From his earliest days, Tommy Tucker seemed uneasy in the kitchen, especially if the door to the cellar was open. The cellar was larger than one would expect for the size of the house. The entrance was a “stout oaken door,” more suitable for an outside door.
The author tells the reader the cellar is one where “successive owners of the house had placed their firewood, winter vegetables and junk.” The stuff had piled high enough to form a barricade. No one knew or cared what lay beyond the barricade.
When Tommy reaches the advanced age of six and is about to go off to school, his parents decide it is time for their offspring to get over his fear of the cellar. They take him to Dr. Hawthorn.
Tommy can’t tell Dr. Hawthorn what he’s afraid of. He won’t fetch anything from the cellar for his mother, no matter how many whippings he gets. The doctor tells his parents to nail the cellar door open and leave Tommy in the kitchen for one hour by himself—in the dark. That will show him there’s nothing to worry about.
Thoughts:
This is a depressing little tale, from the father who wants his six-year-old boy to become a man, to the parents who find their son’s dread of the cellar an embarrassment, to the doctor’s annoyance with a little boy who won’t (or can’t) describe what terrifies him. I found it interesting that the author, a physician himself, made a doctor so obtuse.
Dr. Hawthorn has dinner with an old classmate, a psychiatrist interested in children, who perhaps supplies an answer to the problem, then goes to the Tucker house to try to prevent a tragedy.
The story leaves the question of what is in the cellar unanswered. Is there a monster? Was it all in Tommy’s imagination? Was Dr. Hawthorn’s friend correct? Or was something created from Tommy’s long and ongoing fear?
Bio: David H. Keller, M.D. (1880-1966) was an American writer, physician, and psychiatrist. During WWI, he treated soldiers with PTSD, then known as shell shock. He is best known for his science fiction writing, but he also wrote fantasy and horror. In addition, he wrote a series involving occult detective Taine of San Francisco.
Old Masson became the caretaker of one of Salem’s oldest and most neglected cemeteries after the former caretaker inexplicably disappeared. Generations ago, abnormally large rats migrated up to the burial ground from the wharves. Masson decided they had to go, but the usual measures failed.
Every so often, the gravediggers uncover their unusually big burrows. A man could fit in them. The old people whisper about something worse than rats: the rodents are mere go-betweens. The legend of the Pied Piper “is a fable that hides a blasphemous horror.”
Masson doesn’t pay any mind to this talk. He tries to hide the existence of the rats. If the townspeople peer too closely, they might see things Masson would prefer to keep private.
Thoughts:
Lovecraft’s influence shows through in this story. Kuttner portrays an atmosphere of lingering ancient, unseen evil, even if the things Cotton Mather chased down are gone.
And the rats. They’re not natural. They’re the size of cats. Masson tries trapping them, poisoning them, and, when all else fails, simply shooting them. They come back in greater numbers.
Kuttner depicts horror not as cosmic but as localized and personalized. Masson gets his just deserts.
I didn’t care for this story and those like it, whose main attraction is ICK, but that’s a personal preference. The suspense builds nicely, and there is some humor, but I’m still not crazy about it.
Bio: Henry Kuttner (1915-1958) was an American author of horror, science fiction, and fantasy. An early admirer of Weird Tales and H. P. Lovecraft, he corresponded with the author and had some stories published in the magazine. He was married to author C. L. Moore (“Shambleau”). The two often collaborated. Kuttner used many pseudonyms, including Lawrence O’Donnell and Lewis Padgett. Kuttner’s work influenced sci-fi writer Ray Bradbury, among others.
I couldn’t find a source that was both legible and trustworthy for the text. However, text is included with audio below.
What would Saturday night pizza and bad movie be without a bad movie? It had its moments, but it also had moments of ICK.
Plot:
Lindsey Lewis (Anna Kendrick) and her boyfriend Ben House (John Francis Daley) missed the rapture. Lindsey’s mom was raptured but was sent back, complete with white robe and number, after she started an argument in line, so now she finds herself with the rest of the family on earth to suffer the wrath of God or whatever is happening. She spends a lot of time crying and asking, “Why?”
