Sgt. Stigwood’s Beatles Tribute Band

What if the Beatles had been able to “Get Back” together for one final triumph before time and tragedy made that an impossibility? We’ll never know. Diehard fans only have the universally detested Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1978) as a small consolation prize.  

That long-hoped-for return of the Fab Four never happened—but a glitzy, episodic, all-style-and-no-substance-big-budget-yet slapped-together compilation of Beatles tunes was foisted upon the moviegoing public in 1978 to a chorus of dismay and, as they might say today, cringe. 

Produced by impresario Robert Stigwood, the project initially had all the earmarks of a hit—on paper. The critical and box office successes of Stigwood’s previous movie musicals, Tommy and Grease, gave the producer firm footing as he put together his new magnum opus. (Stigwood had also produced the hugely successful Saturday Night Fever, but that doesn’t quite fit into the same “Hollywood movie musical” genre.)

Stigwood now announced plans for his greatest show of all, one that could possibly reunite the members of not just a beloved band but greatest cultural force in modern music history—the “new Beatles musical.” He had succeeded in acquiring the rights to songs in the Beatles catalog and hinted that the Fab Four would possibly reunite for the film (they had officially disbanded in 1970). Excitement and anticipation were high, but the enthusiasm did not last long. 

The possibility was intriguing and the results would doubtlessly have been far different if the Beatles had accepted the offer. After all, The Who had collaborated with Stigwood and director Ken Russell on bringing their rock opera Tommy to the big screen, with Roger Daltrey in the lead and Townsend, Moon and the whole band performing in the film as well. The result is still considered a masterpiece of moviemaking by many. 

When it became clear that John, Paul, George and Ringo had zero interest in reuniting to collaborate on the project, Stigwood changed gears, assembling an all-star cast and cobbling together a script that could encompass the 29 songs he had licensed from Lennon, McCartney and Harrison. 

Ringo, John, Paul and George in full dress uniform, but they did not report for duty.

It’s likely that the big buildup of enthusiasm for a possible reunion of the greatest musical group of all-time contributed to the film’s poor reception when it failed to deliver that long-hoped-for moment. (Regrettably, all four Beatles never performed together again; Lennon was killed in 1980.) McCartney and Starr actually attended the film’s premiere; Lennon and Harrison sat it out. No one had anything nice to say about the movie. 

Even after Sgt. Pepper crashed and burned at the box office, producers still attempted to revive the movie musical as a popular film genre as the 1980s dawned, always unsuccessfully. The Village People disco campfest Can’t Stop the Music (presented by Stigwood’s Grease producing partner Alan Carr) and Olivia Newton-John’s lackluster Xanadu firmly pounded the final nails into the movie musical’s coffin in the early ’80s.

The film draws chiefly from the Sgt. Pepper album and Abbey Road, though there are also songs from Revolver, Rubber Soul and the Magical Mystery Tour albums. The soundtrack was produced by Beatles arranger George Martin.

The new Fab Four: Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees.

Directed by journeyman Michael Schultz (Cooley High, Car Wash) with choreography by Patricia Birch (you may recognize some of her favorite background dancers from the Grease chorus), Sgt. Pepper is pure ’70s fantasy and kitsch, colorful but undeniably messy in its style and storytelling. Perhaps hoping to mimic the rock opera milieu of Tommy, none of the principals speak a word here—it’s all song after song, but without Tommy’s strong narrative spine. This was a compilation of Beatles songs in need of a story to tie them together. So, as exposition for a highly contrived plot, the viewer is forced to rely on a ponderous narration by George Burns, the octogenarian Golden Era comedian who had enjoyed a recent comeback in The Sunshine Boys and Oh, God!

The less said about the nonsensical and incomprehensible plot, the better; it involves a hunt for stolen magical musical instruments and the rags-to-riches rise of a 1970s pop group. Tired tropes abound, including the nefarious doings of Hollywood and the music industry, with pale echoes of Beatles films like Help! and A Hard Day’s Night.

Mr. Kite (George Burns) and the boys in Heartland

But there are definitely bright spots that make this bad movie fun to watch. The production design and costumes are first-rate, and the star-studded cast makes you keep watching to see who will turn up next. 

