Welcome back to Drive-In Saturday Night! Summer’s here, and the time is right for a double dose of American-International teen flicks, so pull in, pull up a speaker to hang on your car window, and enjoy our first feature, 1964’s BIKINI BEACH, starring Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello:
BIKINI BEACH is the third of AIP’s ‘Beach Party’ movies, and this one’s a typical hodgepodge of music, comedy, and the usual teenage shenanigans. The gang’s all here, heading to the beach on spring break for surfing and swinging. This time around, there’s a newcomer on the sand, British rock star The Potato Bug, with Frankie playing a dual role. Potato Bug is an obvious spoof of the big Beatlemania fever sweeping the country, with all the beach chicks (or “birds”, as he calls ’em) screaming whenever PB starts singing one of his songs, complete with Lennon/McCartney-esque “Wooos” and “Yeah, yeah, yeahs”…
Mike Gable (Lee Majors) is the angriest cop in Galveston, famous for tossing people out of windows. Jake (Don Rickles!) is Gable’s partner, who seems to be too old to still be on the force. Gable’s best friend is Keaton (Abe Vigoda), a retired mobster who now lives in a nursery home. When it becomes apparent that someone has put a hit out on Keaton, Gable and Jake are sent to investigate. A shoot out at the nursery home leads to Jake’s death. Another shoot out at a hotel leads to the death of several other cops. Gable can either toss Keaton out a window or he can team up with him to solve the murders. Imagine 48 Hours with Lee Majors replacing Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy stepping aside for Abe Vigoda.
In the style of both 48 Hours and Midnight Run, Keaton’s Cop tries to combine comedy with action but the comedy is too lame to be funny and the action is too brutal to be light-hearted. For some reason, Don Rickles plays his role completely straight while Abe Vigoda mostly just looks happy to have the chance to play a leading role for once. Lee Majors is believable as an angry cop, mostly because he appears to be pissed off about having to appear in Keaton’s Cop. It can’t be easy to go from being the Six Million Dollar Man to a movie like this.
You’d think by the fourth entry in American-International’s ‘Beach Party’ series, 1965’s BEACH BLANKET BINGO, the formula would be wearing a bit thin. Frankie and Annette are still trying to make each other jealous, Eric Von Zipper and his Rats are still comic menaces, and the gang’s into yet another new kick (skydiving this time around). But thanks to a top-notch supporting cast of characters, a sweet subplot involving a mermaid, and the genius of comedy legend Buster Keaton , BEACH BLANKET BINGO is loads of fun!
Aspiring singer Sugar Kane skydives from a plan into the middle of the ocean and is “rescued” by surfer Frankie. But not really… it’s all been a publicity stunt by her PR agent ‘Bullets’. Sugar is played by lovely Linda Evans, right before she landed on TV’s THE BIG VALLEY, and ‘Bullets’ is none other than the fantastically sarcastic Paul Lynde. But wait… Eric Von Zipper…
“Mr. Warmth”, the great Don Rickles, died yesterday at age 90. He was outrageous, rude, definitely non-PC, and hysterically funny. Rickles threw his verbal brickbats at everybody regardless of race, creed, national origin, or political persuasion, and it was all in good-spirited fun. There will never be another stand-up comic quite like Don Rickles, especially in today’s “safe space” world, and it’s a pity, because if we can’t all laugh at ourselves, if we can’t take a joke, then it’s time to pack it in.
Something I didn’t know about Don Rickles is he didn’t start out to be “The Merchant of Venom”. He intended to become a serious actor, studying at the prestigious American Academy of Dramatic Arts in Manhattan. Frustrated with his lack of acting jobs, Don began doing stand-up as a way to gain exposure. When he was heckled by some audience members, he heckled ’em right back…
Remember when they used to show old episodes of Saturday Night Live on Comedy Central? I once watched an episode from 1984. The host was Don Rickles. His opening monologue was pure Don Rickles, which is to say that he insulted everyone in the audience. It didn’t matter who the person was, Rickles was going to insult them. He insulted John Madden. He insulted Brandon Tartikoff, the president of the NBC. He insulted the people who had just come in from off the street. I don’t remember much about the specific insults. The main thing that I remember is that the audience absolutely loved it. Even before Rickles thanked them all for being good sports, the audience was eating out of his hand.
