Dance Hall Racket

This endearing sleaze classic is another "film a clef" from the Grade Z mastermind of ROBOT MONSTER, BROADWAY JUNGLE and CAPE CANAVERAL MONSTERS. This pulpy exposé film is best known for the casting of the notorious Lenny Bruce and his wife Honey Harlowe, but actually they're secondary characters in this "dance hall". Lenny plays the henchman of the gangster-owner, slapping around anyone who tries to double-cross this dubious entrepreneur.

All things "Tucker-ian" are in abundance here: non-existent art direction (check out when customers want "to go to Hawaii", which basically means having some crummy palm tree put in front of their table while a dance hall girl smooches with them; that's the best set decoration in the entire film); badly overacted performances which go to the realm of baroquely cartoonish; impossibly dreary single-take medium-long shots in which you can view all the non-decor and the non-actors; and spare, washed-out cinematography only rivalled by Dreyer.

But also, DANCE HALL RACKET is perhaps Phil Tucker's most structurally challenging film. Not bad for a movie taking place entirely in a shabby set with three tables, a cramped generic office and a back alley (these limited locations also compliment the stagnant lives of their inhabitants). This "complex meta-narrative" operates on several planes at once. The time-old tradition of having a wraparound story is in effect here, as one detective explains to another that "shocking story" of all the crime and corruption in this dance hall, where we view scenes the detectives couldn't possibly have known, much less been a part of. Despite the known presences of Bruce, Honey, and everyone's favourite world-weary bad guy Timothy Farrell, there are really no major characters. Even the eccentric customers "wanting to go to Hawaii" take equal precedence. There is really no plot in this impressionistic study, despite the faint whispers of racketeering. I've only ever seen this movie on the video offered by Something Weird, and that print more than a few times has some small scenes repeated. Evidently, the reels were mixed up and someone stopped it, put the right one on and kept going. But leaving these moments in adds another bizarre touch to the screwy narrative. It's as confounding as anything by Alain Resnais.

By the same token, the latter incident is a classic example of how Tucker's filmography is in disrepair. Isn't it sadly ironic that the most well-preserved film in his legacy is ROBOT MONSTER... the film over which he threatened to commit suicide? Otherwise, the only remnants I've ever seen of Tucker's work come from some tattered composite prints. Phil Tucker is perhaps the last undiscovered country of Grade Z filmmaking. I mean, even Andy Milligan had a book written about him! Little exists in print about Mr. Tucker, and perhaps there are a few more films signed by him, that are collecting dust somewhere that need to be found. Because of his poverty row films, and the enigma surrounding their creator, his legacy remains a fascinating one.

This is a no budget film noir and while alot of film noir can pull off being cheap and good (like Detour and Highway Dragnet), this can't. Timothy Farrell is an actor who is like a watermark in these types of movies. Racket Girls, Jail Bait, The Violent Years, this movie. A departure for him was playing a psychiatrist in Ed Wood's Glen or Glenda.

Most I imagine by now saw this because of Lenny Bruce who stars in it, with his wife and wrote the original story and perhaps the script too. Proving it is more fun to play the bad guy, Lenny played the heavy's violent hit man. Really, the only highlight in this movie is toward the end when Lenny Bruce, in character, inexplicably takes his suit jacket off during a gun fight. Lenny couldn't afford to damage his suit since he was going to be performing his comedy act in it later that night.

This was made before Bruce hit it big by the mid to late 50s with his TV appearances on shows like Steve Allen's, so it is a nice curiosity. If you dont know who I'm talking about then the only people who will find anything to like about this movie are connoisseurs of low budget movies and study them like others study movies released as part of the Criterion Collection. Afterall, this is from the same director of Robot Holocaust. ROBOT HOLOCAUST!

Ultra-cheap flick from the Ed Wood school of film-making, this campy little gem will grow on you with repeated viewings. In addition to Lenny's wife Honey (the two of them get into a heated clinch at one point) the film also features Lenny's mother Sally Marr as the streetwise dance-hall veteran Maxine, who breaks out in a spirited Charleston dance at the climactic party scene. From the period when Lenny was working within the confines of traditional show biz, the film is sprinkled with funny ideas and characters (Icepick and Punchy). From the legendary Screen Classics production firm, which also gave the world Glen or Glenda, Test Tube Babies, and The Devil's Sleep. Well worth seeking out.

Dance Hall Racket (1953)

* (out of 4)

Before turning to stand up comedy, legendary Lenny Bruce wrote and starred in this film from director Phil Tucker who is best known for the infamous Robot Monster. Vic (Bruce) tries to rise from a small town racket to a higher up gangster but there's a price to pay. The viewer pays a price as well because this is quite dreadful but thankfully it's bad enough to where you can laugh at it. The acting, including Bruce, is beyond awful. Bruce is so bad killing people that this gets the biggest laughs but the death scenes are also hilarious. Timothy Farrell of Glen or Glenda? fame co-stars.

Timothy Farrell runs a waterfront clip joint, using half-witted hoods and b-girls to take the fuddled customers. Meanwhile, he has a few other rackets on the side. Lenny Bruce (who also wrote the script) is his enforcer. He also kills a diamond smuggler whom Farrell is having one of his girls roll to recover the money he just paid him. The sucker is outraged at the unethical behavior, and Bruce has to clumsily shove a knife into him.

It's a very bad movie where Farrell is the best actor. Certainly the awful dialogue, filled with non sequiturs and dully offered observations of the obvious don't help. Given the script, Phil Tucker runs a surprisingly competent visual work, but the only reason to watch this is because of Bruce. And even that offers no particular pleasure.