The wipers on Ben’s car can barely handle the rain of blood. Six-inch locusts afflict people screaming, “Suffer!” Crows fly around jeering at people in obscenities. Fiery boulders falling from the sky crush many random people and things. One kills Lindsey’s dad. It was the worst day of Lindsey’s life.
Another fiery boulder crushes the sandwich cart that Lindsey and Ben started to make a little money. Out of desperation, they turn to Ben’s dad (Rob Corddry), who works for the Antichrist (Craig Robinson) as a pool guy. He promises to set them up with something.
The Antichrist/Beast shows up early with his son, Little Beast (Bjorn Yearwood). He falls in love with Lindsey and decides she’s the perfect vessel for his evil seed.
What lady could decline such a charming offer?
If she refuses him, he’ll kill her family and everyone she cares about.
Such a romantic.
Thoughts:
In the opening credits, it notes that “This film is based on a true story.” Um. I don’t know that I would take that too seriously.
The Antichrist is a former politician (I am biting my tongue) named Earl Gundy. One of the running gags is that he keeps saying, “My name is not Earl!” During an angry phone call with his ex, he screams, “Call me the Beast!” The Antichrist gets no respect. To rise to power, he destroyed several cities, including Chicago, and—much to the dismay of Lindsey’s dad—Orlando. His retinue dresses much like the Secret Service, lives in fear of him, and tells each other to say yes to him regardless of what he asks.
The Lewis’s neighbor, Mr. Murphy (Thomas Lennon), is a zombie (?) who does little but mow his lawn, with or without a lawn mower. Lindsey and Ben tell him how good his overgrown lawn looks. Wraiths roam the town, seeking not brains but marijuana.
Because killing him would only bring the Beast back as Satan, Ben and Lindsey hatch a plot to capture and imprison him. It is a crazy plan that should not work. It goes awry, of course.
At one point, Lindsey tells Ben’s dad, “[The Beast] is the most evil person who’s ever lived.”
Ben’s dad (who works for the Beast) responds, “Well, then, the most evil person who has ever lived is paying the bills around here.”
At another point, the Beast has his minions hold up a mirror so he can dance in front of it and ask, “Who’s a sexy beast?”
A couple of things stood out to me. First, this is not a movie for the kiddies. The violence and the vulgarity are over the top. Second, while there are some good lines and funny situations, overall, the silliness didn’t work for me. I liked a lot about the movie and enjoyed watching it, but there were times when it also made my skin crawl.
This is neither here nor there, but the title made no sense to me.
If you’re curious, this can be watched (with a whole lot of commercials) here:
According to JustWatch, It’s also available (with a subscription) on Prime Video (with ads) for rent or purchase Amazon TV, Apple TV, or Microsoft.
Title: Rapture-Palooza (2013)
Directed by Paul Middleditch
Writing Credits Chris Matheson…(written by)
Cast (in credits order) Craig Robinson…The Beast Anna Kendrick…Lindsey Lewis John Francis Daley…Ben House Rob Corddry…Mr. House Ana Gasteyer…Mrs. Lewis John Michael Higgins…Mr. Lewis
Released: 2013 Length: 1 hour, 25 minutes Rated: R
This black-and-white horror flick was a recommendation from my friend Tracy. She has yet to steer me wrong.
Plot:
Kitty Murray (Veronica Hurst) and Gerald MacTeam (Richard Carlson) are enjoying a vacation in the south of France. They expect to be married in two weeks. With them are Kitty’s Aunt Edith (Katherine Emery) and the about-to-be best man, Richard Roblar (Robin Hughes).
While Richard and Kitty are dancing, Aunt Edith asks Gerald if his uncle, Sir Samuel, would like to attend the wedding. Gerald doubts it. His uncle has locked himself away in that old Scottish castle for who knows how long. He tells Aunt Edith about his upbringing at Castle Craven. The castle has no modern improvements, like electricity or central heating. And his uncle locked him in at night. There is a maze on the grounds, but it’s forbidden. He barely knows his uncle.
The next day, an express letter comes from Castle Craven for Gerald. He’s needed right away and leaves immediately, promising to return as soon as he can.
