Film Review: Can’t Stop The Music (dir by Nancy Walker)

Posted on June 22, 2026 by Lisa Marie Bowman

1980’s Can’t Stop The Music opens with Jack Morrell (young Steve Guttenberg) working in a record store. However, he’s got bigger plans that just standing behind a cash register. He quits his job and then roller skates around New York with a big goofy grin on his face. Everyone he passes is charmed. And why not? New Yorkers are famous for their good-humor and polite manners.

Jack is a songwriter but he doesn’t have the voice necessary to sell his songs. His platonic roommate, former supermodel Sam Simpson (Valerie Perrine), decides that what Jack needs is a band to sing his lyrics. Luckily, Sam knows a singer named Felipe Rose. He spends all of his time dressed like an Indian brave. There’s no specific reason given for his costume choice, it’s just something that he does. Sam and Jack are also able to recruit a construction worker (David Hodo), a “leatherman” (Glenn Hughes), a cowboy (Randy Jones), a G.I. (Alex Briley), and a singing cop (Ray Simpson). The name of the band? The Village People!

Yes, Can’t Stop The Music is fictionalized story of how The Village People came together. It was directed by TV actress Nancy Walker. It was a major studio production, one that was expected to build on the popularity of disco and bring in a lot of money. Unfortunately, it was released at the same moment that disco stopped being trendy. Can’t Stop The Music has a reputation for being bad and campy. Both of those things are true but I should point out that it’s also a remarkably boring film. The movie is full of characters who are constantly coming and going. Sam has a large collection of friends and former co-workers, all of whom just tend to randomly pop up. Most of them don’t really add much to the overall plot and, indeed, it’s hard not to resent being expected to keep track of all of them when there’s really no reason for many of them to be in the film. A pre-transition Caitlyn Jenner plays Ron White, a lawyer who is mugged while delivering a cake and who ends up as Sam’s boyfriend. As much as I made fun of Jenner as a performer while reviewing CHiPs, Jenner is even worse in You Can’t Stop The Music. In fact, Jenner’s performance is one of the worst that I have ever seen. If Ron angry? Is Ron sad? Is Ron in love? Is Ron an alien from outer space? You never really can tell, largely because Caitlyn Jenner’s performance is so inept. It’s not so much that Jenner can’t show emotion and one gets the feeling that Jenner isn’t even sure what emotion is.

As for the Village People themselves …. well, this film leaves little doubt that none of them were professional actors. Felipe Rose probably comes the closest to giving a credible performance but, as individuals, the members of the Village People aren’t that interesting and it takes forever for them to actually become a group. Even after they become a group, they still can’t generate enough on-screen charisma to really hold our attention. Who knew the Village People were so boring?

The majority of the film plays coy as far as the subtext of the Village People’s song are concerned. Steve Guttenberg’s character is definitely gay-coded without the film actually coming out and saying so.. The construction worker gets a fantasy in which he imagines being lusted after by several female groupies. The first few performances of the Village People are rather bland and it’s almost as if the film is trying to avoid the fact that the Village People’s songs and the personas of the performers all paid tribute to gay culture in the 1970s. But then the film hits the YMCA production number and suddenly, the Village People are frolicking with half-naked, muscular men while joyfully singing about everything that’s available at the YMCA. For that brief moment, the film embraces the campiness of the Village People and this major studio production actually becomes a bit subversive. It’s also one of the few moments in the film in which anyone seems to be genuinely happy. The Village People seem to be having fun. Unfortunately, the YMCA sequence is the exception instead of the rule.

Can’t Stop The Music‘s sin isn’t that it’s boring as much as it’s just bland. It’s an incredibly blah film. No film about New York in the 70s has any right to be so forgettable.

18 Days of Paranoia #3: The Private Files of J. Edgar Hoover (dir by Larry Cohen)

Posted on March 16, 2020 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 1977 film, The Private Files of J. Edgar Hoover, opens in 1972.

