She Blogged By Night

I don't have a full-fledged post for you, but I have made some edits to past entries that I wanted to list here for convenience. Oh, and to get "The Maltese Bippy" off the top of my blog.

Turner Classic Birdman: I added a new link to a great and lengthy interview with Robert Osborne via Creative Loafing Atlanta. Also, I changed the screencap of Bob Osborne. Getting good cap of him was difficult; until you try to screencap Mr. Osborne, you have no idea how fluid his facial expressions are. In the previous one cap he looked like he was gritting his teeth to get through the intro and outro. In actuality, he seems to be enjoying himself and is clearly in on the joke.

Murder By Television: Did the most work on this one. Cleaned up the writing in a few spots, resized and reorganized pictures, added the poster picture and some "Further Reading" links. This was a post I originally made to a LiveJournal community called the_dingus, which didn't take off because kids these days don't like old films, and no one knows what the dingus is anyway. Durned kids with their bell bottomed denim slacks and hippity hop musics.


The Maltese Bippy: Dammit, here it is again. I've added another paragraph in response to Jack Pendarvis' accurate criticism, and a link to the rec.arts.movies.past-films thread about the film.

Added a new link to a really lovely article by Nicholas Kohler about the late John Harkness at the memorial post here.

Sh! The Octopus: After the post went live, I realized the final paragraphs were missing so I added them.

In The Background: Mrs. Potter: I edited this a couple months ago but thought I'd list it for the sake of completeness. I removed one pic (which showed up later on Unused But Loved) and rearranged the others to make them fit.

CREDITS:
The demotivational poster courtesy ninjaguydan on LiveJournal's film_stills community. Pic unrelated, as the kids these days say.

Picture of the dingus comes from this news article about the replacement for a stolen, genuine dingus, and was originally linked by me in this post about the falcon.

Subject line taken is an homage of "The Simpsons" episode "So It's Come To This: A Simpsons Clip Show".

This post not only contains spoilers, but due to the subject matter of the film, may contain items you don't want to read at work, at school, around kids, or for any reason at all, actually. You have been warned.

"The Maltese Bippy" is a stupid film. It is offensive, vapid, incoherent, and the absolute antithesis of funny. But I get ahead of myself.

"The Maltese Bippy" is a Rowan and Martin vehicle designed to cash in on the intense popularity of their show "Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In". I will confess right now that I don't get "Laugh-In". Perhaps it's my age -- "Laugh-In" was long out of production yet still tiredly plugging along in reruns by the time I was old enough to watch television. Most of the performers had gone on to be perpetual game show contestants in the mid and late 1970s, and I much preferred seeing Jo Anne Worley spazz out on "$10,000 Pyramid" than on "Laugh-In", where the audience howled at her flinging of a boa as though it was comedy gold. I admit to having some political qualms as well. When I was a teen in the 80s, I first saw the clip of Nixon asking the audience to "sock it to me", and I was appalled. Surely this supposed counterculture comedy knew it was validating Nixon and giving him positive publicity during his re-election campaign by allowing him to participate in the very thing that opposed him? I was somewhat reassured about my opinion when I read Vincent Canby in his 1969 New York Times review make the same comment.

Finally, what I've always wondered about "Laugh-In" is how two old squares like Rowan and Martin could have been considered counterculture. The show's political satire seemed unconvincing when coupled with the hosts' Vegas lounge lizard style. Rowan and Martin were, indeed, a seasoned whitebread comedy duo that did a popular but unoriginal act in Vegas. They were primarily skeevy woman-chasers in their act, on the show, and they carried this reputation to "The Maltese Bippy". Rowan's greasy attempt at suaveness -- the übertan, the tuxedo, the glamorous smoking -- made him ridiculous. When I see Rowan I always imagine he is actually a character played by Harvey Korman. And then I wish I was watching Harvey Korman do... well, anything.

Dick Martin is no better. My recollection is that he played the dumb guy to Rowan's straight man, but Martin isn't particularly dumb in this film. He says stupid things, but stupid in a "that phrase was never, ever, ever hip" sort of way. Just check out the poster; was "well, ring my chimes" ever cool? No. No, it wasn't. He's also on the make, marginally less sleazy but still far too old to be saying crude things to a college student. Rowan and Martin were both 47 years old when "The Maltese Bippy" was released.

The film opens as though it were a Cecil B. DeMille epic, with slaves toiling under a cruel master, Irving the Horrible. The screen then informs us that the film has nothing to do with Irving and is actually set in a cemetery in Flushing, New York. A woman screams, and then the INTERMISSION screen appears.

So do Rowan and Martin, who banter about credits and about the film we're not yet watching. Martin immediately starts in with jokes about the woman screaming like a woman in his bedroom did last night. Classy! The monologue ends with Rowan calling Martin a "doo doo".

You heard me. A "doo doo".

By the way, the title of the film has absolutely nothing to do with anything. There is no scene in Malta or anything Maltese, and "bippy" is never even said in the film, despite it being a famous catch phrase from "Laugh-In". The title is simply a blind riff on "The Maltese Falcon". This isn't surprising, as a few half-hearted attempts at referencing old murder mysteries is made in the film, but nothing substantial comes of it.

The film finally begins and we're in a business office, actually an ersatz movie studio. Rowan is Sam Smith, the director of porno films, and Martin is Ernest Gray, an actor in said films. Pornos and doo doo. Oh yeah, we are off to a thrilling beginning, my friends. One of the few funny bits in the film are the interchangeable backdrops for the pornos. The tiny backdrops which must only measure 5 feet by 5 feet imply absolutely no movement, no set changes, and no props. The pornos all have the titles, "Lunar Lust", "Jungle Lust", and "Submarine Lust". Later, Smith refers to a past film he made titled "Sherlock Lust".

While filming, Sam suddenly howls like a wolf. Before he can figure out why he did that, the owner of the office evicts the entire cast and crew and we cut to a scene elsewhere. A murder has taken place in a cemetery, and a woman at a nearby house reports being bothered by a man who howled at her like a wolf. Meanwhile Sam and Ernest ride in a moving truck filled with their meager film studio possessions. They arrive at Ernest's house, which is right next to the murder cemetery in question.

We're only a few minutes into the film and it's clear that this is going to be quite an uphill trudge. Rowan can't deliver his lines and Martin's dialogue must have been cobbled together from old Bazooka gum wrappers. The sets and cinematography are unimaginative and the supporting cast is rarely given anything worthwhile to do.

Ernest arrives at his house, which we learn is a boarding house for a young college student named Robin, a violinist named Axel, and Ernest himself. Sam also freeloads there. The police are asking the cook and housekeeper Molly (Mildred Natwick) about the night of the murder. The police detective is Robert Reed, sadly barely used at all in this film except to walk around in a noir-esque suit and fedora. His assistant is Sgt. Kelvaney, played by Dana Elcar, also woefully underused. While questioning Molly, Sgt. Kelvaney keeps getting irritated at her complete answers. Finally he starts asking Ernest questions which clearly should be answered by Molly, but the gag here is that Molly gabs a lot and irritates the men, so that's what they try to convey. Ernest makes cracks about how she's been his servant for years so he has to put up with her irritating behavior. Since Molly is simply providing much-needed exposition for the audience and isn't irritating at all, Ernest and Sgt. Kelvaney's comments seem hostile and unwarranted.

They are all interrupted by Helga, a next-door neighbor controlling her big, dangerous German Shepard. Helga (Eddra Gale) is a stern, large, Eastern European woman. Her only purpose in the film is to accompany the other two who live in the house with her. The actress is given no lines, she is relegated to the background, and is directly mentioned only twice, both times in fat jokes; Ernest says she must have eaten her way through the Iron Curtain.

