The Phynx is a uniquely bizarre film from 1970 with a tiny cult

 

Review by Doug Gibson

The Phynx, 1970, from Warner Brothers, is a cult film, albeit with a very tiny cult. It is both jaw-droppingly bad and completely-bizarre unique. I've watched it five times and it's progressed from a total disaster to hey, there's a little bit of fun here. This film had a smidgen of potential to be an extended Laugh In-type gem parody. But it was made by big-studio executives, who had their own idea of how to interpret and capture the youth enthusiasm of the '60s. It was fated to bomb.

Super secret United States intelligence professionals are trying to rescue a lot of aging celebrities and stars who have been kidnapped by Albania. Their efforts, helmed by a Waylon Smithers-type agent named Corrigan, have been failures.

So, Corrigan's superior, named Bogey, played by Michael Kellin, who has the worst Humphrey Bogart accent you'll ever hear, gathers a confab of all the U.S. secret agents. There are Boy Scout agents, prostitute agents, Ku Klux Klan agents, you get the idea. There's also the big leader, the president, who wears a box over his head. He's played by Rich Little. 

Eventually it's decided to consult a machine called MOTHA. It is, forced laughter, shaped like a woman. Asked for a solution, its computer mind bubbles in her two metallic breasts and the answer, on a slip of paper, shoots out of MOTHA's ... ahem ... middle section. This is not a subtle movie.

The answer is to form a rock group called The Phynx, and both prepare these four band mates to be the most popular singing group in the world and highly trained agents able to rescue the hostages in Albania.

So four ordinary 60s young guys are kidnapped and taken to a military base where Bogey tells them the situation. One of their trainers is a young Richard Pryor.

To mercifully move this ahead, the Phynx become the number one rock group in the world, despite really terrible songs. I don't think the filmmakers intended for the band to stink, they just do. Some of the ways the Phynx get to the top involve infiltrating record stores, putting a gun to Milton Berle's head (another cameo) and having the president change Thanksgiving to Phynxsgiving (I'm not making that up). Through mass marketing and publicity, they've also made the four singers sex symbols. 

The captives cum secret agents also get military training. In one unfunny sequence, a military instructor blows himself up.

The boys start to grumble about lack of female intimacy. So they are allowed an orgy, with Bogey uttering these unforgettable words, "Gentlemen, the United States government is pleased to announce an orgy!" ... It's pretty tame, lots of flesh covered by bikinis, somewhere between PG and PG-13. The Phynx was rated GP. I remember GP. It was below R, an ugly malformed cousin to what would morph into PG a decade-plus later.

There is a creepy, not-good scene after the "orgy" where Corrigan (who plays the sexually frustrated one in this film) picking up the orgy women with a --- I am not making this up -- forklift and dumping them outside the orgy warehouse. The women appear to be sleeping or unconscious. 

Meanwhile, there are still more celebrity kidnapping to Albania, with news reports. The Phynx is big on news reports, and montages with dippy doo-dwop music inappropriate for the late 1960s. Finally, the four members of The Phynx are ready for their mission. But they do not exactly know where to go in Albania.

In a staggeringly unfunny scene, a female secret agent (played by Martha Raye) arrives to provide the information. But Bogey stupidly shoots her through a hotel door, mortally wounding her. Before she dies, she informs the quartet that a map -- in three parts -- is tattoed on the tummies of three girls.

So, through London and Copenhagen, the Phynx embarks of thousands of sexual (PG remember) encounters with women searching for the tatooed tummies. They find two, one tummy belongs to Russ Meyer starlet Susan Bernard. In France, the tired overcopulating Phynx are allowed to wear glasses that can see through exterior clothes. This leads to a few unfunny scenes with The Phynx leering, putting on glasses ... However, the glasses don't work when one tries to peek at a nun. But they find all three tummies, put the map together and head to Albania.

The Phynx are so globally popular they're actually welcomed to perform. Once there, they discover the communist dictator is not really the culprit. It's a military officer (played by Michael Ansara) who has gone a bit crazy. He has the only military tank, so he can assert his will and keep the hostages, and the president, his wife, and their very weird son at bay. The Phynx have dinner with the powerless first family. The first lady is played by Joan Blondell, a pre-code sexy star in the '30s. She had a long career beyond the '30s. Blondell is the only non-cameo star of this film who gives a good performance. She's bubbly, witty, and has good comic timing.