The Lonely Hearts Club Band is led by rock heartthrob Peter Frampton as Billy Shears, supported by none other than the Bee Gees. British singer and guitarist Frampton had just electrified the music world with his first solo album Frampton Comes Alive. Born in the UK and raised Down Under, the Bee Gees—Barry, Robin and Maurice (BG – Brothers Gibb)—had been around since the ’60s when they were known as Australia’s answer to the Beatles but had recently become mega stars with the release of the soundtrack to the hit film Saturday Night Fever, produced by Stigwood. 

Peter Frampton as Billy Shears

In the film, Frampton and the Gibbs do display great chemistry and camaraderie, and their musical styles blend well, and the Bee Gees’ famously beautiful harmonies do some of the Beatles’ tunes particularly proud.   

In addition to narrating the film, George Burns plays Mr. Kite, the mayor of Heartland, doing a song-and-dance soft shoe routine to “Fixing a Hole. ”

Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb as the Henderson Brothers

Also in the cast are singer/actor Paul Nicholas (who most recently had played nasty cousin Kevin in Tommy), English actor Frankie Howerd as Mean Mr. Mustard and legendary character actor Donald Pleasence. Pleasence, famous for his chilling portrayals of menacing villains (Harvest Home, Eye of the Devil) plays a hip but unscrupulous record executive, in a wavy wig and polyester shirt unbuttoned to the navel, warbling “I Want You/She's So Heavy.” 

Steve Martin (Only Murders in the House) clowns amiably and amusingly as a nutty plastic surgeon singing “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.”

A wild and crazy guy: Steve Martin as Dr. Maxwell

The lighter side of Donald Pleasence

The musical cameos by current rock and roll superstars are a definite highlight, and a few of their cover versions of Beatles hits even made the charts: Aerosmith (“Come Together”), Alice Cooper (a trippy rendition of “Because”) and Earth, Wind and Fire (“Got to Get You Into My Life”).

Unfortunately, Sgt. Pepper did nothing to launch the career of Sandy Farina, a singer with a pretty face and a pleasant voice. As Strawberry Fields, who sings both “Here Comes the Sun” and “Strawberry Fields Forever,”  she gives a performance that’s somewhat less than memorable. She never played a lead onscreen again.

Billy Shears and Strawberry Fields (Sandy Farina)

The Girl with Kaleidoscope Eyes: Dianne Steinberg as Lucy

In one of the film’s campier moments (there are many), singer/dancer Dianne Steinberg performs “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” with Stargard, a disco girl group who had a hit with the theme song from the Richard Pryor comedy Which Way Is Up (also directed by Michael Schultz). Despite her valiant efforts in the film, Steinberg also failed to reach stardom. 

Earth Wind & Fire scored the biggest cover hit: "Got To Get You Into My Life."

A precursor to the music videos that would soon become de rigueur for artists in the MTV era, the movie becomes much more palatable for music lovers than cinephiles. Fans of Peter Frampton, the Bee Gees and other ’70s luminaries will no doubt enjoy the colorful, creative and often comedic montages of the Beatles covers, woven into the outlandish throwaway plotline. Some of the high points include Robin’s rendition of “Oh! Darling” and Barry’s “A Day in the Life”; Frampton’s “Golden Slumbers,” “Long and Winding Road” and “She Came in Through the Bathroom Window” are also memorable moments.

Billy Preston ensures a happy ending with "Get Back"

Billy Preston, who had played with the Beatles for their final live appearance on the rooftop of Apple Records in 1969, is the deux ex machina who ensures a happy ending, singing and dancing his inimitable and spirited version of “Get Back.”

The finale is an homage to the star-studded original Sgt. Pepper album cover itself. Stigwood and company rounded up every available showbiz name working in the environs at the time; the result is a motley and diverse crew of entertainers including Tina Turner (right next to Carol Channing!), Helen Reddy, Sha Na Na, Wolfman Jack, Connie Stevens, Leif Garrett, Peter Allen, Chita Rivera, Gwen Verdon and Dame Edna. (The juxtaposition was not quite as impressive as Aleister Crowley, Bob Dylan, Marilyn Monroe, Mae West and Edgar Allen Poe on the actual album, but a fascinating time capsule of 1970s fame nonetheless.) 