The college student Robin Sherwood arrives. Where do they get these names? Robin Sherwood? I was surprised she didn't eventually marry a man with the last name "Forest". The police question her, too, and ask her why she's living in a boarding house instead of on campus. Two reasons, the first being her own personal dissenting from all the dissent. She goes on to decry all the "love ins" and the like. Maybe it's supposed to be a self-referential ironic stab at "Laugh-In", but it comes across as establishment wish-fulfillment. The second reason she doesn't live in a dorm is because all the "kooks" on campus want to sleep with her. Right.

Robin goes to her room and uses a telephoto lens out her window to view the German Shepard's collar, which has a talisman of a wolf on it. Ernest barges in to ask her on a date. She makes her excuses by claiming she has a lecture on female anatomy that evening, and Ernest can't pass up the opportunity to leer and make cracks about doing some "field research" on the subject.

Ernest's psychologist Dr. Charles Strauss (David Hurst) arrives at the house to give Ernest some psychotherapy and a shot in the bum. Hurst is, by far, the best actor in the film. His subtle reaction when Ernest says he's worried about this compulsion to drop on all fours and lick the doctor's hand is easily the funniest moment in the whole film.

Meanwhile Robin goes downstairs to snoop around, and runs into Sam, who crudely propositions her by asking her to be in one of his pornos. She says she cannot, as she has no experience, and he offers to teach her. Ew. It's also the second time that "experience" double entendre has been used thus far. Sam gapes at her hinder as she walks off and stumbles backwards in distraction; he finds a talisman with a wolf on it.

The next door neighbor Ravenswood (Fritz Weaver) arrives to ask if his sister Carlotta is around. He claims Carlotta is unbalanced and thinks Ernest is a lost love of hers. Helga is, apparently, Carlotta's keeper. Ravenswood also has one of the wolf talismans around his neck. Outside Carlotta (Julie Newmar) has found Ernest and is reminiscing about wild nights of sex, but does so in Hungarian so we can only imagine what's said. Newmar is lovely as always, but seems bored with the role and puts nothing into her performance. Ravenswood finds her and drags her, Helga, and the dog back into the house.

A prospective buyer for the house arrives. Molly desperately wants Ernest to sell the house, as she was happier working for him in his previous city apartment. The real estate agent explains the prospective buyer is a diamond merchant, just like the former owner of the house, and he actually knew the former owner before he left town.

Dr. Strauss has finally decided that Ernest is becoming a werewolf. He lists the characteristics of werewolfiness, focusing especially on Ernest's itchy, hairy palms. Oh, will the comedy never cease? They decide to trap the werewolf who bit Ernest by attempting a ritual involving horsehair and wolfsbane. Sam arrives and decides this would be a great act for a variety show featuring "chorus broads". When the ritual begins, Ravenswood, Carlotta and Helga arrive and tell Ernest that he is a werewolf just like they are. Except, well, they're dressed like vampires and when they knock Sam out, they try to convince Ernest to bite Sam's neck. I don't know if the confusion between werewolves and vampires is deliberate or not, I really don't. Sgt. Kelvaney arrives with the doctor who had been outside, laying in wait for the werewolf. Sam comes to, doesn't remember what's happened, and is still excited about the Ravenswood and company act.

That night Ernest has a dream about turning into a werewolf. Robin comes from her room down the hall and wakes him from his nightmare. Just then they hear a crash and a scream and go downstairs to investigate. Eventually they wind up outside and walk to Ravenswood's, where they see Ravenswood, Carlotta, Helga, and Dr. Strauss chuckling over their fake wolfman act. Ravenswood isn't a werewolf, Carlotta is dim but not deranged, and the doctor may not even be a doctor. They are pulling this act to scare Ernest out of the home, so they can take the opportunity to search for something called "Excalibur". They also note that Robin isn't who she claims to be.

Ernest and Robin return home just as Dr. Strauss calls Ernest. Ernest knows he's a fake, but he uses pre-planted hypnotic suggestions to get Ernest to strangle Robin. Ernest tries but when he hits his head during the chase, he's knocked to his senses. Robin explains that her father excavated the actual Excalibur, a sword made of gold and encrusted in emeralds, but the guy who bought the house they're now in stole it from her father. Then that guy disappeared and Ernest bought the house, but the sword is still supposedly hidden in the building. She wants to find it before Ravenswood does.

Suddenly a dead person falls out of the dumbwaiter. They call the police but the body has been yoinked by the time the detective and sergeant arrive. Robin then tells the police that Ernest had tried to strangle her earlier that evening, and Ernest looks betrayed. They both get hauled off to the police station.

Sam arrives the next morning, still thinking that Ravenswood is an act he can parlay into big bucks. Carlotta distracts Sam while Ravenswood and gang search the house for Excalibur. While at lunch, Sam puts the sleaze on Carlotta, asking her if she really can turn into a dog at will. She says she can, and this launches a slew of dog sex jokes that are just beyond revolting. Carlotta walks ahead of Sam while he stares at her bottom, shrugs and says, "What the hell, I can always get a distemper shot." WOMEN ARE DOGS. HAW HAW.

When Sam takes Carlotta to a motel for a quickie, he leaves for a moment to call an agent about the act. She says, "Ciao" and he says, "That's up to you." HAW HAW DOG CHOW. ALSO EATING SOMETHING IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

Can you tell I've lost it? Because right here in the film is where I completely lost my patience. But I'll calm down for the sake of the synopsis.

When Sam comes back to the motel room he finds a dog on the bed. It has come through the porch door while Carlotta went to call her brother Ravenswood for advice. Sam thinks it's her, and here we go again with the dog sex jokes. When Carlotta returns she's upset with her brother, so she tells Sam about the real scheme so he'll help her steal Excalibur from the others, and they will share the wealth.

Back at the house Ernest comes back from a night at the police station. Robin comes back, too, and apologizes for telling the police that Ernest tried to kill her. Except, well, he did try to kill her. This isn't funny.

The house has been ransacked by Ravenswood and friends, but they didn't find Excalibur. Robin admits that Excalibur is actually a 191-carat diamond and not the sword at all, although the reason for her initial lie isn't given. The dead body that disappeared the night before turns out to be the previous owner of the house, the one who stole Excalibur, and he's got some code written on his chest in blood. They search the house for the body and/or Excalibur but can't find either. We soon discover Axel the violinist has the body, he helped the previous owner steal Excalibur, and the blood code is a message from the dead guy to Axel, telling him that he swallowed the diamond.

Everyone wants the dead body so they can cut it open and extract the diamond. After some wrangling between Axel and Robin, Sam, and Ernest, Axel is subdued and Sam starts to dig into the corpse.

Today I discovered that corpse mutilation is just as funny as dog sex.

Anyway, Sam is interrupted by Ravenswood. Just as Ravenswood is about to kill them for the body, Carlotta kills Ravenswood. Then the real estate agent kills Carlotta, Helga kills the real estate agent, that diamond merchant who was a potential buyer kills Helga. Molly, the police detective, and Sgt. Kelvaney arrive. The police detective says he is from the motion picture association and he is arresting everyone for "excessive violence in films." All the dead people stand and start to file out when Dick Martin tells them to stop -- he can create a better ending than that.

Martin's ending is that the moving truck driver from the very beginning of the film is Robin's father, the owner of Excalibur, who arrives at the last minute. He shoots at Ernest for strangling his daughter but she takes the bullet for him, which is even creepier than apologizing for turning him in earlier in the film.

Rowan stops the film and says he can come up with an even better ending. In his ending, the police detective names the murderer (there's only one?!) as though this were an old-fashioned murder mystery. Molly is the murderer, and she admits it, while also professing her love to Sam and her jealous hatred of Ernest.

After that Rowan and Martin leave the house, and Martin muses that movies always end with the lovers walking into the sunset together. Rowan says no one is left alive except them, so Martin decides they have to do the walk themselves. They hold hands and walk into the sunset while the U.S. Navy theme "Anchors Aweigh" plays.