Don Rickles was the King of Insult Comedy. His nickname was Mr. Warmth. The nickname was not as ironic as you might think. Off-stage, Rickles was reportedly a kind and generous man. And, on-stage, Rickles may have insulted the audience but he did it with a twinkle in his eye and he always thanked him at the end. His humor may have been built on insults but it was also built on self-depreciation. The only person he made fun of more than the guy sitting in front row of the audience was himself. Going to one of his shows might lead to you being called a “hockey puck,” but Rickles’s ultimate message was always that we’re all in this together.
As funny as Rickles was, he was also lucky enough to start his career in the 1950s. (Reportedly, he got his big break when he saw Frank Sinatra in the audience, said, “Make yourself at home, Frank. Hit somebody!” and insulted his work in his last movie. Sinatra loved it.) If Don Rickles had started his career this century, his politically incorrect humor would have gotten him banned from most clubs and Amy Schumer and Lena Dunham would have led a twitter campaign to have him incarcerated. Don Rickles was lucky enough to by funny at a time when comedians were actually rewarded for making us laugh.
What was your favorite Don Rickles role? He always said that his grandkids only liked him because he voiced Mr. Potato Head in the Toy Story films. Rickles also had a rare dramatic role in Martin Scorsese’s Casino, more than holding his own against heavyweight actors like Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci.
Don Rickles died today at the age of 90. I would say rest in peace but I don’t think Don Rickles would have appreciated the “in peace” part. I will just say goodbye, Mr. Rickles and thank you for the laughter.
For tonight’s excursion into the world of televised horror, we have the 10th episode of the 2nd season of Tales From The Crypt! This episode, which originally aired on June 5th, 1990, is called The Ventriloquist’s Dummy!
Who doesn’t love a creepy ventriloquist story? And this is certainly a creepy one, with an ending that you’ll either love or hate.
This episode was directed by Richard Donner and written by future Shawshank Redemption director and Walking Dead showrunner, Frank Darabont!
The “Beach Party ” gang’s back and so’s the familiar formula in MUSCLE BEACH PARTY, second in the American-International series. It’s Easter vacation and Frankie Avalon is still horny, Annette Funicello’s still waiting for marriage, and a beautiful foreign woman is again coming between them. This time it’s Lucianna Paluzzi as Countess Julie, a rich heiress who wants to make Frankie a singing star and her personal property.
Eric Von Zipper and his Rats aren’t around this time, replaced by a bunch of bodybuilders led by trainer Jack Fanny (the inimitable Don Rickles). Julie first sets her sights on “Mr. Galaxy” Flex Martian, but dumps him when she spies Frankie. This leads to war between the surfers and the musclemen, with the inevitable slapstick melee. Flex is played by Rock Stevens, a real-life bodybuilder who muscled his way through a few Italian peplum films before reverting to his real name of Peter Lupus and…
Casino, Martin Scorsese’s epic, Las Vegas-set film from 1995, is one of my favorite films of all time. It seems to show up on cable every other week and, whenever I see that it’s playing, I always make it a point to catch at least a few minutes.
Casino opens with veteran Las Vegas bookie Ace Rothstein (played by Robert De Niro) getting into a car. He starts the engine and the car explodes. The rest of the movie is an extended flashback as both Ace and his friend and eventual rival Nicky (Joe Pesci) explain how Ace went from being the most powerful man in Vegas to getting blown up in his car.
We are shown how Ace was originally sent to Vegas by a group of mobsters who are headquartered in the far less flamboyant town of Kansas City. Ace keeps an eye on the city for the bosses and, as long as the money keep coming in, they leave Ace alone to do whatever he wants. When Ace isn’t bribing government officials (including one particularly sleazy state senator who was reportedly based on future U.S. Sen. Harry Reid) and breaking the fingers of the unlucky gamblers who have been caught trying to cheat the casino, he’s busy falling in love with the beautiful prostitute Ginger (Sharon Stone, who was nominated for Best Actress for her work in this film). Though Ginger warns Ace that she doesn’t love him and is still hung up on her manipulative pimp Lester Diamond (James Woods, who is hilariously sleazy), Ginger and Ace still get married.