The finale: All the stars there are in heaven—or at least in Culver City.

For a movie that belly flopped at the box office and was razzed unmercifully by critics upon its initial release, time has been kind to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Flashy, a bit trashy, but with its heart in the right place, it definitely deserves to be elevated to cult status by anyone who has an affinity for the music of the Beatles and the energy, glitz and glamour of the 1970s. 

This is an entry in the legendary So Bad It’s Good Blogathon hosted by Rebecca of Taking Up Room. Looking forward to a fun weekend of guilty cinematic pleasures! 

A Star Is Born Again…and Again

Because Hollywood loves stories about itself and the pitfalls of show business, it’s not surprising that one of the most remade movies in film history is A Star Is Born. It’s the tale of a rising young talent who is discovered by a troubled superstar, and the new star skyrockets to success as the has-been fades away.

First filmed in 1932 as What Price Hollywood, starring Constance Bennett and Max Carey, it was remade in 1937 under the title A Star Is Born with Janet Gaynor and Fredric March in the leads. Judy Garland and James Mason starred in the 1954 version (produced by Garland and her then-husband Sid Luft), which added the musical element to the story and gave Judy some of her most memorable songs, including the haunting “The Man That Got Away.”

More than 20 years later, superstar Barbra Streisand brought A Star Is Born to the screen yet again, producing and starring in an updated musical version that moved the story from the movie business to the music industry, casting herself as the up-and-coming rock and roll hopeful who falls in love with an alcoholic singer on the skids, played by Kris Kristofferson.

The 1937, 2018 and 1954 versions are all well worth watching.

In 2018, Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper teamed up for yet another remake—practically a beat-by-beat retelling of the 1976 Streisand/Kristofferson version…which may be why Streisand gave it her stamp of approval. Directed by Cooper and featuring songs by Gaga collaborating with Cooper, Diane Warren and others, it was a solid hit with audiences and critics alike.

The 1976 A Star Is Born was a massive box office success, and the soundtrack album hit #1 on the Billboard charts, remaining there for six weeks. But the movie was savaged by the critics, who deemed it a failure and a poorly conceived vanity project.

It was Streisand’s first foray into an official role behind the camera, and for A Star Is Born she teamed up with an equally inexperienced collaborator, her live-in lover, former hairdresser to the stars Jon Peters. Indeed, Streisand and Peters knew next to nothing about producing a big-budget film (although Barbra had always been passionately curious about every aspect of filmmaking), and this first effort for both of them really shows that lack of experience. 

Actress/Singer/Producer/Director Barbra Streisand

Producing partners and paramours Jon Peters and Barbra Streisand 

But of course, both would go on to greater success. As director of Yentl, The Prince of Tides and The Mirror Has Two Faces, Streisand added another hyphenate to her job description and expanded her sphere of influence in the industry. Peters would go on to partner with Peter Guber as the presenter of megahit blockbusters including The Color Purple, Rain Man and the 1989 Batman. On his own, Peters acquired the rights to the Superman franchise and produced Superman Returns (2006) and is credited as executive producer on Man of Steel (2013).

A Star Is Born was their training ground…

Originally, Streisand and Peters wanted Elvis Presley for the role of the burnt-out rock singer, and Presley, who had been absent from the big screen for almost a decade, seriously considered the offer.

Whether the role hit a little too close to home, or domineering manager Colonel Parker refused to allow him to do it, the pairing of the two icons never materialized—but it could have been an exciting combination had Elvis been able to rise to the challenge. Indeed, it may have changed the trajectory of his own life and career.

Presley’s deep, lush baritone would have been perfect for Streisand’s new composition for the love theme, “Evergreen,” a dream duet that might have been and now we can only imagine.

 

It would have been a different movie with Elvis in the Kristofferson role

Perhaps Elvis was in no condition to act before the cameras anyway. Bloated and tired, he continued a grueling touring schedule and would soon pass away in the summer of 1977, looking far older than his 42 years.

