Original Cinemaniac

13 Movies I Wish Criterion Would Put Out

            Criterion really is the gold standard of home media. Aside from some questionably oblique covers, their Blu-rays are all sensational restorations of movies by legendary directors such as Fellini: Bergman; Antonioni; Bunuel; Bresson; Fassbinder; Varda; Renoir; Denis; Powell; Akerman– it’s amazing to realize they are like a huge library that encompass the history of cinema. But often I lie in bed imagining them tackling more off-beat fare and giving it that special Criterion sheen. So why don’t you come along with me and imagine these oddball selections sitting on the shelves in the toney Criterion section of Barnes & Noble.

            Everything’s Ducky (1961) MGM’s manic comic troll- Mickey Rooney and rubber-faced homunculus and nightclub favorite- Buddy Hackett were joined to create this unforgettable comic romp about two sailors and a talking duck named “Scuttlebutt.” The whacky shenanigans will have you repeatedly smashing your head with a hammer. But imagine this alongside other Criterion titles in the “E” section like Eraserhead; Elevator to the Gallows and Eyes Without a Face

            What Do You Say to a Naked Lady? (1970) Allen Funt’s popular TV show Candid Camera cornered the market on embarrassing “gotcha” videos of ordinary people’s reactions to set-up comic pranks. But what would people do when confronted with a naked lady exiting an elevator or on the street? This hidden-camera feature film was filled with so many sexual situations it was rated X by the Motion Picture Association of America, but probably should have been rated “P” for “Puerile.” Sacha Baron Cohen can do audio commentary for this forerunner of his Borat films.

            The Fat Spy (1966) A boatload of scavenger-hunting, frugging teenagers are headed to an island off the Florida coast that might contain the secret of eternal youth. Roly-poly comic favorite from The Ed Sullivan ShowJack. E. Leonard plays Irving, the corpulent spy in this nearly incomprehensible musical comedy which includes curvaceous Jayne Mansfield and Phyllis Diller. Not to mention the rock band The Wild Ones who perform “the slowest dance you’ll ever do” called “The Turtle.” Directed by Joseph Cates, who also directed the 1965 sleaze masterpiece Who Killed Teddy Bear?  Maybe Criterion could put out both Cates films in a “Special Edition” box set. Or is that too much to pray for?

            Did You Hear the One About the Traveling Saleslady? (1968) The “lost” Phyllis Diller film. This psychotic slapstick mélange stars the irrepressible, wild-haired, comic Phyllis Diller as Agatha Knabenshu (laughing already?), stranded in a Missouri town after trying to sell player pianos. She teams up with a bumbling inventor- (“little buddy”) Bob Denver of Gilligan’s Island fame- and they try to sell an automatic milking machine. You can imagine the hijinks! The hot-air balloon antics! Whacky outfits Phyllis Diller wears! Even pie-in-the-face-gags! The kind of comedy that can make a grown man weep. (And not from joy). Should good money be spent restoring this questionable comedy? Hell, yes! 

            The Swinger (1966) At the height of Ann-Margret’s sexy, wet-lipped, hip-gyrating, Kitten with a Whip fame. Margret plays an aspiring writer who goes undercover by assuming a fake identity of a perpetually swinging party gal to prove herself to the smarmy editor of “Girl-Lure” magazine (played by Anthony Franciosa). In one scene, she is covered in paint and spun around a canvas on the floor at a staged orgy and during the credits she jumps around on a trampoline in a provocative, black, form-fitting ensemble with matching gloves and kicky boots. Oh, Ann, how wild! Wait until you witness the speeded-up sequence where Ann-Margret tries on whacky hats in a department store. Might Criterion unearth outtakes from this groovy, swinging 60’s time capsule? 

            The Subterraneans (1960) Imagine a major studio adapting On the Road author Jack Kerouac’s book about his affair with a troubled, free-wheeling, black girl amidst the coffee houses and jazz clubs. Well, the studio cut that romance out and filled the film with a staggeringly un-hip Hollywood cast with little to no comprehension of the bohemian spirit. The Carpetbaggers lead George Peppard stars as the novelist searching for kicks among the poets and beatniks in San Francisco. His unstable girlfriend is now French and played by Leslie Caron. The film also co-stars Roddy McDowall and Janice Rule. It doesn’t get more hilariously tone deaf than this- like a perfect example of bone-headed Hollywood decisions. It needs to be re-discovered and appreciated in 2021. If you want to know what the “Beat Generation” was not this is your film!