Ah. After a film of puerile, adolescent sex talk and full-on woman hatred, it ends with a gay joke. Terrific. I want that 90 minutes of my life back.

I have nothing else to say, except that I promise you the next few entries will be about movies I like. To preserve our sanity, it is the only way.

EDIT: I would like to add that Jack Pendarvis says I was too harsh on Jo Anne Worley, and he makes a compelling argument. I will forgive him for comparing her to Charles Nelson Reilly, who is like unto a god and cannot be compared with any human, but she is awesome and I shouldn't have brought her into this.

I also wanted to point out the rec.arts.movies.past-films thread on "The Maltese Bippy", which has been a great source of "what were they thinking" comments. Poster Grant Hurlock reminded me of a rather creepy point in the film: early on when you're seeing the downtown area of NYC, a marquee scrolls by with the enormous letters "MARTIN LUTHER KING JR SH". You don't see all of the last word, but it's probably "shot", and it's chilling.

FURTHER READING:
Living in a Media World on what "bippy" might mean
Shock Cinema's entry on "The Maltese Bippy"

Like most of my film entries, this post on "Sh! The Octopus" contains spoilers. Since this film has a twist ending, you may not want to read on unless you've already seen the film

For the entire 54-minute run of this film, I kept asking myself, "Self, just why did you ever want to watch this movie?" And the only answer I could come up with was because it's a longstanding alt.movies.silent in-joke. That's not a half bad excuse, and I know I've seen plenty of other films for lesser reasons.

"Sh! The Octopus" is based on two plays: "The Gorilla" by Ralph Spence, and the later play "Sh, the Octopus" which was a send-up of "The Gorilla". This gets a bit confusing, as "The Gorilla" was already a spoof of the murder mystery genre, so a send-up of a spoof is, well, overkill. "The Gorilla" was made into a silent film in 1927, and I should warn you that the review of the film by F. Gwynplaine Macintyre on the IMDb is likely incorrect - that reviewer is a prankster who writes reviews of lost films he claims to have seen, but clearly could not have viewed. (Whether his Wikipedia entry, home page, or any other information out there is legitimate is under question as well. I personally think he's the product of several cinephiles' spare time, much like the Andrea Chen troll on Usenet. I also suspect I'll be hearing from him about this post forthwith.)

The 1927 version of "The Gorilla" is lost and I have never seen the 1931 version, but the New York Times review reveals that the film has the exact same plot as "Sh! The Octopus", except with an octopus instead of a gorilla. Another version in 1939 starred the Ritz Brothers, and allegedly caused the trio to refuse to work until their salaries were increased. By 1939, this plot was assuredly well-worn, and one wonders if the Ritz Brothers were hoping to simply avoid making the film altogether. Instead they got their raise and a re-worked plot that invoked more than a little of Poe's The Murders in the Rue Morgue.

"Sh! The Octopus" opens with Paul Morgan (John Eldredge) coming to claim an abandoned lighthouse on a tiny isolated island. A Captain Cobb (I swear he was called "Greene" in the film, but the IMDb disagrees) has escorted him to the lighthouse, and warns Morgan of Captain Hook, a sailor with a hook hand who might arrive, and who is thrown into a murderous frenzy by the sound of ticking clocks. Hook (George Rosener) does indeed arrive, just in time to find a wallet of a famous scientist in the lighthouse - this scientist has invented a radium ray.

We switch to a car driving in the rain. Police officers Detective Kelly (Hugh "woo woo" Herbert) and Detective Dempsey (Allen Jenkins) are off-duty when a dispatcher calls in to say Kelly's wife is at the hospital giving birth. Kelly seems surprised by this. He's also nervous, so he starts taking a bunch of unidentified pills to calm his nerves. Meanwhile the car gets a flat, and while Dempsey changes the tire, Kelly reads a newspaper article about the new police commissioner going after the "crime octopus". The crime octopus is apparently a media handle for a crime syndicate, and there's a $50,000 reward for the head of the syndicate -- The Octopus' -- capture.

Suddenly a woman runs out of the forest towards Kelly and Dempsey. She says she is Vesta Vernoff (Marcia Ralston) and her stepfather has been murdered in a lighthouse nearby. She also says that her stepfather invented a radium ray and was murdered for the ray. When the cops mention the Crime Octopus, she says "the octopus" is in the basement. The two cops, seeing a chance to ingratiate themselves with the new commissioner by getting "The Octopus", head for the lighthouse.

At the lighthouse, Morgan is alone and discovers there is a dead body dripping blood and hanging bat-like from the top of the tower. There are no stairs left in the old lighthouse, however, so there's no way to explain how the body got up there. At the same time we see octopus tentacles come after Morgan from behind a curtain, but they don't grab him. When the cops and the woman arrive, Morgan hides behind the curtain, which makes no sense - the octopus is back there!

After a few moments Morgan comes out from behind the curtain. Vesta knows who he is, but he denies knowing her, which causes her to cry terribly. After Dempsey and Kelly leave to search the place, Morgan says he told that lie for a reason and Vesta should trust him.

Captain Hook shows up again, this time with another lady who had grounded her boat just off the island. After she arrives, hidden stairs up to the top of the lighthouse appear, but the octopus (or at least a tentacle, we haven't seen the entire creature yet) turns off the lights and a gun goes off. The lights come back on and Hook has disappeared. Then another person arrives, Nanny, a kindly old woman who has been Vesta's companion for over a year. Vesta clearly relies on Nanny for emotional comfort.

Dempsey decides to take everyone's wallet, and then sends Kelly up the stairs to get the body down. Kelly drops the body on accident, which gave me the first laugh of the movie -- the body is clearly a dummy, and I am not immune to the charms of a dummy falling from great heights. Dempsey realizes that's not a real body and the blood was ketchup (he finds a full, unbroken bottle of ketchup on the dummy, which is bizarre at best), but before he can do anything about it, Morgan holds everyone up and has Vesta take the wallets back. The dummy also has a wallet. How wacky.

Hook comes back, the light on the lighthouse comes on, and the octopus keeps closing and locking doors on everyone. Things really do happen that quickly in the film, and it has a very discombobulating effect. The humor is almost non-existent with the exception of a couple of one-liners and Hugh Herbert's occasional mumbled joke, followed by a "woo woo!" Herbert is almost impossible to hear in this film.

Finally Kelly and Dempsey realize that there's "another" octopus, a real one, and they're not dealing with the Crime Octopus at all. They decide to go into the basement to get away from some poison gas that is filling the lighthouse, but Hook doesn't go with them. Instead, he gets eaten by the octopus. Moments later in the basement Kelly sees the octopus through a sort of window thing that looks like an aquarium, although I think it's supposed to be a hole in the rocks that allows a view to the ocean. Meanwhile Morgan and Vesta are approached by the other woman, Polly, who asks Morgan to "play ball". He refuses to do whatever "play ball" refers to.

Dempsey tries to get the wallets back from Vesta, but she says she no longer has them, and runs in hysterics to Nanny. Again, no explanation. Vesta runs to Nanny several times in the film, always because she's been terribly upset, although I never figured out what exactly she was upset about. While exploring, Dempsey and Kelly wind up accidentally falling several feet to a floor below, which leads to the best dialogue in the film:

DEMPSEY: Where are we?

KELLY: Out in the ocean, under a lighthouse, with a lot of screwballs.

You got that right. Finding themselves next to a small pool, Kelly is sent underwater in a diving suit to confront the octopus. The octopus is not a particularly frightening creature, as it's difficult to see through murky water. I'm of the opinion that the murkiness was added to hide defects in the creature creation, but who knows. When they pull Kelly back up, they find Captain Hook now in his diving suit. Impossible and, most importantly, not funny.