Instead, they cast the handsome and charismatic rock and folk singer turned actor Kris Kristofferson, which looked like a stroke of genius. And the screen couple showed real chemistry and photographed together well—it might be said that it was the very sexy shot of the stars embracing bare-shouldered on the movie poster and album cover that sold all those tickets. 

But the movie definitely does not work. Though there are several iconic moments that shine and make the film worth watching, the results are lukewarm at best.

They certainly looked good together and had screen chemistry

The soundtrack was one of the top selling albums of the decade, and in the film Streisand performs some of her most beloved songs, but the story is incoherent and hard to follow. The supporting characters are poorly drawn, wasting the talents of skilled actors like Gary Busey and director Paul Mazursky. The film lacks a coherent center, veering too far away from the human drama inherent in the original story.

The script is a mess; one suspects it was a classic case of too many cooks spoiling the broth. I wish I could read the original adaptation of the story by the brilliant team of Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne, who are credited for the screenplay along with director Frank Pierson. Streisand and Peters tinkered with story and dialogue, added and cut scenes, and micromanaged every aspect of the production despite their lack of knowledge.

They even waged war against the director himself, according to Pierson in a scathing article he wrote for New West magazine before the film’s 1976 release, which added to the myth and image of Streisand as a domineering diva who must always get her own way, no matter the cost. Pierson disclosed an on-set screaming match between Kristofferson, Peters and Streisand on how a scene should be played. He painted a picture of Streisand as a control freak who wrested creative control away from him and ruined the film on final cut…perhaps just sour grapes, but the film suffered nevertheless, and the ever-ambitious Barbra Streisand is still viewed in that negative light to this day.

(Barbra herself addressed the controversy in her 2023 memoir, but seemed to place the blame for the film’s critical failure on everyone else but herself, the film’s producer.)

Sadly, Kris Kristofferson’s underwhelming performance in the final product is a particularly weak link to the 1976 A Star Is Born—likely through no fault of his own. 

Barbra designed her own wardrobe—and is credited in the film

Generously baring his tanned, well-muscled chest in practically every scene (remember when the macho men used to unbutton their shirts all the way down to the navel?), Kris certainly brings the sex appeal. But the taciturn, man-of-few-words persona that charmed Ellen Burstyn in Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore doesn’t come off as well in Kristofferson’s one-note portrayal of the crucial role of fading superstar Jon Norman Howard.

Jon Norman is a primitive character sketch of a reckless cowboy; Kristofferson reveals no vulnerability or even a clue as to what made him a great entertainer. Why is he an alcoholic? We never find out. In the dearth of a good script or subtext, the film literally forces the actor to rely on his good looks and sex appeal.

Despite having three songs on the soundtrack album, in the movie there’s a mystifying lack of singing from Kristofferson, a best-selling recording artist and songwriter himself, who gave Janis Joplin her final iconic hit, "Me and Bobby McGee." Why didn’t he sing more in this musical film?

Director Pierson claimed Streisand and Peters had re-edited the film to favor her performance, allegedly cutting scenes that added depth to Kristofferson's character to keep the focus on her. Only snippets of songs sung by Kristofferson made the final cut; even in the wonderful “Watch Closely Now” we are not allowed to see him perform the entire song. Yet later, Streisand sings a long, drawn-out arrangement of the song at the memorial after his character’s death.

Hampered by a threadbare script and surprisingly few musical moments in which to highlight his undeniable talent and charisma, Kristofferson’s performance seems wooden and hollow.

(By contrast, Bradley Cooper’s portrayal of the character in the 2018 film which he also directed, was better by far…though never celebrated as a singer, Cooper’s vocals are remarkable here, the duet with Gaga on “Shallow” being a particularly memorable moment.)

I don't remember this scene in the film—did they cut it?

For a movie billed as a rock film, there is a stultifying lack of real rock music here…Marilyn and Alan Bergman, Rupert Holmes, Kenny Loggins and Paul Williams are more well known as composers of light pop, standards and folk…great music, but it’s not rock and roll to me.

