Only now does it occur to me... PHANTASM (1979)

Only now does it occur to me...  I've written a little about PHANTASM (1979) a few times before. It's a surrealistic indie melancholy horror which owes more to Luis Buñuel and Jean Cocteau (and a little Ray Bradbury) than, say, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD or the Universal horror classics.

Fred Myrow's spooky-rockin' soundtrack. The yellow blood. The Jawa-men. The box of pain (a DUNE homage?). That sleazy lean-to shack-bar that looks like a stiff wind could blow it over. The noiseless, alabaster-white corridors of the mausoleum. The angry red sky of the other dimension. The phantasm balls, and their hidden secrets. The Tall Man. "BOYYYYYYYYY!"

Few films build such a wonderful impression of the end of summer and the beginning of autumn. Ultimately, it's a grim coming-of-age, and minus the supernatural elements, I think that its honesty and sheer quality should have even made the establishment critics take notice. In fact, Coscarelli's first two films were slice-of-life coming-of-age pictures played straight (the excellent KENNY & CO. and JIM, THE WORLD'S GREATEST). But let the establishment have their films, and let genre fans have PHANTASM. 

And despite all of its wonderful bells (and balls) and whistles, it all really comes down to a feeling, an emptiness, a melancholy born of grieving. That secret urge to wander the graveyard on an overcast day, and see what you can see...

 

I also once wrote about THE OTHER (1972) as the missing link between SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES and PHANTASM, but I'd like to add a few new observations as well. 

First, that it's incredible how deeply PHANTASM aligns––more psychically than literally––with STAR WARS. Both take deep inspiration from DUNE (STAR WARS with Tatooine, the Tusken Raiders, spice-running, Jedi spirituality, and the Butlerian jihad reflected in "we don't serve their kind here," etc.; PHANTASM with the faux-Bene Gesserit "put your hand in the box/fear is the mind killer" scene, 

 

a hostile wasteland planet, and "Dune's Cantina"), 

 

and both feature little people in desert robes (in STAR WARS, the iconic Jawas; in PHANTASM, the compressed bodies of the dead... reanimated by the Tall Man and used as interdimensional minions). 

Director Don Coscarelli has described this as a coincidence. He was apparently midway through production on PHANTASM when a friend told him he had seen "a trailer for this new movie Star Wars and your characters, the little brown dwarf guys, are in it." Later, STAR WARS fan and THE FORCE AWAKENS director J.J. Abrams helped restore the original print of PHANTASM and named Gwendoline Christie's shiny chrome STAR WARS character "Phasma" as a tribute.

Anyway, PHANTASM is great. It's meandering and dreamlike and a true indie, with bold editorial choices and stunning visuals. It's a little rough around the edges, and the performances (aside from A. Michael Baldwin's lead (child) performance and Angus Scrimm's elementally terrifying Tall Man) are uneven, but it's spooky, charming, and in a class of its own. 

 

It makes the time for multiple Reggie the Ice Cream Man (Reggie Bannister) guitar jam sessions

 

and definitely is not a screenplay they're going to teach in SAVE THE CAT or Robert McKee-inspired film schools. This gives it time to develop its potently weird dream energy, like a more adult ALICE IN WONDERLAND (or like VALERIE AND HER WEEK OF WONDERS or LEMORA: A CHILD'S TALE OF THE SUPERNATURAL).

 

 Like most melancholy horror films, it's about grief, abandonment, and fear of the unknown.

A strong recommend if you've never seen it, especially in its gorgeous new restoration.

Only now does it occur to me... BLUEBEARD (1972)

Only now does it occur to me... somehow, by putting a drunken Richard Burton into what is essentially a Vincent Price role––playing "Bluebeard," with an actual blue spray-painted beard, in a campy Technicolor French-Italian-German-Hungarian co-production––

 

that you could end up with something that's quite so... mediocre.

This is an odd duck. It's directed by former Golden Age Hollywood player Edward Dmytryk (CROSSFIRE, THE CAINE MUTINY, and MURDER, MY SWEET), has a haunting soundtrack by Ennio Morricone (which is very reminiscent of his work on DUCK, YOU SUCKER, completed one year prior), and brilliant cinematography (Gábor Pogány),

 

art direction (Tamás Vayer ), 

 

and set decoration (Boldizsár Simonka), 

 

by a trio of talented Hungarians who would rarely find work outside of their own country. It occasionally evokes shades of Mario Bava, Hammer horror flicks, and Nicolas Roeg's work for Roger Corman. All of this is good.