So, the Phynx are introduced to all the hostages taken by Albania. They enter a ballroom like it's the Academy Awards. You can read all of the names at the Wikipedia page. They include Dorothy Lamour, Xavier Cugar, Colonel Sanders, Rona Barrett (I remember her), Johnny Weismuller, Maureen O'Hara, Pat O'Brien, Leo Gorcey, Huntz Hall, former boxing champ Joe Louis, Dick Clark, Guy Lombardo, Busby Berkeley, Andy Devine, Butterfly McQueen (Prissy in Gone With the Wind), Ruby Keeler, Patsy Kelly, George Jessell, and more. It's almost like if Hollywood Squares multiplied 25 or so times.

The plot is mostly out the window, and The Phynx and captives think of ways to escape. I won't give it away, but they follow Huntz Hall's suggestion. Seeing Gorcey and Hall together is bittersweet, given their long association. Gorcey died before The Phynx was released.

The next morning the film's climax occurs. Watch it to see the end. It's a $2.99 rental at YouTube. It occasionally shows up on TCM, I believe first as a now-defunct TCM Underground offering. Warner Brothers finally released a DVD roughly a decade ago. Evidence of the film's tiny cult is that for decades fans/collectors would haunt trade shows or more shadowy sellers trying to buy bootleg copies of the film. For a long time, Warner Brothers just wanted to forget about this monetary disaster.

There was a small effort to promote The Phynx, although executives, who could watch dailies, rough cuts and previews, must have been aware the film was a turkey. My friend, David Grudt combed though newspaper archives and found the clips you see on this post, originally published in 1970 in the Indianapolis Star. The top clip promises a "world premiere" and mentions a "Rock and Roll Phynx contest." That must have been a big hit. (sarcasm intended) The second clip shows many of the guest stars and cameos in The Phynx. Poor Joe Louis gets his name misspelled.

So there was publicity for the film, an effort was made. It was all for naught. As then-UPI columnist Vernon notes in our final clip, "The Phynx was released in Indianapolis for two weeks and not seen again."

Despite its many faults, The Phynx, like any cult film, gets better the more you watch it. Despite being far more like Skidoo than Head, the film can bring the occasional smile.

NOTES: The best part of the film is when the has-been celebrities appear and we get to hear their banter. Some is witty. Pat O'Brien observes that if he had played the Gipper in Knute Rockne All-American, the 1940 classic, he'd be in Sacramento. That's a dated but funny gag as Ronald Reagan, who played The Gipper, was governor of California at the time. Reagan, of course, later became U.S. president. O'Brien played Rockne in the film. Another bittersweet funny gag is Joe Louis pointing out one advantage of being in Albania was there's no income tax. The joke has time-era relevance as Louis was hounded by tax authorities after his career for not paying taxes. Finally, maybe the best line is former Tarzan Johnny Weismuller turning to former Jane Maureen O'Sullivan, and saying, "Me Tarzan. You Jane." Despite the popularity of the quote, Weismuller never said that in a Tarzan film. The Phynx were played by A "Michael" Miller, Ray Chippeway, Dennis Larden, and Lonny Stevens. They are forgotten today. Only Larden had any marginal success singing, and it was before The Phynx. He was part of a group called Every Mother's Son that scored a hit with "Come on Down to My Boat." The group disbanded in 1968.

Ismail and Abdel Meet Frankenstein a bizarre take on Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein

 By Doug Gibson

A while back on Plan9Crunch, we reviewed a very obscure, but out there for sale, likely illegal 1962 Mexican remake of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. We now bring you an even more obscure Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein likely illegal remake, from Egypt in 1954, called "Abdel and Ismail Meet Frankenstein," (although it was titled "Have Mercy" in Egypt). I actually think this film is a little superior to the Mexican ripoff, but that's not really a compliment. This film is sold via Sinister Cinema.

The film is really cheap, mostly unfunny and has a musical score that makes the score for Ed Wood's "Jail Bait" seem like Beethoven. But, to its threadbare credit, it sticks stubbornly close to the plot of Bud, Lou and Bela's film; even to the point of re-creating, with its character, the most shocking scene of the Universal classic, where Glenn Strange's monster picks up beautiful mad scientist Sandra and throws her through a window to her death. Of course, everything's cheap in this version, the window looks phony, and so on, but I was impressed they included that scene.

Anyway, Egyptian comics, and apparently stars, Ismail Yasseen and Abdel Fatah al Kasri play silly clerks in an antique store. The "Lou" type, Ismail, is romanced by a woman, Samya, who is in cahoots with a mad scientist. (Guess what, Samya wants Ismail's brain!) One night, our boys receive a delivery of a big coffin that contains a mummy that looks just like a dime store traditional Frankenstein monster. Ismail keeps seeing it, Abdel never does and eventually the mad scientist, who looks just like a dime store version of the traditional Dracula, steals the Frankenstein-like mummy.