Predictably, the focus of the 1976 film is squarely on Barbra Streisand, the film’s titular character. An admirer of Judy Garland ever since the two worked together on television in 1963, Streisand saw the opportunity to update the story and display her versatility as an actress, musician and producer—the world’s greatest entertainer, now as a rock singer who skyrockets to fame when discovered by a fading superstar.

Suspension of disbelief is necessary to picture the already legendary Barbra Streisand as a total unknown, naive to the workings of big time show business. (Similarly, you have to do the same in the 1954 version to believe the 32-year-old Judy Garland as a starving young singer.) 

As usual, Streisand, ever the pro, is strong in her role of the singing sensation Esther Hoffman and comes off best in the film, though she has little to play against, chiefly because all she basically does in the film is sing song after hit song, albeit winningly. 

In the film, Barbra memorably sports a startlingly tight afro-perm that certainly changes her look, as if to exorcise the ghosts of musical dinosaurs Dolly Levi and Fanny Brice (whom she had just played a second time in Funny Lady) for good and all. Some of her fans were horrified; others applauded her contemporary new look, created by her hairstylist lover and Star Is Born coproducer Jon Peters. Streisand would keep the tight curls for a couple more years longer than she kept Peters, through her 1978 Superman album and 1979’s The Main Event. For A Star Is Born, the star also designed all her own clothes (and gave herself screen credit for it).

Did Streisand and Kristofferson have an on-set screaming match?

Barbra had previously dipped her toe into the rock genre, scoring hits with cover versions of songs like Laura Nyro’s “Stoney End” and Carole King’s “Where You Lead,” but here she is more balladeer than rock diva. “I Believe in Love,” “Everything” and “Woman in the Moon” are highlights, beautifully and excitingly performed by Streisand in the live concert sequences, but the songs are basically contemporary pop standards. Streisand composed the music for the love theme “Evergreen”; Paul Williams provided the lyrics. Both took home Oscars as it won the Best Original Song award that year.

If only the creative team had spent as much time on the dramatic possibilities as the music. Despite the physical chemistry of the two stars, you don’t understand why Esther cares so much about Jon Norman. And Esther doesn’t seem nearly as ambitious as she should be either; it’s as if she merely gets a lucky break…there is no hunger for fame or even artistic achievement. Esther hits the stage, wins over Jon Norman’s disgruntled audience, and suddenly becomes an icon.

In one of the film’s brighter moments, the Esther and Jon Norman  “Evergreen” recording studio scene captures a spark of iconic movie magic (though, again, we barely get more than a phrase or two of the love theme vocalized by Kristofferson).  But the story of their artistic collaboration, deepening love and tragic loss is never fully realized. 

"Evergreen" won Barbra her second Oscar, this time for Best Original Song

Though it’s an essential in the Barbra Streisand filmography, and one that launched her to even greater success, this film doesn’t hold a candle to the 1937, 1954 and 2018 iterations. Of course, as a big Barbra fan, I own the DVD and have viewed it many times but always find myself fast forwarding through to the musical numbers.

For those who want to see this oft-told story really come to life, I heartily recommend the 1954 Judy Garland version.

This is an entry in the Film. Release. Repeat Blogathon hosted by the Midnite Drive-In and Hamlette's Soliloquy. Looking forward to reading all the essays over the weekend.

An O’Neal Family Valentine

Their real-life father-daughter love story may have been bittersweet, but Ryan O’Neal and his daughter Tatum created movie magic together in Paper Moon (1973), a cinematic achievement about which both O’Neals were justifiably proud. It’s also one of director Peter Bogdanovich’s finest films, lovingly crafted in close collaboration with his longtime creative and life partner Polly Platt, a brilliant artist in her own right.

For Paper Moon, Platt’s production design perfectly evokes the Depression-era 1930s in a black-and-white palette perfected by the creative pair on their breakthrough film The Last Picture Show in 1971, which had sent the young director’s career into the stratosphere and made him a permanent A-List celebrity and auteur. 