However, the screenplay (by Dmytryk and three Italian collaborators, based on the dark fairy tale but updated for a 1930s setting) is an absolute train-wreck: unfocused, pretentious, and meandering. Or perhaps it's more like a messy bird attack, ordered by a lethargic Richard Burton on his wife who just blew a raspberry at him?

 

I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm making this look better than it is. There is artistic merit here, and, hell, there is camp merit, too, but it keeps getting dragged down into a morass of Italo skin-flickery and wannabe arthouse pomp. Like the Nazi subplot that it can't quite support.

(That's right, this Bluebeard is also an Austrian Nazi––and the cheapjack scaffolding this film provides can't come close to bearing that historical load.)

So while the director and writers believe it is something closer to CABARET or MEPHISTO, and its design team believes it is something closer to THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES or BLOOD AND BLACK LACE, and its star believes that it's his naptime (between his morning tipple and his happy hour), I think the producers––with their reliance on tawdry Eurosleaze thrills––think they're making a Tinto Brass or Joe D'Amato flick. Whew.

 Also, on a semi-related note, there are way more musical numbers in this than I would have imagined.

Oh, and Raquel Welch kinda sorta plays a nun. Maybe Ken Russell should have directed this. 

Speaking of Ken Russell, there's a ridiculous phallic moment where one of Bluebeard's wives cheats on him and then makes the mistake of falling asleep, naked, entwined with her lover beneath a rhino horn antler-chandelier. Which Burton gleefully unleashes upon the couple, impaling them.

And even though it's set in the 1930s, I guess Joey Heatherton is playing "Shirley Partridge" from THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY?

Damn, there I go again, making this look better than it is. Anyway, just go watch Catherine Breillat's BLUEBEARD instead.

Television Review: ZUMA BEACH (1978, Lee H. Katzin)

Stars: 2 of 5.
Running Time: 104 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Suzanne Somers (THREE'S COMPANY, SERIAL MOM), Michael Biehn (ALIENS, TOMBSTONE, THE TERMINATOR), Rosanna Arquette (PULP FICTION, AFTER HOURS, DESPERATELY SEEKING SUSAN), P.J. Soles (HALLOWEEN, ROCK N' ROLL HIGH SCHOOL, CARRIE), Tanya Roberts (THE BEASTMASTER, A VIEW TO A KILL), Steven Keats (DEATH WISH, THE FRIENDS OF EDDIE COYLE), Mark Wheeler (THE CONVERSATION, APOLLO 13), Gary Imhoff (SUMMER SCHOOL, THE GREEN MILE), Delta Burke (DESIGNING WOMEN, WHAT WOMEN WANT), Kimberly Beck (ROLLER BOOGIE, FRIDAY THE 13TH PART IV: THE FINAL CHAPTER).
Tagline: "Her life had suddenly become a long drive to nowhere... so what better place to get it all together than her old stomping grounds, Zuma Beach! Let's get it together with a batch of beach boys and their golden girls... frolic with Suzanne Somers on Zuma Beach!"
Best one-liner: "Have some confidence in yourself." –"I can't. It's 9:30, and the stores stop selling confidence at five o'clock. And tomorrow is a holiday."

"I wrote that for a producer who just said he wanted a beach movie. He ended up selling it to Warner Bros., and soon Suzanne Somers was starring in it. I was going to direct it––for about ten seconds––but one of my mentors, Richard Kobritz, who later produced Christine, helped me see I didn’t want to do it. It was vastly rewritten, so I really shouldn’t have taken credit for it, but I was a little asshole in those days."

–John Carpenter, when asked about ZUMA BEACH by Fangoria in 2013 

 

Almost ten years ago, I did a "Poor Man's Carpy" series on this blog, devoted to John Carpenter marginalia like the co-scripted TV movie SILENT PREDATORS, the Tommy Lee Wallace-helmed VAMPIRES: LOS MUERTOS, trashy Hallo-sequels HALLOWEEN 666 and RESURRECTION, and the Dennis Etchison novelizations of THE FOG and HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH. One which slipped under the radar was ZUMA BEACH. So here we are, in the dog days of summer, finally taking a look at this forgotten CBS Late Movie "sort of" written by Carpenter and three other guys.