I digress to mention that Dracula and Frankenstein monster are never mentioned, perhaps to avoid any copyright legalities? There is a wolfman, but he is the assistant to the mad scientist, and he romances the mad scientist's niece; hence the Bud and Lou film characters of Dracula's unknowing assistant, the insurance investigator, and Lon Chaney Jr,'s wolfman are covered in two characters.

To get the boys in a situation where the mad scientist and Samya can get Ismail's brain into the "mummy," the comic pair are engaged as help at a party for the mad scientist's niece. Eventually, everything moves to the same climax scenario that was so funny in Bud and Lou's version. It isn't nearly as funny in this version, and arguably not funny at all 90 percent of the time, but it's fascinating to watch this virtually nil-budget production try so hard to mimic the experts.

At the end, the mummy survives and loses his curse, so he and the niece can live happily ever after. Ismail and Abdel do their version of the Invisible Man blackout that Bud and Lou did so well. There's no lake or boat, and their last-minute visitor is the "angel of death," which sends them running wildly away as the credits start.

This is a fascinating oddity for genre fans, just as the Mexican version is, but don't watch them both in one night; no one needs the torture ... but one can survive 90 minutes of bizarre kitsch.

The Miracle on 34th Street was a TV special in 1955

 

---

The 1947 Miracle on 34th Street is iconic, a holiday classic. And deservedly so. It's witty, heartwarming, with superb performances by Edmund Gwenn as Kris Kringle, with supporting actors that include Natalie Wood, Maureen O'Hara, John Payne, Gene Lockhart, William Frawley, and Jack Albertson.

But there are others, and I want to discuss a 1955 TV version titled The Miracle on 34th Street. It's obscure but easily available. It's worth a viewing. It stars Thomas Mitchell as Kris Kringle and the cast includes Teresa Wright, Macdonald Carey, Sandy Descher, Hans Conreid, John Abbott, Whit Bissell and Dick Foran.

The Miracle on 34th Street would likely be forgotten today if not the archive of YouTube and other streaming websites. It's a brisk, lean 46-minute show, over before you know it. But it's a enjoyable near hour, a sort of homage cum remake of the 1947 classic.

Here are some key changes: Kris Kingle, played by Thomas Mitchell, does not get hired for the Macy's Parade because the other Santa is drunk. He's already the Macy's Santa. There is no character of Alfred, the teen janitor who Kris becomes a mentor to in the '47 film. Also, the very touching '47 film scene of Kris speaking Dutch to a young European orphan girl is omitted. However, Kris does advise shoppers to go to other stores, including Gimbels, if the deal is better there. And he has Descher's young Susan pull at his beard.

The omission of Alfred leads the plot with Mr. Sawyer, the unhappy Macy's psychologist, and his clash with Kris, in a different direction. Sawyer does interview Kris as part of his job, hates him and wants him fired. However, the episode where Kris knocks Sawyer over the head with his cane occurs at an assembly at Susan's' school, where Sawyer congratulates the students for not buying into supersition. During this scene, Kris, dressed in Santa garb, is -- unbeknownst to Sawyer -- behind him on the stage, mocking him.

The children can't help laughing and it's amusing for a while. Then, a flustered Sawyer berates adults who dress up as Santa. At this point, the scene takes a turn that today would seem very dark. Kris Kringle lifts his cane high and savagely brings it down on the unsuspecting Sawyer. This is a very harsh contrast to the '47 version, where a frustrated Kris sort of "pops" Sawyer on the head with his cane in his office. In the '47 version, it's clear Sawyer is maliciously feigning injury afterward.

However, this Kris Kringle really hits him hard, and frankly I think a month or two in the jail for assault might have been merited. This leads to a second point: Although Thomas Mitchell is not a bad Kris Kringle, unlike the more gentle Edmund Gwenn in the '47 version, the '54 version Kris Kingle is a bit of a looney. Mitchell's Kris Kringle occasionally has a mad look in his eyes, and he really gets angry. When Teresa Wright's Doris rushes after him to say he's not fired earlier in the film, the audience can see the deranged anger in Mitchell's eyes.

Neverthless, and happily I guess, Kris Kringle is of course exonorated by the judge. In another change from the '47 film, Doris calls the U.S. Post Office, suggesting they forward letters to Santa Claus to the court where Kris is being tried for his sanity.