Not surprisingly, director Bogdanovich received all the credit and the kudos, while Platt struggled to keep working in Hollywood after the pair split (he left her for Last Picture Show leading lady Cybill Shepherd). Their breakup is dramatized in Nancy Meyers’ and Charles Shyer’s underrated comedy Irreconcilable Differences (with Ryan O’Neal ironically playing the egotistical director character based on Bogdanovich).

Ryan O'Neal as Rodney Harrington in Peyton Place

Good-looking and well-built, with a captivating smile and loads of Irish charm, O’Neal had been an amateur boxer before setting out to become an actor. His first big success was as a nighttime soap heartthrob, playing Rodney Harrington on ABC’s Peyton Place opposite Mia Farrow.

In 1970, O’Neal achieved worldwide stardom with his performance in the blockbuster tearjerker Love Story with Ali MacGraw. Following a deft comedic turn opposite Barbra Streisand in What’s Up Doc directed by Peter Bogdanovich, O’Neal and the director teamed up again for Paper Moon, an on-the-road buddy movie about a crooked traveling salesman with a 9-year-old child in tow, set in 1930s Kansas and Missouri. While preparing the script with O’Neal, Bogdanovich met Ryan’s precocious daughter Tatum—and the rest is film history.

A traveling Bible salesman and con artist, bilking wealthy widows out of just a few precious dollars to stay afloat during the darkest days of the Depression, the aptly named Moses Pray is a benign crook with a hidden sensitive side, beautifully played by O’Neal. When he attends the funeral of an old girlfriend and finds that she has left a daughter behind, he is talked into giving the girl a ride to her new home in St. Joe, Missouri.

Tatum O’Neal is winning in her career-defining role of the orphaned Addie, an unsentimental  and tough-as-nails kid who has seen it all, smokes cigarettes and is distrustful of all adults, except for President “Frank D” Roosevelt. 

Tatum and Ryan hit the road

Together, the O’Neals are magnificent in this film, displaying the brand of chemistry that only a father and daughter can share. Their constant sparring and rapid-fire repartee as the pair travel cross-country in a rickety convertible jalopy make this one of the most enjoyable ‘road pictures’ you’ll ever see. Ably supported by a bevy of wonderful 1970s character actors including Randy Quaid, John Hillerman and many other familiar faces, Ryan and Tatum take us on a memorable journey through Bogdanovich and Platt’s monochromatic 1930s midwest. 

Madeline Kahn is pure comedic brilliance as the trashy but charismatic Miss Trixie Delight (supported hilariously by actress P.J. Johnson playing her reluctant maid Imogene), an erstwhile prostitute who latches onto Moses Pray in the hopes of a steady meal ticket. (Kahn and O’Neal’s chemistry as the absent-minded Howard and domineering Eunice in What’s Up, Doc had previously yielded comedic gold.)

Madeline Kahn as Miss Trixie Delight (aka 'Mademoiselle')

P.J. Johnson as Imogene

For her performance in Paper Moon, 10-year-old Tatum O’Neal received an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress, alongside her costar Madeline Kahn, newcomer Candy Clark (American Grafffiti), Old Hollywood alum Sylvia Sidney (Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams) and 12-year old Linda Blair.

Some say that Linda Blair was the odds-on favorite to win the Supporting Actress trophy for her startling and terrifying transformation from innocent Regan MacNeil to the monstrous demonic entity Pazuzu of The Exorcist —but it was revealed that all of Blair’s raspy, obscenity-filled vocal performance had actually been performed by veteran actress Mercedes McCambridge (Giant, Suddenly Last Summer), who received no credit at all in the film’s initial release. With Blair’s shocking performance proven to be largely makeup, special effects and dubbing, the revelation opened the door for Tatum O’Neal to become the youngest-ever Oscar winner, which she remained until 10-year-old Anna Paquin was named Best Supporting Actress for The Piano decades later.

The Best Supporting Actress of 1973

In the ’70s, tomboyish girls were all the rage—this was the era of Jodie Foster and of Kristy McNichol (with whom Tatum would share the screen in the 1980 film Little Darlings). In Paper Moon, Tatum played against her feminine and vulnerable side, and dressed and was mistaken for a boy (think Jackie Coogan as The Kid or Jackie Cooper in The Champ). She even wore a tux to the Academy Awards that year.