Kitty doesn’t hear from him. Her attempts to reach him go unanswered. She then reads a death notice in a newspaper that Gerald’s Uncle Samuel has passed away.
Six weeks later, a letter arrives, addressed not to Kitty but to Aunt Edith, releasing Kitty from the engagement.
Kitty does what any level-headed young woman in that situation would do. She makes her way to Scotland with her aunt in tow.
When she arrives, she finds Gerald appears to have aged ten years. He’s not happy to see her and tells her she must leave. Kitty is hurt but undaunted. She’s going to find out what’s going on.
Thoughts:
The opening scenes of the flick establish its gothic cred: the maze with the “Keep Out” sign on the padlocked wooden door, one servant (Michael Pate) calling out from a window in the tower room to fellow servant (Stanley Fraser) to inform him of the death of their boss. As they are talking in the tower room, an odd shuffling sound comes. Is it a family ghost? Or something else?
Aunt Edith narrates most of the film. Oddly enough, she appears to be standing in the tower room, where Sir Samuel met his maker, regardless of where in the story she takes up her narration.
Another odd, disorienting thing is the font of the opening credits. The letters are shadowed, intended to give the appearance of depth, but they’re next to illegible to my old eyes. Color would not have helped. The movie was shot in 3-D, with prominent foregrounds and often distant backgrounds.
It would have been cool to see the maze in 3-D, especially from afar, when candlelight is moving through it.
One nice visual is the performance of three dancers (Bess Flowers, Kenner G. Kemp, and Harold Miller, all uncredited) at a nightclub our heroes attend before Gerald gets called away. The two guys throw the woman around like a sack of potatoes. It’s bizarre.
The castle is suitably gloomy, with the windows in Kitty’s room bricked up. What possible reason could there be for that? At night, she listens behind her locked door as an odd shuffling sound comes down the hall. Creepy.
The special effects are poor and transparent, but seeing the strings never bothers me.
However, I couldn’t buy the explanation. It was just too goofy. But what got me was what happened after the explanation. Maybe Castle Craven has indoor plumbing now.
Nevertheless, I liked this atmospheric little flick. Thanks for the recommendation, Tracy!
Writing Credits Daniel B. Ullman…(written for the screen by) (as Dan Ullman) Maurice Sandoz…(novel)
Cast (in credits order) Richard Carlson…Gerald MacTeam Veronica Hurst…Kitty Murray Katherine Emery…Edith Murray Michael Pate…William John Dodsworth…Dr. Bert Dilling
This is our latest Saturday pizza and bad movie offering. I saw it originally in college—that is, not recently. I thought it was hilarious and a biting satire, though frankly, I didn’t remember much of it.
Plot:
The cash-strapped (fictional) country of Freedonia appeals to the wealthy widow Mrs. Gloria Teasdale (Margaret Dumont) for $20 million to keep it from bankruptcy. She agrees—even though she hasn’t been repaid for the amount she’s already lent them—if the officials will appoint Rufus T. Firefly (Groucho Marx) as leader.
Freedonia has a new leader! They would be hard-pressed to find a more unfit leader, but the people of Freedonia love him. In one song, Rufus tells the people that his new administration will not tolerate graft of any sort unless he gets his share or “pop goes the weasel.” He forces out the competent ministers and replaces them with cronies, who happen to be spies (albeit bad ones) for the rival country of (fictional) Sylvania.
Rufus woos Mrs. Teasdale because she’s rich. He also insults her. In a typical exchange, he says:
Firefly: Not that I care, but where is your husband? Mrs. Teasdale: Why, he’s dead. Firefly: I’ll bet he’s just using that as an excuse. Mrs. Teasdale: I was with him to the very end. Firefly: Huh! No wonder he passed away. Mrs. Teasdale: I held him in my arms and kissed him. Firefly: Oh, I see. Then it was murder.
Also wooing her is the Ambassador from Sylvania, Trentino (Louis Calhern). He attempts to undermine Rufus by placing pretty spy Vera Marcal (Raquel Torres) in his view. His secretary, Bob Roland (Zeppo Marx), suggests getting rid of the troublesome ambassador by letting him offer the new leader an insult.
It can’t work out that way, of course. Rufus insults the ambassador instead. Trentino departs in a huff—and Freedonia goes to war.