They go back to get Kelly and pull him up, and Dempsey asks him what he was doing down there. Kelly mumbles something about a mermaid's husband which is obscured by some dubbed in "woo-woo"s. A disembodied voice tells the occupants of the lighthouse that the music they hear will be their funeral march. The only music I'm hearing is the soundtrack, but whatever - by this point, I'm used to nothing being explained to me.

Kelly is left downstairs to keep an eye on things while Dempsey -- the marginally smarter police officer -- goes upstairs with everyone else. While downstairs, Hugh Herbert is involved in an extended sequence with a bunch of animals doing wacky things.

Upstairs, we discover that no one is who they claimed to be: Morgan is an FBI agent, Hook is with the Intelligence Department, Cobb is with the International Police, and Peggy is with the Peace League and wants to get hold of the radium ray before it's used to destroy the world. Everyone wants to find the Crime Octopus. But is the Crime Octopus even involved in this real octopus... er, thing?

In the basement, Kelly hears the voice again. Then Nanny shows up and wants to look through the wallets -- she says one holds the deed to her family farm. When she finds the deed, she gives it to Kelly for safe keeping. They both see the octopus, again through an odd window-aquarium thing, and she encourages him to come back upstairs with her.

He does, just in time for the new police commissioner to arrive. This commissioner turns out to be Vesta's father, but we don't know if he was just pretending to be the commissioner, or if he's her step-father or real father, or what. Suddenly the octopus arrives and eats Hook -- again.

While everyone is off guard we get the one truly surprising and scary part of the film: Nanny is the Crime Octopus! She rips off her white-haired wig as her features completely change in a really well-done sequence that's genuinely frightening for a moment. Her friendly face turns into a nasty, mottled, grizzled countenance as she cackles and screeches at everyone. Apparently the creature octopus is under the control of the Crime Octopus, and as she backs Morgan, Cobb and the police commissioner to the door, they get grabbed by tentacles and, I suppose, eventually devoured. I'm completely okay with this.

Nanny Octopus explains to everyone left that they cannot escape unless they know which switch to flip on this enormous wall of switches that we haven't seen until now. One will blow up the tower, but one will let them escape. Surprisingly, as Nanny backs up near the door to the basement, the octopus grabs her and drags her away, too. Peggy, Vesta, Kelly and Dempsey run to the big contraption and of course flip the wrong switch. The lighthouse explodes.

The end? No.

We fade to a scene in a hospital where Kelly is on a bed, flailing about and being attended to. Turns out he fainted because of all those pills he was taking in the car at the beginning of the movie. Vesta and Peggy are nurses at the hospital, and Kelly points this out in a manner that's extremely similar to the final scene in "Wizard of Oz" 2 years later. So all that stuff that just happened? Never happened.

Kelly's wife has had her twins, and they go in to see the newborns, who are both actually Allen Jenkins in baby get-up, the implication being that Kelly's babies are actually Dempsey's. The look on Jenkins' face is priceless. Just like throwing dummies off a cliff, the old "someone else is the father" gag never gets old to me. But then a nurse shows up and explains that the twins aren't Mrs. Kelly's, they're Mrs. Dempsey's, which causes Dempsey to faint.

Now it's the end.

The dream/hallucination ending does explain a lot, but it doesn't explain the opening sequence with Morgan, Cobb and Hook, nor does it explain how neither Dempsey nor Kelly knew their wives were pregnant. I still prefer to think of this film as an exercise in surrealism, the filmed product of a drugged-up goofy cop. It makes me happy.

All in all, I can't say that I completely hated this film. It was bad, but it was still competently made, and that goes a long way in my opinion. I'm always amazed at mistakes and carelessness in a film that was allegedly done by a good studio, with a quality cast and crew. That happened to me this morning as I was watching "Alvarez Kelly" on TCM, and saw Roger C. Carmel's character had the worst fake beard I've ever seen. It was a noticeably cheap material, inflexible and crunchy, and was dark brown - Carmel has reddish hair. Did no one involved in this million-dollar film notice or care?

You could tell some care went into "Sh! The Octopus", however, as it had precious few technical problems or continuity errors. As insane as the plot got, you never saw an actor upstairs when he was supposed to be in the basement, nor were there any major contradictions. The set was sparse but decent, the creature acceptable, the filming and editing perfectly professional. After years of seeing indifference turn a decent movie into a poor one, I was pleased to see a poor movie become a decent one because of a little care and competence.

Before I sign off, I have a quick personal note I'd like to make:

You can find me on literally dozens of forums around the 'net: Usenet, InsaneJournal, LiveJournal, comics blogs, other film blogs, political blogs, Fandom_Wank, Ravelry, MySpace... the list goes on. It's usually obvious that the Stacia you see on, say, alt.movies.silent is the same Stacia here (that's me!) as I don't compartmentalize my online life. However, what I write on other forums is often quite different than what I say here, mostly in tone, but also in, er, content. My posts elsewhere may use language I wouldn't find appropriate here on She Blogged By Night, which is a space I try to keep work-safe and friendly to almost every age. If you don't feel comfortable reading She Blogged By Night because of something you saw me say elsewhere, that is entirely your right, but please trust that none of my colorful euphemisms will show up here.

FURTHER READING:
1000 Misspent Hours entry on "Sh! The Octopus"
Will Pfeiffer's blog X-Ray Spex - Has a great screencap sequence of the Nanny's transformation
Apocalypse Later's post on "Sh! The Octopus"

Note: Due to Internet outages I didn't get around to adding the final paragraphs of the review until today.

Several weeks ago I decided to focus on movies that I want to see, rather than films I feel I "should" see. I haven't forgotten that promise to myself, but at the same time, I have a backlog of about 50 movies in the "should" pile. "Three Wise Girls" is one of these movies. "Three Wise Girls" is a simple morality tale about the sins of city life and kept women. It's mostly notable for being an early Jean Harlow performance and one of the last films Harlow made before going on to lasting pre-code fame at MGM.

Cassie (Jean Harlow) works as a soda jerk and is jealous of her friend Gladys' high-paying New York job. Cassie's mother says they make plenty to get by on, but when Cassie sees Gladys' mother with a brand new car, courtesy of Gladys, Cassie goes to New York.

We cut immediately to New York where Cassie is working... as a soda jerk. Same job, different town, but check out those Cupid's bow lips! A rich guy in a tux, clearly stumbling home from an all-night bender, orders some Bromo-Seltzer and frowns at the platinum Harlow while grousing that he doesn't like blondes. When Cassie decks her boss for hitting on her in the back room, the rich guy comes to her rescue in getting her last two days' pay before she leaves to find another job.

The rich guy is Jerry Dexter (Walter Byron), and he asks to drive Cassie home. She refuses, but as she walks away Jerry says a few random sayings, ending with "You don't understand..." as the scene abruptly cuts to Cassie and Jerry in the back of his limo, where she asks him, "What have you got against life?"

Er, what now? This exchange makes no sense. This cut is original to the film and not a product of the poor quality of copy I found. Copies of "Three Wise Girls" are easy enough for die-hard enthusiasts to find, but these copies have horrible video quality. You can see from the few screencaps I included here that this film is difficult to watch. Many scenes are so washed out that you can't tell who you're watching. However, the film does show regularly at film festivals such as Cinesation, the Riskin Retrospective, and Cinevent, and the print there must be better than this one.