But her superstardom proved to be short-lived. She did have a hit playing a similarly tough cookie in The Bad News Bears with Walter Matthau. But International Velvet, a sequel to the 1944 classic National Velvet which made Elizabeth Taylor a star, was a flop, despite the talents of Tatum, Christopher Plummer and Nanette Newman (The Stepford Wives) in the Taylor role. As a teenager and young woman, Tatum O’Neal proved to be a bit less interesting on screen than she had been as a child.

Her adult career never got off the ground, sidetracked by a tumultuous marriage to John McEnroe and a substance abuse problem. Her memoir, A Paper Life, is more bitter than sweet as she recounts the Hollywood upbringing that left her psyche scarred; obviously, as a father and family man, the troubled Ryan O’Neal left something to be desired. 

A child star for the '70s—I don't think Shirley Temple smoked...

Something changed in their relationship after his daughter won that Oscar. Papa O’Neal was nominated for an Academy Award just once in his long career (for Love Story), though he was recognized and honored by the Golden Globes and other film societies and worked far more frequently than his Oscar-winning daughter. According to Tatum, he constantly denigrated and belittled her greatest accomplishment. An absent father, he also preferred romancing beautiful actresses to parenting—and the addition of Farrah Fawcett to the O’Neal family unit seemed to exacerbate the tensions. His relations with his other children, particularly son Griffin, were equally contentious; ex-boxer O’Neal had a violent temper that flared at the slightest provocation. It was, by all accounts, a very dysfunctional family.

Over the next 40+ years, their relationship was embattled, to say the least, as evidenced by a 2011 reality series that documented Ryan and Tatum’s attempts to reconcile. After battling leukemia and other health issues for decades, Ryan O’Neal passed away in 2023, still largely at odds with his family. 

Today, Tatum works only sporadically in films and television but will be forever remembered as one of the most exceptional child stars, alongside luminaries like Coogan, Cooper, Shirley Temple and Hayley Mills. 

At least Paper Moon has presumably given her some solace, a moment of father-daughter camaraderie and creative collaboration that is emblazoned on film in perpetuity. 

This is an entry in the Hit the Road blogathon hosted by The Midnite Drive-In. I look forward to taking the ride with my fellow classic movie bloggers this weekend. 

Rob & Johnny’s Excellent Naked Adventure

1980s summer fun awaits, so don your bikinis and speedos. Private Resort (1985) is tasty low-calorie seasonal fare for movie-lovers of a certain age, mindless entertainment that appeals to baser instincts and tickles the funny bone in the process. For me, it brings back the realities and fantasies of summers long past. What’s it about? Sex, sex and more sex, with a soupçon of slapstick folded in for good measure. 

Like other entries in this familiar 1980s genre dear to my Gen X heart (including Porky’s, Bachelor Party  and The Last American Virgin), this raunchy teen sex comedy is designed to stimulate hormones rather than brain cells. (The pair of bare breasts revealed even before the opening credits have finished rolling will tell the viewer what’s in store.) No deep analysis is required to enjoy this guilty pleasure—just follow the bouncing boobs and buttocks.

 

Private Resort stars Johnny Depp, fresh from his debut in the previous year’s summer slasher Nightmare on Elm Street (where he was famously gobbled up by a bed, exploding in a fountain of fake blood) and Rob Morrow, who would soon find fame in television as the star of the long-running Northern Exposure and films like Robert Redford’s Quiz Show.

Rob Morrow and Johnny Depp, back in the day

This is a Johnny Depp before Captain Jack Sparrow, before Edward Scissorhands, even before 21 Jump Street, whose soon-to-be-iconic film persona is yet unformed. Here, Depp is cute and photogenic, totally at ease before the camera, but does not yet have the opportunity to exude the charisma and quirky originality that his upcoming films will provide him. Indeed, in this one he definitely plays second fiddle to Rob Morrow, who displays a bit more acting polish and comic timing.

