
somehow appropriate: this is the time period where Disney tried to get Òhip,Ó
after all, and they just werenÕt good at it yet. Watching The Boatniks really does feel like
listening to your Mom try to use modern slang. ItÕs endearing yet painful at
the same time.
The most obvious example is, of course, in the
very title of the movie. The Boatniks. Well, theyÕre
obviously trying to evoke the whole Beat Movement thing, which was pretty cool back
thenÉI suppose. But thereÕs very little to be found in the movie thatÕs
actually Bohemian. The character of Kate Fairchild – daughter of a
wealthy New England family who dropped out and moved to California to live a
simpler life – is probably the closest the movie ever comes to a genuine
Beatnik type of character. There is a half-hearted effort to try and be a bit
more adult in its humor; with the character of Jason Barrett and his bevy of
bikini-clad beauties, thereÕs almost an attempt at something like ÒLaugh-In.Ó
ÒBippy humor,Ó if you will. Of course it doesnÕt go that far (it IS a Disney
film, after all), but itÕs there. And the half-measures of how that type of
humor is treated wind up making it slightly disconcerting when you stop to
think about it. The images of
horny Coast Guard sailors lusting after the sailing ladies arenÕt nearly as
creepy as the image of mousy little Wally Cox, clad in velvet robe and martini
glass, a busty blonde on each arm. The horror of the 1970Õs encapsulated,
really: the implication that a guy who looks like THAT can somehow score with
scores of lovely ladies. ItÕs creepy, and made doubly creepy by the fact that
itÕs taking place in the same movie where Robert Morse is doing pratfalls and
Norman Fell is getting dragged around the harbor by a giant fish.
It is a shame that The Boatniks didnÕt work. There are
a lot of reasons it could have. All the actors involved are quite talented and
are clearly doing their best with what theyÕre given (Robert Morse makes a
surprisingly good Straight Man). The concept, while not the most original, is a
pretty solid one that could have worked better in the right hands. It HAS
worked, in other incarnations. Beach movies in the 1960s are chocked full of
the same stock situations: young beautiful people, eccentric coastal denizens,
bumbling crooks. Unfortunately, Disney just cannot do beach movies. ThereÕs a
playfulness needed in a beach movie, a sense of irreverence that Disney
filmmakers had no real previous experience with. After all, Walt Disney was the
man who objected to Samuel Arkoff casting his darling Annette Funicello in a
series of beach movies for fear it would ruin her girl-next-door image (if you
ask me, Uncle Walt had nothing to worry about, but thatÕs a whole Ônother
review). ItÕs a genre of comedy that Uncle Walt didnÕt approve of, and so it
was never attempted during his lifetime. When Disney filmmakers later tried to
emulate it, they consequently failed. They simply didnÕt know HOW to make a
beach movie. They had all the pieces, but they didnÕt know how to put them
together.
And so, The Boatniks remains an interesting
failure, a largely unfunny, unremarkable affair. And maybe thatÕs for the best;
itÕs neither good enough to be hailed as a classic, nor bad enough to live on in
infamy. ItÕs simply overlooked, one of a multitude of mediocre Disney films
from that period, remarkable only for kitsch value and as an intellectual
curiosity: an artifact of DisneyÕs transitional period, a failed attempt to be
something else. Perhaps it should be judged, not on its own merits (which are
few), but as a stepping stone in DisneyÕs artistic progression. Failure is,
after all, an important part of the learning process; with The Boatniks and its brethren,
Disney learned what NOT to do.
Things To Look For:
- One of the most
interesting – and discomfiting – things to be found in The
Boatniks is not the abortive sexual humor, but the glaring instances ofÉwell,
shall we say, Òcultural insensitivity.Ó There are some embarrassing moments of
racially-insensitive humor, as HarryÕs increasingly ludicrous schemes to
reclaim his loot and escape Balboa involve employing first a Japanese pearl
diver, then a Mexican charter pilot. The pearl diver (played by
Japanese-American model and actress Midori) gets off the plane in
full kimono and Òshrinking lotusÓ mode, and HarryÕs efforts to communicate with
her via ÒEngrishÓ are rather painful to watch. Granted, the attempted humor
comes more from HarryÕs incompetence than from any stereotypical behavior on
the pearl diverÕs part, and she does turn the tables on Harry by revealing she
spoke perfect English all along and was running a long con to get part of the
loot for herself. The Mexican charter pilot does not get off as easily though,
when he reveals he has only one plane available because he rented the rest out
to the Honduras Air Force, and he has to get his wife and dozen kids to take
the laundry clotheslines off the plane wings before he can use it (Oh, Saludos
Amigos, so far away from here, Uncle Walt). Not exactly OFFENSIVE, per se, but
definitely INSENSITIVE. And a sobering reminder that it wasnÕt so long ago that
such attitudes were socially acceptable, or at least considered harmless enough
to be used for humor in a Disney movie.
- Believe it or not,
HarryÕs scheme to hide the stolen loot INSIDE the picnic food is actually
pretty clever. Or rather, the cleverest thing he manages to come up with over
the course of the movie. ThereÕs something very Treasure Island about
it. And
as I mentioned earlier, itÕs just very surreal about watching Max and Charlie
stuff jewelry into roast chickens and tuna sandwiches and hollow salamis. ItÕs
a clever little plot point, and itÕs a unfortunate that thatÕs really the
cleverest the movie becomes. Although I really want to know where Harry got
that picnic basket, which manages to somehow keep food dry and edible despite
being submerged in seawater for three or four daysÉ
- The Boatniks shares something else
with the beach movies of the 1960Õs when it comes to its central caper.
Whenever a caper or a crime was involved, it was almost always grand theft.
Usually jewelry or fine art (see Catalina Caper, Gidget, et al). There seems to
be a reason for this. Such a crime was usually non-violent, and usually
perpetrated by that mythical gentlemanly professional thief who steals mostly
for the thrill of it. This allows the criminals to remain somewhat likeable for
the audience, especially if they were the bumbling comic relief. ItÕs a type of
crime that requires intelligence – or at least, the illusion of it
coupled with some dumb luck – and finesse, not thuggishness. This kind of
explains how such a bunch of un-intimidating nitwits like Harry and his gang
could steal $2 million in fine jewelry in the first place. It says a lot about
your gang when your enforcer is Mr. Roper, you knowÉ
- Speaking of Normal
Fell, I present below, another example of the horror that was the 1970s:
Take a good, long look at this image. Go on,
burn it into your memory. Whenever you hear someone wax nostalgic about the
1970s, and how great they were, consider: the 1970s were a time in history when
men walked the earth DRESSED LIKE THIS.
Written words (c) 2008-2010 Tim o'Brien. Not to be used without permission.
Other content, including images, is intended as a Fair Use pursuant to 17
U.S.C. sec. 107.
Date Posted: June 11th, 2008
A part of
A Variation On A Theme
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