Thoughts:
According to the wisdom of IMDB and dictionary dot com, “duck soup” was an early 20th-century expression for an easily accomplished task akin to “a piece of cake.” IMDB also mentions that Benito Mussolini apparently took the movie personally and banned it in Italy. Little too close to home, huh?
Duck Soup is a pre-Hayes Code film. There is some mild bathroom humor. The spiciest thing I recall is a woman in her underwear getting ready to take a bath. The creepiest thing is Pinky (Harpo Marx) stopping by to chat with her—until her husband comes home.
The Marx brothers came from stage and vaudeville. Singing and dancing interludes are part of the movie, but these are silly and absurd. Think playing helmets with mallet started with Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Nope.
At one point, Rufus says: “Well, maybe I am a little headstrong. But, I come by it honestly. My father was a little headstrong. My mother was a little armstrong. The headstrongs married the armstrongs, and that’s why darkies were born.”
On the face of it, that’s racist and unnecessary, but he’s referring to a song of the day written by Ray Henderson and Lew Brown, sung by Kate Smith and, separately, Paul Robeson. It is a lament and perhaps satire. Why Marx mentions it, I don’t know. Maybe it’s no more complicated than it was a line the viewers would recognize, something like “a partridge in a pear tree.”
Maybe it’s growing old, but I didn’t find the movie as hilarious as I did when I was younger. I saw misogyny in the way Rufus treated Mrs. Teasdale and the pitiful absurdity of rushing off to an avoidable war.
Toward the end, during the war, Rufus and some of his military brass are holed up in a barn. Rufus mistakenly fires on his own men. He appears in a different uniform every time he’s seen: American Civil War (Union and Confederate), First World War Doughboy, and Boy Scout, to name a few. It adds to the absurdity.
I rather like this little flick. It is anti-war; fast-talking Rufus is a scoundrel, the government of Freedonia is corrupt, and the people are easily led simpletons. That’s not a very charitable assessment of anyone, but it’s funny. And there are some truly just silly moments.
I could not find this streaming for free. It’s available on Apple TV and Amazon to rent or own, according to JustWatch.
Edited to add: With thanks to Tommi, the freebie is here:
Title: Duck Soup (1933)
Directed by Leo McCarey
Writing Credits Bert Kalmar…(story) and Harry Ruby…(story) Arthur Sheekman…(additional dialogue) and Nat Perrin…(additional dialogue)
Cast (in credits order) Groucho Marx…Rufus T. Firefly Harpo Marx…Pinky Chico Marx…Chicolini Zeppo Marx…Bob Roland Margaret Dumont…Gloria Teasdale Raquel Torres…Vera Marcal Louis Calhern…Ambassador Trentino
I apologize in advance. This is even longer than usual. The Stuff:
Author Blake Callens wrote this book in response to The Case for Christan Nationalism by Stephen Wolfe. It is information-dense and appears intended for a Christian audience—perhaps clergy?—who understands theology and American and European history.
All is not lost, however. Even an old heathen like me can read it and digest it. I detest anything that smells of fascism, especially when dressed in its Sunday best, and Christian nationalism is the latest flavor of fascism.
A few quick definitions: Christian nationalism views the United States as a Christian nation, usually because it was founded as a Christian nation. It isn’t, and it wasn’t.
Christian nationalists claim that it follows (it doesn’t) that Christians—the right kind of Christians (TRKoC), at any rate—should enjoy privileged places in American society and government.
No, they shouldn’t. Pretty damn cheeky to think professing a religion—even the right kind of the right religion—makes anyone special.
Author Callens answers Wolfe point by point, showing logical fallacies and revealing Wolfe’s misogyny, racism, and xenophobia. Wolfe argues that (in short) if (TRKoC) ran things, the world would shape up and fly the way God wants it to. TRKoC are justified in the violent overthrow of the present order and setting up their own Christian state with their own “Christian Prince” to manage things. Blasphemy should be a criminally chargeable offense, for instance.
Callens’s broad answer is that Wolfe’s utopia is fascism cloaked in Christian terminology. His assessment of the whole plan is summed up in the word at the end: “anathema, “that is, “cursed,” and worthy of excommunication.