 

The movie (I can’t bring myself to call it a ‘film’) is a high ’80s time capsule. You’ll see beautiful babes with tortured, teased and coiffed big hair sprayed to the max, and perpetually horny, geeky dudes (gotta love Depp rocking those rainbow pride shorts and open shirt) trying to score.  The characters attend aerobics class,  drink kamikazes and dance to songs with titles like “Caribbean Heat,” “Club Cabana” and “Miami Calypso.” Sharp-eyed movie fans will even spot a fake Jeff Spicoli (made famous by Sean Penn in Fast Times at Ridgemont High).

An inappropriately humorous moment with Johnny Depp and Tony Azito

It's a movie of its time, and some elements are indeed dated. Contemporary viewers may cringe at a few of the jarring jokes that would not go over so well today—including a poolside fat girl sight gag and numerous gay references (Depp pretends to be an effeminate manicurist)—they are uncool and inappropriate, to be sure, but you may nevertheless find yourself giggling in spite of yourself.

 

There is virtually no plot to speak of, but Private Resort does contain elements of the classic bedroom farce, with doors slamming, mistaken identity, paramours hiding in closets and under beds, running down hallways to avoid detection. (You will not mistake it for Molière, however.)  There is an attempt at a half-baked subplot about a diamond heist, but the caper gets lost in the shuffle of boobs and butts.

 

A shirtless Hector Elizondo—not bad, but about that wig?

A skilled and talented supporting cast elevates the flimsy material with a few flashes of comic brilliance. Versatile Hector Elizondo (The Fan, Pretty Woman) is a skilled actor who plays comedy and drama with equal aplomb and has given many a sensitive, touching and memorable performance under the direction of his friend Garry Marshall. Here he amusingly brings a vain and self-centered macho pig gangster character to life, sporting a horribly mangy wig.  

Leslie Easterbrook models the latest swimwear fashion

Busty comedic bombshell Leslie Easterbrook (Laverne & Shirley, Police Academy) who bares almost all in a completely see-through blouse, also exhibits impeccable comic timing in her role of the gangster’s wife Bobbie Sue.

 

Tony Azito (who played the haughty funeral director in Moonstruck) is hilarious as the uptight and supercilious hotel manager who is always being mistaken for a pervert (I believe the more polite term used to be ‘masher’).

The wonderful Dody Goodman

Dody Goodman, beloved to 1970s audiences as the dotty mother of Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman and the vice principal who stole every scene in Grease (much to Eve Arden’s chagrin), is absolutely hilarious as the wealthy matron who wants to marry off her granddaughter and niece to Depp and Morrow, whom she thinks are young professionals.

 

By the mid-1980s, T&A movies had been around for a couple of decades, mostly centered around female nudity, but by now, these racy comedies had become more democratic, giving equal time to the male and female physiques. Private Resort is no exception,  focusing in particular upon the undraped charms of the two young male leads.

The birthday suits. Who wore it best, Depp or Morrow?

For the first and only time in his career, Johnny Depp strips completely naked for an extended farce sequence, baring his then-slender frame for the camera with nonchalant alacrity. (If you want to see Johnny Depp naked in a movie, this is the only one. An actor’s actor who is most proud of the work he did with Tim Burton, Brando, Polanski and Oliver Stone, he would never appear in the buff again.)

 

Rob Morrow is also coaxed out of all his clothes for a lengthy sequence. (It’s up to the viewer to decide which star looks better in his birthday suit.) You won’t be able to unsee a hyperventilating Dody Goodman, hitting a naked Rob Morrow with her purse, braying in a broad southern accent,“You pervert! You vile degenerate!”

 

All in all, this movie is as amusing as it is titillating. Unabashedly and relentlessly sexual, it’s a total spoof not to be taken seriously. The nakedness and sex (which of course, never actually happens onscreen, because that would be too naughty) are played strictly for laughs. Private Resort is outrageous, silly, trashy, raunchy fun. I rewatch it every summer to relive my impetuous youth.

This is an entry in the Back to 1985 Blogathon hosted by The Midnite Drive In and Hamlette's Soliloquy. Looking forward to traveling back in time with you all.