Jean returns to her small flat and to roommate Dot, played by Marie Prevost. Marie is the best actor in this film by far. She has the best dialogue, the best delivery, and keeps "Three Wise Girls" from being total dreck. Prevost had been a leading lady in silents in the 1920s, but by the early 1930s had gained weight and was no longer considered sexy enough for the roles she used to play. Not that she was huge by any means. Chubby by movie star standards, sure, but not so large that she couldn't have had a solid acting career as a "regular person" and not just the "fat friend". Then again, we all know of plenty of lovely women who were held as examples of large or full-figured women, despite not being fat in the slightest: Valerie Harper, Vivian Vance, Jane Russell... it's no surprise Prevost was, too. What ultimately happened to Prevost was unfortunate and sad, a downward spiral of personal tragedies and alcohol that lead to her demise. I don't feel like going into it here, because what most people really want to hear about Prevost they can find in the crap-shoveling Hollywood Babylon.

Dot makes money by addressing envelopes at home. She spends her days fussing with difficult-to-type names and worrying about money. When Cassie mentions being fired at work for not giving in to the boss' sexual overtures, Dot wryly notes that a woman in that town can't have both virtue and a well-paying job. It's her plan to grab the first man that comes along, and Cassie should do the same.

Cassie gets a call from Gladys (Mae Clarke), who she goes to meet for lunch at a ritzy restaurant. She stops by Gladys' workplace first, an exclusive fashion salon where Gladys is paid well for live-modeling haute couture. Gladys decides to make Cassie a model on the spur of the moment, which of course works out perfectly, because this is a short 68-minute movie and time cannot be wasted on reality. After Cassie's fabulous modeling debut (which we don't see), Gladys stops by her own apartment, an enormous, luxurious place that obviously costs more than even Gladys can afford. When the slimy boyfriend stops by and hits on Cassie while Gladys changes out of her work clothes, it's clear that Gladys is making her money by being a kept woman for some creepy, lecherous old guy.

Mae Clarke spoke a bit about "Three Wise Girls" in her oral autobiography Featured Player. Clarke said she loved to look at Jean Harlow because she was so "pretty and clean", with skin as though "she was carved out of marble." Clarke also shows a bit of resentment, noting that while she had experience working in film and worked her way up in the industry, Harlow never had to "pay her dues". Because she was beautiful -- Clarke makes a point of saying she was beautiful but not talented -- she was made a star without having to learn the trade.

Clarke has almost nothing to say about Prevost, despite working with her in four films between 1931 and 1933. She blames Prevost's downfall on tragedy and the studios habit of avoiding actors who have personal problems, but then states she doesn't want to talk about Prevost because she only wants to talk about "happy people".

Clarke comes across as a bit snotty in Featured Player as well as in her character Gladys. She has a few lengthy speeches, mostly moralizing and hand-wringing, and her demeanor is unpleasant throughout. While Variety hands the acting honors to Clarke in the film, they still note her speeches are "stilted".

After making her excuses to get away from Gladys' slimy boyfriend, Cassie goes back to her small apartment where Dot is making dinner out of old leftovers. Holding up an aged frankfurter, Dot notes, "that's one of the finest little weenies that ever graced a paper plate. It's a little shriveled from old age, but of course you can't have everything." Best line of the film, folks. If you ever watch this movie, after this scene just fast forward to the end where Dot and Gladys have it out, because there's nothing else worthwhile to watch.

Jerry shows up at the apartment to take Cassie out. Cassie reluctantly agrees, while Dot has eyes for Jerry's chauffeur, played by Andy Devine. After fabulous dinners and a trip on Jerry's yacht, we see Jerry meet with ... his wife! My goodness, Jerry is married! We certainly didn't see that coming. Oh, no, wait, we did. My mistake.

Jerry's wife Ruth (Natalie Moorhead) wants to meet Cassie before giving her approval for a divorce, per an agreement she and Jerry once made. What is it with crazy marital agreements among the rich in 1930s films?

Cassie discovers Jerry is married when Ruth visits the fashion salon. Ruth decides she won't give Jerry a divorce. Cassie has to decide whether to keep seeing a married man or not, and since she loves Jerry, the decision is difficult. Gladys and Dot both pull at Cassie and have it out in front of her, arguing over how a woman in hard economic times should make her living. Gladys wants to talk Cassie out of carrying on with a married man, but Dot encourages the arrangement, pointing out Gladys' opulent lifestyle. A momentary wacky hijink occurs when Jerry thinks Cassie is already a kept woman -- he thinks Gladys' apartment and boyfriend are really Cassie's -- and he accuses Cassie of feigning propriety. Cassie dumps Jerry then and there.

Gladys said being a kept woman isn't all roses, and she was right, as her boyfriend left on a second honeymoon with his wife without telling her. She finds out by reading it in the social section of the newspaper and calls Cassie in a panic. Cassie gets there in time to find Gladys has poisoned herself in remorse. Well, thank goodness for that, we can't have trollops like her bandying about New York City. Society would collapse.

Cassie goes back to work as a soda jerk. Jerry shows up at the soda fountain announcing he's getting divorced -- via society headline, which is kind of tacky, given Gladys' suicide and all -- but no one cares much about the dead hussy, so all is well.

Wendy L. Marshall notes in her book William Beaudine: From Silents to Television that director Beaudine had a terrible time with "Three Wise Girls". The film was rushed through production and there were clashes between Beaudine and studio management. When the final product was released, critics didn't care for the bland morality lesson, and audiences stayed away. While Jean Harlow moved on to an even bigger career after this film, William Beaudine found himself unable to get work for half a year after "Three Wise Girls" flopped.

FURTHER READING:
1932 New York Times review of "3 Wise Girls"
Fallen Star: The Story of Marie Prevost
Variety Review for "3 Wise Girls" from 1932

Note: I wrote this several days ago and just today (4/1/2008) realized I never posted it. I'd gotten frustrated with Blogger's insistence that every carriage return was a double space so I stopped posting and completely forgot to finish. Oops. That's why the posting date is off, and I don't know how to correct it, also thanks to Blogger.

The first still of Harlow, Prevost and an unidentified man may or may not be from "Three Wise Girls". It seems to be taken on the set of the film, but neither this scene or the actor on the left appear in the movie.

March 25th is the birthday of our favorite universally-hated comedian El Brendel, who was born in 1891. As a rather belated present to El -- he died in 1964 -- we at She Blogged By Night have created an "El Brendel" tag just for him. Click it to see all the posts that feature El.

And as a present to my loyal readers, I promise to post less about Brendel and move on to other things. It will be hard, but with a bit of work and a spot of good weather, luck and determination and the love of a good woman, I think we can do this.

Group hug, everyone?

I discovered this movie in the most roundabout way possible. A few months ago I was on a quest to find everything I could about El Brendel and I stumbled across this film, which excited me more than it really should have. A bad 1950s B-movie with The Elster in it? Starring Chester Morris, the angry star of all those 1930s pre-code wonders? Available on DVD with another 1950s B-movie? Heaven! I must have this film! I ordered a copy and camped out by the mailbox waiting for Acme Delivery to arrive.

After a day or so of leaning against the mailbox I started getting pity waves from the neighbors, thus decided I should finish waiting inside. Waiting involved watching "Mystery Science Theater 3000", one of my favorite TV shows, so I grabbed a disk and read the label. The next MST3K episode in my pile to watch? "The She-Creature". Oh. It was a season 8 episode of the show. A little more hunting online and I found nearly a dozen blogs who have already reviewed and summarized this film, probably a hell of a lot better than I'm going to.

Oh.

But as you know, I was in a film funk for a while, and I thought "The She-Creature" would be just the thing to snap me out of it. I love watching 1950s B-movies, the stuff that filled the programs in drive-ins across the country, and this is one of the more competent and fun B-films I've seen. I trudged on and I have to say that I'm glad I did, even if I does mean blogging about something that's pretty much blogged out.

"The She-Creature" opens on the beach at night, where Dr. Carlo Lombardi (Chester Morris) silently ponders his role in the release of something sinister, something we haven't yet seen. The movie is called "The She-Creature" after all, so I doubt many people will wonder what Lombardi is referring to.