            The Last of the Secret Agents? (1966) A new generation can be introduced to the madcap comic stylings of Allen & Rossi, a popular nightclub act in the 60s that were shoe-horned into this comic spy spoof. Marty Allen is the moon-faced, bug-eyed goon with a mop of frizzy black hair. Steve Rossi is the suave, womanizing crooner, a-la Dean Martin. They play two boobs in Paris who are recruited into the GGI (Good Guy Institute) to thwart the villainous Zoltan (Theo Marcuse)- the head of THEM- who plans to steal the Venus de Milo. Nancy Sinatra keeps trying to get Rossi to settle down and marry her in the film and sings the theme song: “He’s never caught one spy untold…he’s never even caught a cold…Got his degree from Disneyland…But he’s the last of the secret agents and he’s my man.”

            Go Naked in The World (1960) Gina Lollobrigida plays Guilietta, a high-priced call girl in San Francisco, whose response to a maître d’s query if she’s free later that evening is, “I’m never free, sweetie.” Tony Franciosa plays Nick, just back from the Army who boasts, “I can make love in twelve languages.” However, he’s too stupid to figure out Guilietta is a prostitute, who he falls madly for, even though she warns him, “girls like me don’t fall in love.” When he brings her, as his date, to his parents’ anniversary party, his tyrannical Greek father (Ernest Borgnine) informs him, “There’s a dozen men in this room who know that call girl better than you- including me, you dumb kid.” With dialogue this ripe, this howler richly deserves a glorious Criterion restoration.

            Bolero (1984) John Derek made a career out of mortifying his wife, statuesque beauty Bo Derek, in a series of really bad movies but none as notorious as this one where Bo plays a 1920s heiress who heads to Morocco looking for love. She gets a desert sheik to lick honey off her, but he passes out, leaving her unsatisfied and off she goes to Spain where she finally loses her virginity to a matador. When a bull gets him by the balls, Bo nurses him back to health by riding around (literally) bareback, and whipping her hair across his naked body screaming: “I want ecstasy!”, not referring to designer drugs. But imagine seeing John Derek’s name on the same Criterion shelf alongside Ingmar Bergman, Michelangelo Antonioni and Luchino Visconti.

            Purple People Eater (1988) The world needs more movies based on novelty songs. Sheb Wooley’s catchy 1958 ditty finally reached the screen in 1988, with a very, very, young Neil Patrick Harris as Billy Johnson, who conjures and hides the alien, “a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater.” The oversized plushy-doll from outer space helps Billy’s elderly friends (Shelley Winters and Ned Beatty) from getting evicted by a greedy landlord (played by Sheb Wooley!). Even Chubby Checker and Little Richard show up. People are always talking about “extreme cinema” using as examples films like Criterion’s Funny Games, The Piano Teacher and Salo, which have all been described as upsetting, disturbing and difficult to sit through. This film makes those look like Song of Norway.

            Penitentiary III (1987) Director Jamaa Fanaka’s loony masterpiece with General Hospital heartthrob “Luke” Anthony Geary playing a gravel-voiced, platinum-haired, gangster named Serenghetti who rules the prison from his plush, private, cell. Female “illusionist” Jim Bailey appears in full drag as his roommate Cleopatra. There’s even a martial-arts-fighting dwarf called the Midnight Thud (Raymond Kessler, aka the “Haiti Kid”) who blows crack smoke at a rat in his cell and watches as it keels over dead. If this isn’t deserving of the full Criterion upgrade, what is?

            Abby (1974) Wouldn’t it be a coup if Criterion could rescue this from the vaults of Warner Brothers who sued this blaxploitation horror movie for being a rip-off of The Exorcist and won in court, confiscating all prints of the film. Now, true, it’s about a woman possessed by a demon but Abby really isn’t all that much of a copy-cat, especially considering how Italians shamelessly ripped off The Exorcist for years in shoddy, gory, knock offs. Carol Speed plays Abby, a Christian counselor married to the Pastor son of an archeologist- Dr. Garrett Williams (William Marshall). Williams, on a dig in Nigeria, opens an ancient puzzle box and unleashes Eshu, a demonic spirit of chaos and horniness. The entity somehow travels to Kentucky (the Red Eye?) to possess sweet, virginal Abby and turn her into a sexually voracious animal. Now, what stupid Judge thought that was a ringer for the William Friedkin film? Not seen since it’s aborted run in 1974, isn’t it time to release the Eshu?

            Ma & Pa Kettle at Home (1954) The backwoods family, who stole scenes in The Egg & I inspired their own series of 9 comedies concerning harried Ma (Marjorie Main) raising 15 kids with lazy Pa (Percy Kilbride), who enters contests winning modern homes and trips to Paris and New York. My personal favorite is Ma and Pa Kettle at Home where Pa attempts ludicrous and half-assed cosmetic fix-ups to his ramshackle farm so his son can win a scholarship. Maybe like the Fellini, Ingmar Bergman and Wong Kar-Wai box sets they could do a 4K restored collection of all the Ma & Pa Kettle films. One needs to dream big.