J. Edgar Hoover, the much-feared and long-serving director of the FBI, has just been found dead at his home and it seems like the entire city of Washington, D.C. is scrambling. Not only are people jockeying for Hoover’s job but they’re also wondering what might be found in his secret files. As quickly becomes apparent, Hoover had a file on everyone. While Presidents lauded him and the press portrayed him as hero, Hoover spent nearly 50 years building up a surveillance state. Hoover said it was to fight criminals and subversives but mostly, it was just to hold onto his own power. Even President Nixon is heard, in the Oval Office, ordering his men to get those files.

Hoover may have known everyone’s secrets but, the film suggests, very few people knew his. The film is narrated by a former FBI agent named Dwight Webb (Rip Torn). Dwight talks about how he was kicked out of the FBI because it was discovered that he not only smoked but that he was having an adulterous affair with a secretary. “You know how Hoover was about that sex stuff,” he says, his tone suggesting that there’s more to the story than just Hoover being a bit of a puritan.

We flash back to the 1920s. We see a young Hoover (James Wainwright) as a part of the infamous Palmer Raids, an early effort by the Justice Department to track down and deport communist subversives. Though Hoover disagrees with the legality of the Palmer Raids, he still plays his part and that loyalty is enough to eventually get him appointed, at the age of 29, to be the head of the agency that would eventually become the FBI. Hoover may start out as a relatively idealistic man but it doesn’t take long for the fame and the power to go to his head.

Hoover (now played by Broderick Crawford) serves a number of Presidents, each one worse the one who proceeded him. Franklin Delano Roosevelt (Howard Da Silva) is an avuncular despot while the Kennedy brothers (William Jordan as John and Michael Parks as Bobby) are two rich brats who think that they can control Hoover but who soon discover that Hoover is far more clever than they realize. Hoover finds himself a man out-of-place in the 60s and the 70s, Suddenly, he’s no longer everyone’s hero and people are starting to view the FBI as being not a force for law enforcement but instead an instrument of oppression.

Through it all, Hoover remains an enigma. He demands a lot of from his agents but he resents them if they’re too successful. Melvin Purvis (Michael Sacks) might find fame for leading the manhunt that took down Dillinger but he’s driven to suicide by Hoover’s cruel treatment. Unlike Clint Eastwood’s film about Hoover, The Private Files of J. Edgar Hoover suggests that Hoover was not gay but that instead, that he was so repressed that he was essentially asexual. When one woman throws herself at him, he accuses her of being a subversive and demands to know how anyone could find him attractive. He’s closest to his mother and when she dies, he shuts off his emotions. His own power, for better and worse, becomes the one thing that he loves. He’s married to the FBI and he often behaves like an abusive spouse.

The Private Files of J. Edgar Hoover is an interesting film. It’s an attempt to do a huge American epic on a less than epic budget. At the start of the film, the low budget is undeniably distracting. The 1920s are essentially represented by a back lot and two old cars. The scenes of the FBI dealing with gangsters like Dillinger and Creepy Karpis feel awkward and slapdash. But, as the film’s timeline gets closer to what was then the modern era, the film’s story tightens up and so does Larry Cohen’s direction. (One get the feeling that Cohen was, perhaps understandably, more interested in the Hoover of the 60s and the 70s than the Hoover of the 20s and 30s. There’s a sharpness to the second half of the movie that is just missing from the first half.) Broderick Crawford gives a chilling performance as a man who is determined to hold onto his power, just for the sake of having it. The scenes were Hoover and Bobby Kennedy snap at each other have a charge that’s missing from the first half of the film. Michael Parks does a great job portraying RFK as basically being a spoiled jerk while Crawford seems to relish the chance to play up the resentful, bitter old man aspects of Hoover’s personality. The film ultimately suggests that whether the audience previously admired RFK or whether they previously admired Hoover, they were all essentially duped.