One other little twist is a scene where MacDonald Carey's Fred Gailey has brought venison to a dinner with Kris, Doris, and little Susan. Doris suggests to Susan if she doesn't like venison, she'll make her eggs. Kris interjects, with a long face, that he would prefer eggs too, because well, venison being deer, he just couldn't eat that. It's a mildly amusing scene, worth a smile. 

The Miracle on 34th Street was an episode of The 20th Century Fox Hour. It's' not the only other version of Miracle on 34th Street. There was a radio version, another TV version in 1959, and two mediocre conventional movie remakes. One, a TV film, is from 1974 with Sebastian Cablot as Kris Kingle. A theatrical version in 1994 had Sir Richard Attenborough as Kris.

But none approach the classic 1947 version, which remains the version to see first and often. However, I think this 1955 TV show version is the second-best offering. And it fits within an hour, for quick viewing with the family. You can watch it here. The two clippings from The Los Angeles Times were unearthed by my friend, David Grudt.

-- Doug Gibson

Two anthologies that provide a history of classic Christmas stories

 

Reviews by Doug Gibson

Readers of our blog know the name of author Andi Brooks. This year he has edited and compiled two fantastic anthologies of classic Christmas Tales. One is A Treasury of Christmas Stories: Classic Tales for the Festive Season. The other anthology is Ghost Stories for Christmas: Volume Two. 

They provide superb reads, preferably on a comfortable relaxing weekend afternoon, or around the late hours passing through midnight into the early mornings. Brooks has also included in some of the two books' stories original drawings. Both books provide the provenance of the stories, with date, name of author, and the periodical that published the tale.

Here is a Plan9Crunch link to blogs that are about and/or mention Brooks.

You can purchase these books, and other books from Brooks, via Amazon here.

Let me briefly delve into a Treasury of Christmas Stories. I've read about three-quarters of the stories. I am saving the rest for the long Christmas weekend this year. I had not read, or heard of, "The Beggar Boy at Christ's Christmas Tree, by Dostoevsky, before this year, but its imprinted in my heart. It tells the story of a boy, 6, on Christmas Eve, desperately searching for food. He's starving, and it's freezing cold. Unable to satisfy his hunger, he curls up in a virtually alley, by a woodstack. He suddenly encounters a wonderful Christmas Tree, with warmth, food and love. His recently dead mother, resurrected, is there with him. It's Christ's Christmas Tree, provided to children who perish due to humanity's neglect. 

One can't resist tears when Dostoevsky writes, "And down below in the morning the porter found the little dead body of the frozen child on the woodstack ..."

Another story compiled by Brooks is an abridged A Christmas Carol, the (not much) shorter version that Charles Dickens provided live to audiences with his eloquent voice. Dickens earned well for this, and continued the recitations until his death at 58. The plot and spirit of the hallowed story is not harmed by this shorter version. All the important points are retained. Passages excluded include the Lord High Mayor dinner in Stave 1, the discussion between the Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present on Sunday closure laws, and the scene in the Final Stave where Scrooge manages to make a donation to the portly businessmen on a charitable mission.

Other stories that stood out to me included Babouscka, a tale of a Russian woman, who with sad countenance, visits homes on Christmas Eve. She loves the babies, and caresses them. Her visits are tinged with regret, a sort of atonement. You see, she failed to accompany the Three Kings when they requested she join them on their visit to the new-born Christ. 

A poem by Robert Louis Stevenson, Christmas at Sea, draws a beautiful contrast between Christmas day on a ship, with warm homes visible on land.

---

Ghost Stories for Christmas: Volume Two is -- like Volume One -- a gem. Because I'm a former full-time journalist, I enjoyed "The Wicked Editor's Christmas Dream," 1893, by Alice Mary Vince. The tale -- sort of a very short A Christmas Carol take -- involves a spirit showing a loosly ethical journalists the consequences of preferring tabloid reporting over more virtuous stories.

The Ghost Summons, 1868, by Ada Buisson, is a deliciously creepy tale of a young doctor provided $1,000 pounds to be with a patient convinced he will die that night. The doctor considers the patient delusional, but learns otherwise.

I particularly enjoyed the story Bone to Bone, 1912, by E.G. Swain, in which the spirit of a man who died 150 years ago in a vicarage subtly provides clues to the current owner on how to locate and return his now scattered bones to their proper resting place.

Long or short, these stories are well edited  by Brooks, and satisfying. Readers do not have to be like me, and read most of them in a month. Read a few to several this Christmas season, and repeat every next Christmas season. The reading pleasure will last through the years, and longer as you re-read the tales