I rather agree with Callens on these points.
Stephen Wolfe is not an idiot. He holds master’s degrees in philosophy and political science and a doctorate in political theory. And he wants Christian Prince…?
Thoughts:
Once upon a time, long ago, when I was young and innocent, I read Plato’s Republic out of curiosity. I really will read nearly anything out of curiosity.
“What is justice?” Socrates asks. His answer is, in part, that “justice” is a matter of staying in your place, minding your business, and not getting in the way of your betters.
Yeah, and the philosopher-king will arise, quizzed by learned men and women—at least Plato includes women. Wolfe has them at home baking cookies or something, you know, womanly—godly. According to Wolfe, once society is ordered the way he believes god wants it to be, an aristocracy will arise and, with it, a Christian Prince.
It set alarm bells off in my head. History has seen this before. Hitler—Il Duce—Dear Leader. It’s never turned out well but usually involved the miserable deaths of millions of innocents.
The parallel Callens draws is Franciso Franco of Spain, who called himself Caudillo (“chieftain”). Simply because the Christian Prince calls himself (it’s got to be a guy, according to Wolfe) TRKoC, will it be different this time? And you’re investing him with the power to punish thought crimes like “blasphemy”? And to execute those who refuse to stop proselytizing for “false religions”? I’m not taking that bet.
A lot of this book is two Christians arguing about Christian doctrine. What would human nature be like if Adam hadn’t fallen? I don’t have a dog in that race, so once I understood what Callens was saying, I more or less tuned it out. I care little about whether Wolfe’s stance is Christian. More important to me is whether it is humane, just (and not in Plato’s sense), and practical.
Callens describes his experiences of war in Afghanistan in often graphic terms. These are extremely difficult to read, but he recounts them for a purpose. He doesn’t want civil war in the United States. There is nothing grand or glorious about combat. It extracts a horrible toll, not only on the victims but also on the survivors.
Yet he states:
“There are very few things in the world that would cause me to advocate for, and personally return to, proactive violence. Stephen Wolfe and his compatriots attempting violent revolution to enact his vision would be one of them.” (p. 370)
There are several points on which I disagree with Callens. For example, “infanticide” is not legal in any state in the union. Infanticide is murder, which is illegal everywhere. Nor is it legal to abort a fully viable fetus. (p.83). Abortions taking place after viability (22 weeks or so) occur if an abnormality is discovered or if there is a danger to the mother’s life or well-being. These are often very much wanted babies, and their deaths are tragedies.
Get a grip, man.
I will warn the reader that this is not the most leisurely read. First, it is long, weighing in just short of 500 pages.
Second, it is dense. Callens writes in clear, understandable prose, but there is a lot of information to wade through. I have to hand it to him for making abstract topics comprehensible. He clarifies obscure subjects.
Third, he uses terms like “prelapsarian” (pertaining to the time before the fall in the Garden of Eden) and makes at least one passing reference to the Holodomor (the Ukrainian Famine of the 1930s, caused—perhaps deliberately—by the rapid industrialization and collectivization of the Soviet Union) without defining them.
Fourth, as mentioned above, the Gulf War scenes are graphic and extremely difficult to read. However, I did not find them exploitative or melodramatic. He wants to make the point that maybe war—and dying in one—is not so dulce et decorum.
Having said all that, I still think this is an important book. The extreme right-wing will always be there. These people think they’re doing god a favor. They’re not going to stop.
Police states exist. A certain confident naivete convinces us that it can’t happen here, even if the chances are low that it will happen next week.
Eternal vigilance.
As for recommending the book, I think the audience is small. It is not a casual read. But if the topic interests you, by all means, check it out.
Title: The Case Against Christian Nationalism: An Expository Commentary on Stephen Wolfe’s Book Author: Blake Callens First published: 2024
Full disclosure: author Alex Diaz-Granados and I have been net buddies for (is it possible?) nearly twenty years, first becoming acquainted at the now-defunct site Epinions, lo, these many years ago.
Plot:
Jim Garraty’s dream of becoming a history professor at a prestigious university has come true. He has some well-regarded publications under his belt and is working on the next one.