Though the film never quite overcomes the limits of its low budget, it works well as a secret history of the United States. In 1977, it undoubtedly took guts to make a film that portrayed Roosevelt and Kennedy as being as bad as Nixon and Johnson. (It would probably even take guts today. One need only rewatch something like The Butler or Hyde Park on Hudson to see the ludicrous lengths Hollywood will go to idealize presidents like Kennedy and dictators like FDR.) While this film certainly doesn’t defend J. Edgar Hoover’s excesses, it often suggests that the president he served under were just as bad, if not even worse. In the end, it becomes a portrait of not only how power corrupts but also why things don’t change, regardless of who is nominally in charge. In the end the film’s villain is not J. Edgar Hoover. Instead, the film’s villain is the system that created and then enabled him. The man may be dead but the system remains.

Previous entries in the 18 Days of Paranoia:

Lisa Reviews An Oscar Winner: Gentleman’s Agreement (dir by Elia Kazan)

Posted on January 12, 2020 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Earlier today, as I was watching the 1947 film, Gentleman’s Agreement, I found myself thinking about a conversation that I had in 2006.

This was when I was in college. I was having lunch with some friends from one of my classes. As we were eating, the conversation turned to the war in Iraq. That, in itself, was not surprising because, in 2006, it seemed like every conversation somehow turned to what was happening in the Middle East.

One of the people with whom I was having lunch was Olivia, self-styled intellectual who fancied herself as the most knowledgeable person on campus. To be honest, I can’t think of anyone who liked her that much but she had a skill for subtly weaseling her way into almost every conversation. She was one of those incredibly pretentious types who started every sentence with “Actually….” and who had embraced Marxism with the shallow vapidness of someone who had grown up in Highland Park and who would never have to struggle to pay a bill.

On that day, Olivia announced to us all that the only reason we were in Iraq was because we were doing the bidding of Israeli lobbyists and then she went on to talk about how 9-11 was an inside job. She repeated the old lie about Jews calling in sick on 9-11 and claimed that five MOSSAD agents were arrested in New York for celebrating after the collapse of the Twin Towers.

After Olivia said this, there was the briefest silence as everyone else tried to figure out how to react. Finally, someone tried to change the subject by making a joke about our professor. Realizing the no one was going to openly disagree with Olivia and risk an argument, I said, “That’s not true.”

“What’s not true?” Olivia asked.

“About Jewish people calling in sick on 9-11 and celebrating after the Towers fell. That’s not true.”

Olivia looked a little bit surprised that she was being openly challenged. Finally, she said, in a surprisingly sincere tone of voice, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were Jewish.”

I’m not Jewish. I’m Irish-Italian-Spanish and pretty much all of my immediate ancestors were Catholic. But, as far as Olivia was concerned, I had to be Jewish because why else would I object to her repeating an anti-Semitic conspiracy theory? When she apologized (and, make no mistake, there was not a hint of sarcasm in her tone when she said she was sorry), it wasn’t for being a bigot. Instead, it was for being a bigot in front of the “wrong” person. It didn’t occur to her that I was upset because what she said was bullshit.

Anyway, I wish I could say that I threw a drink in Olivia’s face or that I stood up on the table and delivered an impassioned speech but, once again, the other people at the table hastily changed the subject. Anything to avoid a conflict, I suppose. That was the last time I ever had a conversation with Olivia. For the rest of the semester, I ignored her and I felt pretty proud of myself for shunning her. It’s only been recently that I realized that Olivia also didn’t really make any effort to really talk to me after that conversation. I shunned her because of her bigotry and I can only assume that she shunned me because of her misconception about my ancestry.