We cut to a swanky 1950s cocktail party. Don't you just want to jump into the screen and join parties like these? All those pretty women in crinoline skirts and big clunky bracelets, all those men in their dark suits and thin ties, sipping martinis in an impeccably decorated living room filled with Danish Modern. Beautiful. A lovely blonde and her date, Dr. Ted Erickson (Lance Fuller, best known as Brack from "This Island Earth") talk about the party -- really, when you're at a fabulous party like this, there is nothing else to talk about -- and Ted makes it clear that he's not comfortable around all these high-falutin' rich people. He's just a simple country boy from Ioway. A simple country boy from Ioway who is now a PROFESSOR OF HYPNOTISM, might I add.

Ted and Dorothy (Cathy Downs) go for a walk on the beach under the watchful eye of Dorothy's mother, Mrs. Chappell (Frieda Inescort). The Missus feels nervous tonight; Dr. Lombardi informed her earlier that something sinister is coming, and she feels it on the wind. Her husband Timothy (Tom Conway, brother to George Sanders) thinks his wife is being silly, especially when she continues to mention Dr. Lombardi's patient, a woman who can age-regress back 300 years to a past life.

Age regression was a popular subject in the mid-1950s. In 1952, hypnotist Morey Bernstein attended a party with housewife Virginia Tighe and performed past-life regression hypnotism on her, apparently for entertainment. Everyone was surprised to watch Tighe regress back to an allegedly previous life where she was a 19th century Irish woman named Bridey Murphy. Bernstein hypnotized Tighe many times and published the transcripts as a book called The Search for Bridey Murphy. It became a best-seller, and "The She-Creature" was one of the first films made to capitalize on the sensation.

While walking on the beach, Ted and Dorothy observe Dr. Lombardi entering a beach house some distance away. The film cuts to Dr. Lombardi finding a couple dead in the house, obviously the victims of a violent crime. Lombardi sees a large webbed footprint and seaweed in the house, gets a knowing look, and leaves.

Ted goes into the house to investigate and finds the couple. Some incompetent police arrive and schmutz up the crime scene with flour. When Ted tells the police lieutenant Ed James (Ron Randall) that Dr. Lombardi was seen going into the house, he somehow decides that Dr. Lombardi committed the murder, despite Lombardi only being in the house for a few moments. Ted should know this, and he also should have known there was no noise coming from the home while Lombardi was in there. Hard to wreck up a place without making some noise.

Meanwhile, Dr. Lombardi arrives at the local carnival where he has a hypnotism show, and where he also apparently lives. That's charming. No wonder Lombardi is such a sourpuss. A carny tells him the lady in his room -- someone he's known for years as a carny follower -- was screaming so he checked on her, but the woman was completely out. Dr. Lombardi warns him to stop snooping around. Foreshadowing!

Laying in Lombardi's office/stage/house/whatever is the beautiful Andrea (Marla English) in a clingy, sheer white dress. He brings Andrea out of hypnosis. She immediately objects to him putting her under hypnosis for so long. Lombardi has Andrea under his complete control due to his hypnotic powers and her susceptibility to hypnotism; "You've taken my soul," she says. Lombardi clearly wants Andrea but she, understandably, hates him and would leave if she could. Despite his ability to control her, he cannot have her.

Inspector James and Ted show up at Lombardi's just in time to see Andrea emerge from behind a dressing screen. She's wearing the tightest sweater imaginable, and Ted unabashedly looks straight at her breasts for several seconds before finally being distracted. James takes Lombardi in for questioning while Ted and Andrea go for a stroll. Before she gets far, though, Lombardi's spell prevents her from continuing her walk with Ted.

According to Alex Gordon, one of the producers of the film, Chester Morris was hired after a request to his casting agency for an experienced actor who would be able to do a week's worth of shooting for about $5,000. Originally Gordon wanted to cast Peter Lorre in the part of Dr. Carlo Lombardi. This idea came about because Gordon and director Edward L. Cahn wanted to cast veteran actor Edward Arnold as businessman Timothy Chappell. Arnold and Cahn had worked together previously and Cahn was sure he could get him, and they thought pairing Arnold with Peter Lorre would be great for the film. Arnold's agency agreed to the role but wanted Cahn to confirm that Arnold would do a small independent picture. Cahn tried to contact Arnold about confirmation, only to discover that Arnold had passed away that very day.

Meanwhile Peter Lorre refused to do the picture, saying that it was "a piece of junk". When his agent at the Jaffe Agency said they'd already agreed Lorre would do the role, Lorre fired the Jaffe Agency in anger.

Chester Morris eventually took the role of Dr. Lombardi, and was just one of many "old-timers" deliberately hired by Gordon. Jack Mulhall, who plays a small role as Lombardi's lawyer, was a silent movie leading man back to the 1910s. By the 1930s, however, he was playing uncredited and small roles because he was uncomfortable with talkies, at least according to Alex Gordon. Another leading man in very early silent films, Edward Earle, was cast as one of the scientists in Ted's lab, and Edmund Cobb was cast as the superstitious detective who works with Lieutenant James. These actors were in hundreds of films during their lengthy careers.

Speaking of old-timers, "The She-Creature" features not only El Brendel but his wife Flo Bert. Gordon loved El Brendel's vaudevillian act, and during filming they shot "reams" of stuff of El Brendel and Flo Bert. Almost all of it was cut out of the picture because it slowed the pace of the film. Gordon said Brendel was a nice guy, and he thought talking to Brendel was a hoot because he had a plain Midwestern accent instead of the Swedish accent everyone assumed he would.

Brendel plays the butler to the Chappels. We return to the Chappels house where Dorothy's father Timothy, a businessman, is enjoying breakfast on his porch balcony. Dorothy's dog starts barking when Brendel arrives with breakfast, causing Brendel's bow tie to pop off. "He gives me the yeepers," says Brendel.

Ted arrives at Chappel's request, and the two begin discussing the murder of the couple and Lombardi's claim that a creature from another time came out of the ocean and killed them. Chappel is an unscrupulous businessman who thinks he can make a fortune by acting as agent and publicist for Lombardi. Ted makes a lot of funny faces while trying to act like he's paying attention. Ted comments that he's trained to "fight stupidity", which is a really funny line for him to say after accidentally wandering face-first into a prop branch while trying to thoughtfully pace about. Ted asks if the public will believe Lombardi's tales. Chappel says, "They'll swallow it whole and they'll like it." Poor Lance Fuller is completely outgunned by Tom Conway, a solid actor who seems to be having a ball with this film.

Chappel goes to the carnival to visit Lombardi, who opens the door to greet Chappel before he even knocks. Lombardi is psychic, you know. Lombardi agrees to the publicity scheme as long as he can live at the Chappels' home. After Chappel says yes and leaves to start work, Lombardi hypnotizes Andrea and summons the She-Creature. We first see the creature here, coming out of the water in an odd double-exposure shot, and apparently covered in phosphorescent paint.

Paul Blasdell, special effects and monster creator for films such as "Teenage Cave Man", "Teenagers from Outer Space" and "The Amazing Colossal Man", created and wore the She-Creature's suit. The She-Creature was called "Cuddles" on the set and was originally constructed to look only vaguely feminine. It was decided to make her look more like a woman, so Blaisdell ordered that breasts be put on the suit. The next day he arrived to see the addition of two enormous breasts to the front. Somehow, no one ever worried that the breasts would cause a problem, and I guess they never really did, although to this day they are one of the most memorable parts of the film -- the creature is often referred to as "the mammary monster".

Blaisdell said the suit was comfortable and flexible, although it did soak up water and made it difficult to walk through the ocean. The night the suit was created, Blaisdell and a friend terrorized the neighborhood and scared a passing driver. Later Blaisdell lent the suit to a friend who wore it while walking to a party. He ran into a little girl who was so scared that she fled, tripped over a curb and chipped her teeth.