What can we learn about John Carpenter from ZUMA BEACH? Very little, I'm sure, given his above quote, but I think it's worth looking into. (Says the guy who did a two-part deep dive into John Carpenter's filmmaker-buddy-garage band, The Coupe de Villes.)

It's a straightforward slice of life, giggle and jiggle flick designed to eliminate two hours on a lazy, hazy summer evening. Though it ends with a volleyball game, it never even possesses stakes as high as in SIDE OUT. 

 Suzanne Somers plays a pop star (whose big hit is the fictitious "Silent Whisper"), and she's having a mid-career crisis. 

In need of a reset, she clears her head at Zuma Beach, where she once enjoyed poetry and sand castles as a child. Zuma Beach is populated with a rogue's gallery of horny teens, pre-makeover nerds, beach bums, surfers, football jerks, hot dog enthusiasts, kite fliers, windjammers, cool visor-dudes and the like.

Somers becomes something of a beach elder here, primarily because it's a teenage hotspot. She dispenses wisdom, smiles pensively, and takes in some rays. 

 

Bullies vaguely receive their comeuppance, romances spark and fizzle, and everyone more or less fritters the summer away. This is ZUMA BEACH, ladies and gentlemen. It's so dedicated to its quotidian ensemble that if it were better written and had more interesting characters, it might even feel like an Altman or Linklater flick. As is, it's merely a pleasant time-waster filled with bright 1970s colors and some amusing and unexpected performances. For reference, the real Zuma Beach is in Malibu, about a 70 minute drive from the PRINCE OF DARKNESS church.

If I were trying to draw a real John Carpenter connection, I'd probably compare it to THE FOG, which also sees a strong woman adjacent to the music industry (Adrienne Barbeau as "DJ Stevie Wayne") finding her footing in a California beach community. There are even times that ZUMA BEACH feels like "a Carpenter horror movie, but before the horror begins."

The image of a child playing with his dog in the surf... recalls Stevie Wayne's son finding a plank from the Elizabeth Dane in THE FOG? C'mon, I'm trying here.

Oh, and there is a lot of feathered hair in this movie. Might I remind you that it was shot in 1978.

Mark Wheeler's elaborate feathered coiffure helmet puts Mark Hamill's to shame

With such a bare bones plot, you start focusing on strange details. Like Suzanne Somers' suntan oil, which looks like it's being dispensed from an Elmer's glue bottle.

We have young, Toto-era Rosanna Arquette as a character who tokes a lot of reefer. She's doing that quirky comedic 'Rosanna Arquette thing,' mostly indistinguishable from her performances in AFTER HOURS and DESPERATELY SEEKING SUSAN, which is okay!

You have to admire (pre-Reagan) CBS Standards & Practices allowing such casual drug use to slip by without dramaturgical rebuke. 

Michael Biehn pops up, also in one of his very first roles, as a crazy-eyed, eyebrow-indicating lifeguard who uses his lifeguard tower as a bachelor pad.

Here, he's trying to pressure HALLOWEEN's own P.J. Soles into pre-marital sex. It's a good thing Michael Myers isn't around!

HALLOWEEN was released October 25, 1978; ZUMA BEACH debuted September 27, 1978. HALLOWEEN was filmed in May, and based on the look and general disposability of ZUMA BEACH, I have to imagine it was filmed that summer. It's quite possible that P.J. appears here as part of some John Carpenter favor; but given his disconnect to this movie, it's equally plausible that it's pure coincidence. I at least have to hope that John Carpenter was not responsible for a line of dialogue about "extracurricular sex-tivity."

Soles: "I have six pigtails"

As usual, P.J. Soles is a hilarious delight. And she has six pigtails. Count 'em––six! Why would anybody need six pigtails? Maybe she's choosing to pull focus by-way-of ridiculous hair/costume accoutrement––she does has a history of that. You may recall that in Brian De Palma's CARRIE, she established herself as the Queen of Pulling Focus with her big 'ol red rainbow ballcap. Bless.

There are some terrible, copyright-skirting faux-Beach Boys songs which play throughout, Tanya Roberts and Delta Burke wander through the frame, and Michael Biehn gets sand kicked in his face: a sobering experience for Zuma Beach's resident bully/Casanova.

There's a volleyball game and a riding-men-by-the-shoulders race,

and that's all she wrote. Er, rather, that's all John Carpenter and (at least) three other guys wrote. Do you feel like know all you need to about the ZUMA BEACH experience? I hope so.