Everything’s perfect except for the fact that Ace’s old friend Nicky (Joe Pesci) has also moved to Vegas. As opposed to the calm and low-key Ace, Nicky has a violent temper and soon, he starts drawing unwanted attention to both himself and Ace. When Ace attempts to control Nicky, Nicky responds by turning on his friend and soon, the two of them are fighting an undeclared war for control of the city. Meanwhile, the bosses in Kansas City are starting to notice that less and less money is making its way back to them from Las Vegas…
There are so many things that I love about Casino that I don’t even know where to begin.
First off, I love the film’s glamour. I love the way that the film celebrates the glitz of Las Vegas, presenting it as an oasis of exuberant life sitting in the middle of a barren desert that, we’re told, is full of dead people. I love seeing the tacky yet stylish casinos. I love seeing the inside of Ace’s mansion. And Ginger’s clothes are just to die for!
I love that Scorsese’s signature visual style perfectly keeps up with and comments on the natural flamboyance of Las Vegas. Consider how the film starts, with the shadowy form of Ace Rothstein being tossed through the air and then descending back down to Earth. Consider the image of Ace standing in the middle of the desert and being submerged within a thick cloud of dust as Nicky’s car speeds away from him. Consider how Scorsese’s camera glides through the casino, letting us see both the people who cheat and the people who are watching them cheat. Consider Nicky standing outside of his jewelry stare and freezing the movement of the camera with his reptilian glare. Consider the scene of cocaine being snorted up a straw, seemingly filmed from inside the straw. Casino is a film full of the type of images that all directors promise but few ever actually deliver.
I love that Casino is built around a brilliant lead performance from Robert De Niro. De Niro gives a performance that mixes both tragedy and comedy. My favorite De Niro moment comes about halfway through the film, when Ace finds himself hosting a wonderfully tacky cable access show called Aces High. Ace interviews “celebrities” like Frankie Avalon, introduces the Ace Rothstein Dancers, and even finds the time to do some juggling. De Niro makes Ace into an endearing and awkward character in these scenes, a permanent outsider who has finally managed to become something of a star.
It’s easy to compare Casino to Scorsese’s other classic mix of gangster film and social satire, 1990’s Goodfellas. Both films feature De Niro, Pesci, and Frank Vincent. (In a nice piece of irony, Casino features Vincent getting a little revenge after being attacked twice by Joe Pesci in two different Scorsese films.) Both films are based on nonfiction books by Nicholas Pileggi. Both films feature nonstop music playing on the soundtrack. Both films feature multiple narrators who explain to us how the day-to-day operations of the Mafia are conducted. When Scorsese shows us Ace and Ginger’s wedding day, it feels almost like a scene-for-scene recreation of Henry Hill’s wedding in Goodfellas.
At the same time, there are a few key differences between Goodfellas and Casino. Whereas Goodfellas was all about being a low-level cog in the Mafia, Casino is about management. Casino is about the guys who the Goodfellas made rich. Goodfellas was about the drudgery of everyday life whereas Casino is about the glitz and the glamour promised by the fantasy world of Las Vegas. Whereas Goodfellas was almost obsessively anti-romantic, Casino is a gangster film with heart. No matter what else you might say about him as a character, Ace’s love for both Ginger and Las Vegas is real. On a similar note, when Nicky turns against Ace, it’s because his feelings have been hurt. In the end, Ace and Nicky come across like children who have, temporarily, been given the keys to the world’s biggest playground.
Casino is a glossy, flamboyant film that literally opens with a bang and ends on a note of melancholy and loss. Not only is Ace reduced to being an anonymous old man working out of a nondescript office but our last two views of Vegas are of the old casinos being dynamited and an army of overweight tourists emerging from the airport like the unstoppable zombies from Dawn of the Dead. This, then, is Scorsese’s view of the apocalypse. The world isn’t destroyed by a cataclysm but instead by an invasion of terminal middle American blandness.
Mike Gable (Lee Majors) is the angriest cop in Galveston, famous for tossing people out of windows. Jake (Don Rickles!) is Gable’s partner, who seems to be too old to still be on the force. Gable’s best friend is Keaton (Abe Vigoda), a retired mobster who now lives in a nursery home. When it becomes apparent that someone has put a hit out on Keaton, Gable and Jake are sent to investigate. A shoot out at the nursery home leads to Jake’s death. Another shoot out at a hotel leads to the death of several other cops. Gable can either toss Keaton out a window or he can team up with him to solve the murders. Imagine 48 Hours with Lee Majors replacing Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy stepping aside for Abe Vigoda.
Through the Shattered Lens 