After watching the She-Creature emerge from the ocean, Lombardi disappears, but the creature continues on and kills the carny who was worried about Andrea earlier. See, I told you it was foreshadowing. Meanwhile, we're back at another fabulous dinner party at the Chappel's. The dinner party is full of more old-timey actors such as Franklin Farnum and Creighton Hale. El pulls his bow-tie-popping trick again when offering a drunken guest a tray of martinis; he's so surprised that the guy took two martinis that his eyes bulge and his tie pops off. Behind him we see Dorothy watching the drunken partier closely while Ted notices nothing, what with being self-absorbed and sulky and all. The drunk approaches Dorothy and we find he used to be her fiance.

Chappel and a guest discuss the financial merits of Lombardi's hypnotism. The guest tries to sound like some upper crust businessman but comes across as an inexperienced high school kid in a play impersonating of Cedric Hardwicke. Would any high school kid even know who Hardwicke is? Probably not, but I stand by my comparison. We pan to Mrs. Chappel and two twittering friends. Inescort is caught looking off-camera for her cue just as the camera hits her, and the two friends read their lines as though they just learned them phonetically 5 minutes ago.

El keeps showing up in the background of the party shots. What a ham! Eventually he walks to the bar where he and the maid, played by El's real life wife Flo Bert, do a little shtick about the drunken party guest. Everything they say is a one-liner and they deliver it as though they expect live laughs. (In the MST3K version of the film, Tom Servo makes a little ba-dum-ching! drum noise after every line in this bit.)

Dr. Lombardi arrives to the party, resplendent in an overwrought tuxedo and heavy Dracula-esque cape. Lombardi and Andrea go right into their act: "I shall touch you and soon you will be asleep," he commands. Heh. Yeah, I'll bet. (Ba-dum-ching!) Andrea succumbs to the hypnotism and starts speaking in a bad British accent, yammering on about various historical things from the 1600s or whenever this past life existed, answering questions and generally showing off her mad history skills. Lombardi also mentions that the creature is the manifestation of someone's past life from many thousands of years ago. He doesn't specifically say it, but it's obvious that it's Andrea from, oh, a million years ago or so, give or take a millennium.

After the act, Ted goes outside on the porch to mull over the amazing -- er, I mean "amazing" -- events he has just witnessed. The She-Creature shows up, sneaks up behind him, lifts her arms and... nothing! Aw, man. Andrea psychically intervened and saved Ted's hide. The creature skulks away and Ted didn't hear a thing. Later Lombardi finds Andrea on the beach. The beach scenes were filmed in Paradise Cove, according to Alex Gordon, but for some reason here the beach turns into a very obvious set in the middle of the scene. It's just some sand and plants in front of a standard grey backdrop.

There were several nicely-filmed scenes in "The She-Creature," however. Alex Gordon said these shots were not by the cinematographer Frederick West, who was known for competent but uninspired filming due to the speed at which he created sets and lighting, but rather created by Eddie Cahn. Many of the beach shots are quite good for being day-for-night, and the composition of a few other scenes was clearly worked out carefully. Unfortunately these scenes are random, rare, and somewhat mitigated by the sparse sets like the one that appeared in the middle of the beach scene.

The next day Ted does psychological research by donning a lab coat and horn-rimmed glasses, smoking a pipe, and fussing with some colored liquids in beakers. Lieutenant James shows up along with two other scientists, also bedecked in their scienterrific lab coats, to watch Lombardi hypnotize Andrea under super-scientific conditions. By "super-scientific" I mean "a set with random sciencey stuff tossed about." Lombardi makes Andrea's soul leave her body. Her soul, represented by superimposed smoke, is not visible to anyone in the film. Why it's visible to the audience, I have no idea.

Chappel continues to work on publicizing Lombardi's act, mainly by saying words like "loot" and "big chips" to indicate he's greedy. Lombardi is enjoying living at the Chappel's home because he gets to be near Dorothy, the young blonde who is supposed to be in her twenties but is clearly in her forties. Lombardi does eventually leave the house by taking the act on the road. We see the tour in montage, with one clip of Andrea and Ted in a car together, but with no explanation.

By now we know that the creature is one of Andrea's past lives, but Lombardi is no longer in control of it. He also may not be in control of Andrea anymore, as Ted has been helping her build up resistance to Lombardi; maybe that's what they were doing in the car. Ted has fallen for Andrea, of course, and when he lets Dorothy know she just goes back to her drunken ex.

During the tour a random teen couple making out near a cliff above the beach get attacked by the She-Creature, who pushes the car over the ledge, killing them. I think the shot of the car off the cliff is some old stock footage, as the car looks to be 15-20 years older than the film. Lombardi, this time dressed like a guest star on "Maverick", is questioned but denies everything.

In a show-down at Chappel's and on the beach, the creature kills Lt. James and Mr. Chappel, both of whom tried to shoot the creature but learned that the bullets didn't affect her. She then turns on Lombardi himself. Lombardi apparently releases Andrea from his psychic grasp before he dies. Meanwhile, the creature goes back to the beach, and Ted follows it out and tells the cops where to shoot. I never did fully understand why they can't see the creature, but they can't, so they randomly shoot at a creature they can't see which cannot be harmed by bullets. GENIUS. The creature runs off, Andrea and Ted are finally together, and the film ends with a huge "?", implying there will be more to the story. Don't worry, there isn't.

Not only is the movie a real treat for fans of 1950s B-movie flicks, the MST3K version of "The She-Creature" is a lot of fun, although I understand that the show isn't to every cinephile's taste. There's no good way to end this entry, much like there was no good way to end the film. Plenty has been written about "The She-Creature", and I recommend starting with some of the links below.


SOURCES:
Paul Blaisdell, Monster Maker: A Biography of the B Movie Makeup and Special Effects Artist by Randy Palmer

Science Fiction Confidential: Interviews with 23 Monster Stars and Filmmakers by Tom Weaver

FURTHER READING:

And You Call Yourself a Scientist!
"The She-Creature" review at Exclamation Mark
"The She-Creature" review at 1000 Misspent Hours
The MST3K Summary of "The She-Creature", episode 808
The story of Bridey Murphy

Once again, I have a lengthy absence to apologize for. This winter was hard on me and my family -- we now have a healthy, murderous, unending loathing for many species of bacteria and viruses. It's well known that a nasty flu virus really cuts into one's goofing-around-on-the-Internet time, however, it allows for a lot of movie time while sitting on the couch under 27 afghans and covered head-to-toe in Vicks Vap-O-Rub. So you see, it hasn't been a complete loss.

I do try to post several times a month, and I promise that I will return to that grueling (heh) schedule soon, perhaps even in a day or so. In the meantime, please enjoy the fine blogs on my blogroll to the right, or even suggest some of your own in the comments.

"My Little Chickadee" is a light, unpretentious send-up of the American Western filled with one-liners and innuendo galore. Starring Mae West and W.C. Fields, would one expect anything else?

The film opens with Flower Belle in a stagecoach heading to her Aunt Lou's house in the Midwestern town of Little Bend. The wagon is held up by the Latino "Masked Bandit", who makes off with both the gold and Flower Belle. One of the other wagon passengers, Mrs. Gideon (Margaret Hamilton) tells the sheriff what has happened and a posse is sent to rescue Flower Belle. That evening Flower Belle returns to her Aunt Lou's house on her own, quipping that she "wriggled out" of trouble and escaped... with some of the gold, which she says the Bandit gave her for her trouble. Oh sure.

She sashays upstairs to her room and her Aunt Lou follows. For some reason Aunt Lou, who had been walking and talking like a typical Midwesterner up until now, follows West while mimicking her exaggerated hip swaying. She does this again in the courthouse, where she's also dressed like her niece. There is no explanation why. Aunt Lou helps Flower Belle get settled in to her room, and moments after she leaves, the Masked Bandit returns for more of Flower Belle's, er, hospitality.

