Muscle Beach Party

Despite lots of musclemen in the supporting cast, "Muscle Beach Party" could maybe use some steroids. The first follow-up to "Beach Party" is a bit lackluster and talky, and the pacing drags. Frankie (Frankie Avalon) and Dee Dee (Annette Funicello, no longer 'Dolores') feud over another woman who's out to snare the cocky surfer-boy (when Dee Dee tells Frankie how selfish he is and that all he ever does is 'take', the movie touches on some surprisingly prickly teen emotions). But the witty lines and funny repartee of "Beach Party" have mostly been replaced by wan slapstick and too many characters (and too much of Don Rickles). Candy Johnson does her version of dancing ("Man, she's really got the power!"), "Little" Stevie Wonder sings "Happy Street", and the surfing footage is fun, but Harvey Lembeck's Eric Von Zipper is AWOL (there wasn't room for him, what with Luciana Paluzzi as a millionairess, Buddy Hackett as her manager, and a dozen musclemen lining the beach). Annette is lovely singing forlornly as Frankie paddles out to sea, but she's far too patient with him (in one scene alone, he makes up with her, then drops her, then makes up again!). Not the strongest entry in the series, but with a few colorful compensations. **1/2 from ****

Despite it's title, "Muscle Beach Party" is a pretty weak entry in Beach Party series. This time around, Frankie, Annette and the gang battle with a group of Muscle men led by their trainer, Don Rickles. All the while, an Italian Countess is trying to steal Frankie from Annette. Unlike the others in the series, "Muscle Beach Party" seems to have an overall negative tone. Every character seems angry at somebody. Most of the film's good moments belong to Buddy Hackett. Harvey Lembeck as Eric Von Zipper isn't around this time and he is missed.

No one sits down (or should sit down) to a Beach Party film expecting anything high-brow or even challenging. These are the epitome of fluff, corniness and escapism. Title credits play out over a kooky, mildly amusing drawing of various caricatures soaking up the sun and sand then the stars of the film (Avalon and Funicello) and their cronies are shown en route to the beach. Immediately, it's clear how times have changed as the teens are crammed into old-time convertibles with more than a few of the kids hanging onto the sides or backs of the vehicles with nary a seatbelt in sight! Without even stopping off to the bathroom to brush their teeth, the kids set up their patchwork of sleeping bags on the floor of the hacienda (with a couple of hanging blankets separating the girls from the boys!) As the gaggle of kids begins to surf and sun themselves into heaven, a parade of beefy, tan, oily bodybuilders comes out to strut their stuff. When the coach (Rickles) steps on one of the beach bums' towels, a rivalry is kicked off with one of the teens (Ashley) unwillingly providing the demarcation line of the beach with his behind! From a fancy yacht anchored offshore, heiress Paluzzi sets her sights on the most prime slab of body-building beef (Lupus) and enlists her helper (Hackett) to secure him for her. Before she can even recover from an evening in the considerable arms of Lupus, however, she's already moved on to scrawny, but cute Avalon, much to Funicello's dismay. From here, things get increasingly complicated (and silly) as the film builds to an all-out fracas at Amsterdam's night club. Naturally, it all works out in the end with everyone winding up happy. Interspersed with the shenanigans are several musical numbers, some better than others. Various songs come out of people's mouths while their sitting on the wide open beach, yet they sound like they were recorded in the bottom of a steel barrel. Avalon is as tan and boyishly handsome as ever, even if his character can sometimes be a real lout. Funicello has a few amusingly indignant moments as she lays into Paluzzi for stealing her man. Oh, and her hair moves once or twice during the course of the film, too. Paluzzi (at about the 12 minute mark on her 15 minutes of fame) gets to wear a few fun 60's get-ups and tries to inject a little feeling into her man-eating role. Fans of Rickles and Hackett may derive some pleasure out of seeing them in action. Rickles seems to get more opportunities to mug here than Hackett. There's a lot of eye candy for both men and women. Lupus and his muscular friends are often seen in TIGHT satin shorts and Ashley is always cute. Funicello wears a mesh two piece that shows why IL' Walt Disney was nervous to let her be seen in a bikini. No one anywhere, ever, danced like Johnson. She goes bananas in a couple of fringed outfits. The camera lingers occasionally on some healthy, nubile young bodies in motion. These films can provide some real surprises now that a little time has passed. For one thing, everyone assumes that these flicks are squeaky clean, and they are, but Avalon is shown smoking (Smoking!) Also, the lily white cast really tears into Paluzzi with all sorts of slurs towards her Italian background, continuously referring to pasta and pizza where she's concerned.

Then there's the ungodly product placement, which many people feel is a more modern hazard of the cinema. Every other frame has someone drinking or standing next to Dr. Pepper! As for the music, Wonder does an admirable job in his first film appearance, but everything that comes out of Dale's mouth is worthless. He can't sing and has no charisma at all. Future celebs Nader and Haggarty can be glimpsed in the beach and bodybuilder scenes, respectively. Lorre had intended to appear in the next Beach Party sequel but died before he could do so.

Perhaps unappreciated in its time, William Asher's 1964 saga about the tribulations of living jobless and care-free on California's sunny coast, surfing whenever "Surf's up," and dancing for no apparent reason at all (whether it be on the beach or in some restaurant), really captures teen angst during the sixties. Frankie Avalon shines as "Frankie," the glossy-haired, young, ambitious, and maybe a little naive, leader of the beach gang. His counterpart, "Dee Dee," played by Annette Funicello, gave an Oscar-caliber performance. Through a heartbreaking scene that opens with Frankie surfing at night, Dee Dee loses Frankie to an older, richer woman. During the entire film, when I wasn't laughing hysterically at the shear absurdity or chuckling over the image of a producer actually signing on to such golden garbage, I was cheering for Annette. Why Frankie ever decided to ditch his one true love is a mystery. Also noteworthy is Don Rickles' performance as a man-breeder, Buddy Hackett's role as the sensible accountant, and an introductory appearance by "Little" Stevie Wonder. This film comes highly recommended.

A tidal wave of a surprise here: Director William Asher, on hiatus from the television show "Bewitched," delivers a tightly packed surf romp. Very interesting twist: "Little" Stevie Wonder appears and sings two songs, one with surf-guitar guru, Dick Dale--and his Dell Tones. Cowabonga. And that's not all. Frankie Avalon is the hero and he smokes. And it's pot! (Watch closely for this.) Groovy. He also sings and swings with a bevy of beauties in Morey Amsterdam's coffee house. But the biggest surprise for me was the performance by Buddy Hackett. Controlled. Sympathetic. How many times have you left the living room screaming after viewing Hackett, sometimes wearing a god awful-looking Neru jacket and maybe appearing on "Hollywood Squares" or the "Tonight Show, talking some totally incomprehensible nonsense that he thinks is funny? Plenty. But here he plays his role straight and it pays off. And in spades, too. Wannabe Bond Girl Lucianna Paluzzi, always underrated in my opinion, is superb as the spoiled "Contessa." She nails the tiresome, hoary part with an effusive zest for life. Down on the beach, the enemy is massing for battle. The muscle men have a cranky leader in Don Rickles. He is clever and devious, but the strong men fall squarely into the "knucklehead" category. Strangely, one fellow resembles Kevin James from "King of Queens" on the boob tube. Donna Loren, always a joy and no relation to Sophia, wails the title tune. She has a soulful sound and a much better "clause" in her contract than superstar Annette Funichello. How else could you explain the fact that Loren doesn't have to sport a swimsuit? Funichello has to model a sexy, white mesh-bikini. So enjoy the sun and music. And away we go all you surfers and beach bunnies. Surf's up!