However, he’s still hurting from his recent divorce. And then comes the phone call from his old high school pal. Marty—the girl he loved back in the day—has died in a car crash. One of Jim’s greatest regrets is that he never told Marty he cared for her. Would romance have come of it? Or even friendship? It’s too late to know now.
Thoughts:
Jim’s story is told in a series of flashbacks and returns to the present. The reader follows him through the last few days of high school when he had the chance to speak to Marty— but didn’t.
It’s a lyrical tale of regret for chances not taken, told in dreams and memories. It speaks to anyone who has been to high school and anyone who remembers the one who got away.
This pleasant, if bittersweet, novella is short enough to read in one sitting.
Our Saturday pizza and bad movie night was a bit different.
Plot:
Dr. Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) runs a strapped-for-cash traveling acting troupe. The troupe consists of Parnassus’s daughter, Valentina (Lily Cole), the barker Anton (Andrew Garfield), and Percy (Verne Troyer), Parnassus’s assistant. They live and travel in a horse-drawn carriage that is a mash-up of an old-fashioned London double-decker bus and a wooden sailing ship.
Aside from acrobatic and sleight-of-hand performances, the great attraction in their show is the “imaginarium,” a magic place accessed through a mirror at the back of the stage where dreams come true. The person must make a choice: the easy road of indulgence or the hard road.
Dr. Parnanssus has made a deal with the Devil, known as Mr. Nick (Tom Waits). In fact, he’s made several. He can’t stop making deals. His first was to become immortal. After a thousand years, he fell in love with a woman and wished to be mortal again. The price he paid was that any child he fathered would belong to Mr. Nick on their sixteenth birthday.
Valentina will be sixteen in a couple of days.
While the troupe is traveling over a bridge in their wagon/ship/bus, Valentina sees a shadow on the water of a hanged man. Dr. Parnassus has drawn a tarot card of a hanged man; he knows this is a sign, but of what?
They are able to release the man and revive him. He remembers nothing. Valentina decides to call him George (Heath Ledger).
Mr. Nick approaches Dr. Parnassus with George’s real identity, Tony Shepherd (but withholds relevant information). He offers the doctor another bargain: he who can win five new souls by Valentina’s birthday gets to keep her.
Has Dr. Parnassus ever said no?
Thoughts:
The visuals in this were stunning, from start to finish. As with so many of Terry Gilliam’s films, it provides a rich fantasyland of things that can’t be but nevertheless are. It’s not all pretty. There are some dark and blighted scenes. Of course, a bird takes a sizeable dump on the impeccably dressed Mr. Nick.
The movie is primarily about storytelling, however. Storytelling is what makes us human. It allows us to preserve and adapt culture. Early in his life, Dr. Parnassus led a group of monks in chanting. Mr. Nick sought to interrupt the story by silencing the individual monks. Dr. Parnassus laughed. Even if the monks are silent, someone somewhere is telling a story. Not even Mr. Nick can stop that.
And so begins the story of Dr. Parnassus and Mr. Nick.
There is a great deal of sadness in the story of the movie. It’s not a Greek tragedy, but it’s still sad. Very little is what it appears to be. When we leave the stage, the story goes on.
There was sadness in real life, also. Heath Ledger, who played Tony Shepherd, died of an overdose during filming. Three other actors—Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell—stepped in to finish the filming.
It’s hard to say how I felt about this film other than awed and saddened at the same time. If you like dark fantasy, this should work for you.
The film was nominated for twenty-three awards, including two Oscar nominations. It received two awards: one for the 2009 Best Costume Design from the Satellite Awards (Los Angeles) and one for Best Costume Design in a Feature Length film from the Leo Awards (Vancouver, BC, Canada).
According to Justwatch, this is only available for rent or to buy from places like Amazon or Apple TV, among other places.
Title: The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (2009)
Directed by Terry Gilliam
Writing Credits Terry Gilliam…(written by) & Charles McKeown… (written by)
Cast (in credits order) Andrew Garfield…Anton Christopher Plummer…Doctor Parnassus Richard Riddell…Martin Katie Lyons…Martin’s Girlfriend Richard Shanks…Friend of Martin Lily Cole…Valentina Verne Troyer…Percy
We were in the mood for silliness for our Saturday pizza and bad movie night. We got it.