Gentleman’s Agreement is about a Gentile reporter named Phillip Green (Gregory Peck) who, while researching a story about anti-Semitism, poses as a Jew and discovers that the world is full of people like Olivia. His own fiancee, a self-declared liberal named Kathy (Dorothy McGuire), reacts to Phil’s plan by asking him, “But you’re not really Jewish …. are you?” By the simple act of telling everyone that his last name is actually “Greenberg,” Phil discovers that he suddenly can’t get a hotel reservation. People stop returning his calls. When he and Kathy have an engagement party in a wealthy community in Connecticut, many of Kathy’s friends stay away. (Kathy, meanwhile, begs Phil to let her tell her family that she’s not actually engaged to a Jew.) When Phil’s son, Tommy (Dean Stockwell), is harassed at school, Phil is shocked to hear Kathy tell Tommy that he shouldn’t listen to the bullies not because they’re a bunch of bigots but because “you’re not actually Jewish.”

Meanwhile, Phil’s friend, Dave Goldman (John Garfield), has returned from serving in World War II, just to discover that he can’t even rent a home for his family because many landlords refuse to rent to Jews. When Phil learns that Katy owns a vacant cottage, he suggests that she rent it out to Dave. Despite her sympathy for Dave, Kathy is shocked at the suggestion. What will the neighbors think?

Gentleman’s Agreement was produced by Darryl F. Zanuck, who took on the project after he was refused membership in the Los Angeles Country Club because the membership committee assumed that Zanuck was Jewish. It was considered to be quite a controversial film in 1947, as it not only dealt with American prejudice but it also called out two prominent elected anti-Semites — Sen. Theodore Bilbo and Rep. John E. Rankin — by name. Zanuck often claimed that the other studio moguls asked him to abandon the project, saying that a film would only inspire more of what it was trying to condemn. Still, Zanuck stuck with the project and it was not only a box office hit but it also won the Oscar for Best Picture.

Seen today, Gentleman’s Agreement has its flaws. In the lead role, Gregory Peck is a bit of a stiff and Elia Kazan’s directs in an efficient but bland manner. Because this film was made in 1947 and a happy ending was a must, Kathy is given a rather convenient opportunity at redemption. The film’s most compelling performers — John Garfield, Celeste Holm, and June Havoc (playing Phil’s Jewish secretary, who had to change her last name before anyone would even consider hiring her) — are often underused.

And yet, with all that in mind, Gentleman’s Agreement is still a very effective film. Gentleman’s Agreement understand that there’s more to prejudice than just the morons who go to rallies or the degenerates who shout slurs across the street. Gentleman’s Agreement understands that, for prejudice to thrive, it also needs people like Kathy or Olivia, people who have that prejudice so ingrained in their system that they don’t even think twice about it and Dorothy McGuire does a very good job of playing a self-satisfied liberal who is blind to her own prejudice. Gentleman’s Agreement understands that bigotry isn’t just about the openly hateful. It’s also about the people who silently tolerate it and who refuse to stand up against it. It’s about the people who respond to prejudice not with outrage but who instead attempt to change the subject.

In the UK, one of the two major political parties has basically surrendered itself to anti-Semitism. Here in the US, Congress can’t even bring itself to condemn the frequently anti-Semitic comments of two of its members. Elected leaders and pundits only offer up the weakest of condemnation when Jewish people are viciously attacked in the streets. When a man attacked a group of Jews on Hanukkah, many excused the man’s attack by trying to say that he was just upset about gentrification. For many reasons, Gentleman’s Agreement is still relevant and important today.

Female Trouble: ONCE A THIEF (United Artists 1950)

Posted on April 3, 2018 by gary loggins

cracked rear viewer

I devote a lot of time and space on this blog writing about ‘B’ Movies, those frequently overlooked quickies from days past made on the cheap for the bottom of a double feature bill. Some are highly innovative, others less so, but they served as a kind of on-the-job-training ‘film school’ before there was such a thing. Most (but not all) of them have something to offer, whether a performance by a cast member on their way up (or down) or an early effort by a future director of note. Recently, I watched ONCE A THIEF, and while it certainly broke no new ground, I found it a tight little ‘B’ noir featuring in this case a female protagonist trapped in that familiar downward spiral.