Mrs. Gideon happens to be walking by the house and sees the Bandit through Flower Belle's window. Flower Belle is taken to court the next day to explain herself and to reveal who the Masked Bandit is, but she doesn't know, as he never takes off his mask. Heh. She leaves in the middle of being questioned, and is asked if she's showing contempt of court; "No, I'm doing my best to hide it."

Flower Belle is sent off to Greasewood (presumably the town next to Slickrod, just down the road from Slideshaft) as punishment, and is not allowed to return to Little Bend until she repairs her reputation by getting married. On the trip to Greasewood City, Mrs. Gideon inexplicably rides the same train with her. Mrs. Gideon stays in Greasewood for the duration of the film, although I never quite understood why. She's not Flower Belle's chaperon or relative, to my knowledge, and I thought she lived in Little Bend. I suppose I'm not watching "My Little Chickadee" because it makes sense, though.

Another passenger on the train, Amos Budge (Donald Meek), a mild-mannered gambler provides some much-needed comic relief during this scene. The one-liners and innuendo are funny, but one needs some straight humor to break it up. Meek, as always, is a treat in this film.

Flower Belle's train stops to pick up Cuthbert J. Twillie (W.C. Fields). Immediately Twillie notices the lovely Flower Belle and starts to charm her. Flower Belle isn't impressed until she sees his suitcase full of money, and then starts to respond to him.

"My heart is a bargain today," he tells her. "Will you take me?"

"I'll take you -- and how!" she replies.

When the train is attacked by rogue Indians, Flower Belle coolly grabs a six-shooter in each hand -- they belong to Amos Budge, but he's no good with them -- and proves herself an excellent shot. Meanwhile Twillie goes to another car and encourages the young boys of about 7 or 8 years old to shoot at the Indians with their slingshots; this scene is funnier to watch than it is to read about, I promise you.

Attack thwarted, Mrs. Gideon wastes no time in telling Twillie that Flower Belle has a bad reputation and has been run out of Little Bend. He offers his hand to Flower Belle to preserve her reputation, and she takes him up on it, but only because of the sack full of money. When other passengers mistakenly think Amos Budge is a minister, he officiates a fake ceremony between Twillie and Flower Belle. They check into the Greasewood City hotel and take two rooms; Flower Belle immediately locks Twillie out of her room.

West is beautiful but quite subdued in this film. In "She Done Him Wrong" and "I'm No Angel", she plays her character broadly and with plenty of vigor. Her body sways in time to her dialogue, emphasizing her playful confidence. It's a style that clearly works, that allows West to both revel in and parody her sexuality. In "Chickadee", however, her mannerisms are downplayed and even her voice is soft. The swagger that accompany her double entendres are clumsy and unconvincing; in an early scene where she returns to Aunt Lou's house, she says her lines while stiffly dipping her right knee twice as though she was someone else pretending -- poorly -- to be Mae West. When she does show her trademark exaggerated emotion, it's often quite negative, as when she scowls after reading, "I am a good girl" on a classroom chalkboard. Several close-ups of West are edited to cut away just as her facial expression begins to turn into outright hostility, most notably during the opening scene when the Masked Bandit robs her stagecoach, and in a following scene on the train.

"Chickadee" was quite obviously a parody of the Western genre, as well as of Fields and West themselves. It seems as though West wasn't comfortable with the idea of her persona being parodied, despite her persona relying heavily on parody in the first place. In hindsight this flaw in her characterization is obvious -- "Sextette" and "Myra Breckinridge" prove the point best -- but in 1940 I'm sure that her performance came across as angry boredom. Author James Curtis notes that she once stated after filming ended that she "stepped off her pedestal" to make "My Little Chickadee".

Fields appears to have no problem parodying himself in "Chickadee". He repeats many of his trademark lines from previous shorts and films, my favorite of which is the brief anecdote of traveling through Afghanistan: "We lost our corkscrew, and had to live on food and water for several days." Originally from the 1935 film "Mississippi", it is used to good effect during a crooked poker game in the Greasewood Saloon.

I've never known what to feel about W.C. Fields. As a kid, I first encountered him on the 1980s PBS show "Matinee At the Bijou", a Saturday afternoon ritual in my home. As I was rather young, I didn't understand much of what Fields said, both because of the thick accent and the lofty language. I confess, somewhat shamefully, that I still have trouble understanding Fields. We turned on the subtitles during "Chickadee" to decipher Fields' colorful language, only to find that those who provided the subtitles couldn't always understand him, either. While on the train, Fields tells West that he'll be all she needs: a father, a husband, "counselor, jackanapes, bartender..." However, the subtitles informed us the last two words were "Japanese bartender." I don't know which is funnier.

As an adult I started watching more Fields films on the recommendation of many on the film group rec.arts.movies.past-films. After angering a few fellow cinephiles on ramp-f because I didn't much enjoy "The Bank Dick", I was convinced that I just didn't like Fields at all. But then someone recommended "The Fatal Glass of Beer" and it changed my mind about Fields. In it, Fields was everything fans love about him: funny, occasionally subtle, occasionally ridiculous, and thoroughly enjoyable. Because of that, I went into "My Little Chickadee" with high hopes for Fields' performance, and I am happy to say he did not disappoint.

As an actor, Fields is keenly aware of his persona and how it fits into this film. As Cuthbert Twillie, he never questions why -- or how -- the beautiful Flower Belle agrees to marry him so quickly; it simply never occurs to Twillie that he wasn't her type. When she keeps him from her bedroom, he again never supposes it's for any reason other than modesty. This innocence, coupled with his penchant for scamming strangers out of money in crooked card games, makes him entirely endearing.

Fields first approached Universal with a story about the laying of the railroad in the American West. While the story was nothing special, his idea of teaming up with Mae West -- who was no longer under contract with Paramount, as she had been fired over a year earlier -- was music to Universal's ears. Both Universal and Fields were very excited about the project. Fields worked hard for months and even sobered up for the role, surprising everyone, especially the notorious teetotaller West.

The story went through several versions. Fields' initial version was replaced by Grover Jones' sprawling Missouri-Kansas border wars plot called "The Jayhawkers." When Fields objected to the story, another story involving Fields and West as traveling performers was written, and when it was rejected, a third outline was produced. Fields vehemently hated every version and so decided to write his own outline, one where he and West were circus performers, but the studio flatly turned it down. Tensions between the studio, producer Lester Cowan, director Eddie Cline, writer Grover Jones, and Fields were so great that, when Universal threatened to take Fields to court if he didn't appear in the film, Fields shot back, "Come up and sue me sometime."

Meanwhile West liked the concept of a masked bandit, an idea from Jones' original "The Jayhawkers" script, and began to write her own story. The studio kept this from Fields while trying to force him to use a Grover Jones script, but as the situation deteriorated, they finally told Fields of West's script. Fields read it and was astonished at how good it was. He later said West was the only other actor who ever understood what his character was all about. Her version was the final shooting script, although Fields did add his own routines, some dialogue, and modified a few scenes himself.

Fields agreed to live up to his Universal contract but felt betrayed by almost everyone at the studio, especially Cowan. He ultimately had Cowan fired from Universal before filming started, although Cowan did retain credit on the film. Director Eddie Cline -- creator of Mack Sennett's Bathing Beauties in 1914 -- stayed, but not without almost losing his job to a friend of Fields'. West didn't care who directed. "A director can't really tell me what to do... other actors have to move around me."

Filming went pretty much as planned, although Fields' ad libs often made the crew laugh, ruining the take. West would catch on quickly and, on the second take, thwart or upstage him to keep the laughs on her. Tensions between the two sta