Plot:
In Beirut (where else?) Idi Amin, Muammar Gaddafi, Ayatollah Khomeini, Yasser Arafat, and Mikhail Gorbachev (Prince Hughes, Robert LuJane, Charles Gherardi, David Katz, David Lloyd Austin), among others, sit around a conference table trying to come up with a scheme to humiliate the United States.
“They believe I’m a nice guy,” Gorbachev says.
The guy pouring hot tea attacks and subdues the group, throwing Idi Amin out the window. He knocks off Khomeini’s turban, revealing that Iran’s supreme leader wears an orange mohawk.
“Who are you?” someone off-camera asks while most of the perceived greatest enemies of the United States lie around the room, moaning.
“I’m Lieutenant Frank Drebin, Police Squad,” the vanquisher (Leslie Nielsen) says. “And don’t ever let me catch you guys in America.” He makes a grand exit then, slamming into a swinging door.
(So, Police Squad has jurisdiction in Beirut…?)
This sums up the spirit of the whole movie.
At the same time, Drebin’s partner and friend, Det. Nordberg (O.J. Simpson) investigates a heroin smuggling operation aboard a boat called I Love You. He’s shot repeatedly by a room full of bad’uns and tossed into the ocean. Later, while he’s recovering in the hospital, the viewer is told that, luckily, those shots missed every vital organ.
Frank questions the ship’s owner, the uber-wealthy Vincent Ludwig (Ricardo Montalbán), wreaks a little havoc, and falls for Ludwig’s gorgeous secretary, Jane Spencer (Priscilla Presley).
The viewer later learns that Ludwig has perfected a technique for making trained assassins out of anyone by post-hypnotic suggestion invoked by a clicker—not some cool code word, but a clicker. This is important because Queen Elizabeth of Great Britain (Jeannette Charles) is coming to town and will attend a baseball game in Los Angeles. It will be the duty of the Police Squad to protect her.
What could go wrong?
Thoughts:
This is the first of now four movies made from a short-lived TV series, Police Squad, a parody of police procedures, that aired in 1982. The cops are incompetent but somehow always get their man. The film relies on slapstick, non sequitur dialogue, and juvenile sexual innuendo for humor. Mostly, it’s just silly.
When Frank visits Nordberg in the hospital, he finds him banged up and loaded with painkillers. Nordberg mumbles, “I Love You”—the name of the ship where he was attacked.
“I love you too,” Frank tells him.
Curt Gowdy, Jim Palmer, Tim McCarver, Mel Allen, Dick Enberg, and Dick Vitale appear as play-by-play as themselves as commentators along with Dr. Joyce Brothers. Other cameos include Reggie Jackson and Weird Al Yankovic.
The bad guy meets a fitting end. Without giving away the details, I’ll say it involves the USC Trojan marching band playing “Louie, Louie.”
This is not a film to watch if you’re in the mood for something deep or intellectual. If you don’t want to think for an hour or so, this is your movie.
And it serves to remind those of us who remember just how long ago 1988 was.
Leslie Nielsen was nominated for the 1989 Funniest Actor in a Motion Picture Award by the American Comedy Award. The movie was nominated for 1990 Best International Film by the Jupiter Awards (Germany).
I could not find this anywhere to stream for free without a subscription. According to Justwatch, it’s available from places like Max, Apple TV, and Amazon TV for rent or to buy.
Title: The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad! (1988)
Directed by David Zucker
Writing Credits (WGA) Jerry Zucker…(written by) & Jim Abrahams…(written by) & David Zucker…(written by) & Pat Proft…(written by) Jim Abrahams…(television series: “Police Squad”) &David Zucker…(television series “Police Squad”) & Jerry Zucker…(television series “Police Squad”)
Cast (in credits order) Leslie Nielsen…Lt. Frank Drebin Priscilla Presley…Jane Spencer Ricardo Montalban…Vincent Ludwig George Kennedy…Capt. Ed Hocken O.J. Simpson…Det. Nordberg
Reviews of Old and New Stories. Mostly Old 