Showing posts with label Robert Stigwood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Stigwood. Show all posts

Saturday, May 30, 2026

Stranded at the Drive-In with John Travolta & Friends

When I was 12 and my sister was 11, my mom took us to see Grease in the summer of 1978. Its nostalgic theme appealed to her, as she had grown up and attended high school in the ’50s, graduating in 1961. We all loved it, and I have seen it countless times over the intervening years. It’s now a part of American culture—timeless in its appeal. 

The movie conjured a carefree time of drive-in movies, burgers, milkshakes, first sexual fumblings in the backseats of cars and a new kind of music called rock ’n roll. Despite its depiction of an increasingly laissez-faire attitude toward sex in the late ’50s as seen through the lens of the free-for-all ’70s, Grease is nevertheless fun and wholesome and sweet, considered family fare that all ages can enjoy.

Created by the songwriting team of Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey, Grease was Broadway’s longest-running musical (1972–1980) until it was overtaken by A Chorus Line in 1983. The film version, produced by Robert Stigwood (Tommy, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band) and Allan Carr (Can’t Stop the Music, Where the Boys Are) and directed by Randal Kleiser (The Blue Lagoon, It’s My Party), would become the highest-grossing movie musical of all time. 

In the mid-to-late 1970s, America had a fascination with nostalgia—and the 1950s in particular. George Lucas’s American Graffiti had already become a classic and Happy Days was the #1 TV show. 

Too cool for school—John Travolta as Danny

A teenage soap opera centering on the frisky senior class of Rydell High School, the film is an interesting mix of gritty realism, a touch of camp, catchy tunes and good clean fun. Today, the film would probably garner an R rating for its subject matter and language alone—not the PG it earned originally. Some of the characters’ sexual innuendo and witty repartee are definitely not even PG-13. Peppered with raunchy dialogue, phallic imagery, choreography featuring “tasteless and vulgar movements” and yes, even a fleeting glimpse of bare buttocks “mooning” the audience, this is no High School Musical. Yet it still has an odd sense of innocence and joy—and a happy ending, though based on the female lead transforming herself from virgin to dominatrix.

In her American film debut, Australian vocalist Olivia Newton-John (her cover of fellow Aussie Peter Allen’s “I Honesty Love You” is one of my favorites) plays the role of Sandy, who revamps her image from ingenue to femme fatale with greased-lightning speed and alacrity. Newton-John triumphed in the role and became a worldwide superstar. 

After Grease, Newton-John followed up with the musical Xanadu and later would team again with John Travolta in Two of a Kind. (Both were monumental flops.) She went back to cutting albums and making memorable MTV videos like “Physical” in the ’80s—but then accepted a non-singing role from director Randal Kleiser for his 1996 autobiographical film It’s My Party. She continued to tour the world and perform for adoring, sold-out crowds until illness prevented it; she died in 2022 at the age of 73.

Goodbye to Sandra Dee—Olivia Newton-John as Sandy

John Travolta, fresh from his triumph as the dance sensation Tony Manero in Saturday Night Fever, which won him an Oscar nomination for Best Actor (he was the youngest man nominated in the category up that time), put his dancing shoes back on and added singing to his musical skill set for the role of Danny Zuko in Grease.

His Danny Zuko is part Tony Manero and part Vinnie Barbarino, his breakout role in the 1970s sitcom Welcome Back, Kotter. Impish, comical, with charm and sex appeal to spare and an inimitable peacock-strut of a walk (with or without a BeeGees beat behind him), Travolta catapulted himself into the entertainment stratosphere and cemented his superstar status at the tender age of 24.

His surprisingly strong vocals had previously led to a not-very-successful solo album, which made him rethink his singing career and focus on acting. He would dance again, though, in Stayin Alive (the ignominious Saturday Night Fever sequel directed by Sylvester Stallone), Urban Cowboy and later in his comeback film, Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction—which revitalized his flagging career after a string of critical and box office disappointments. In the ’90s, Travolta enjoyed a major career resurrection with a string of hits after Pulp Fiction, including Get Shorty, Michael and Face/Off, among others. His last foray into the musical genre was the film version of the 1960s-themed Hairspray (2007), in which he played the Divine role, a mother in drag. 



Think Pink, not Pure: Didi Conn, Jamie Donnelly, Stockard Channing and Dinah Manoff 

As the blunt and no-nonsense tough cookie Rizzo, leader of the Pink Ladies, Stockard Channing (Practical Magic, The First Wives Club) steals every scene she’s in and scores in her two solo songs: “Look At Me, I’m Sandra Dee” and “There Are Worse Things I Could Do.” The versatile Channing would enjoy a long and varied career, both as a character actress in film as well as on the stage, where she triumphed in both straight plays (Six Degrees of Separation) and musicals (Pal Joey).



The other Pink Ladies have memorable moments as well—I particularly love a cotton-candy haired Didi Conn (You Light Up My Life) being serenaded by Teen Angel Frankie Avalon in the “Beauty School Dropout” number. Dinah Manoff (Ordinary People, Empty Nest and the daughter of the great Lee Grant) is humorously seductive being pursued by the vain and sleazy National Bandstand TV host Vince Fontaine, played by Edd Byrnes. Jamie Donnelly (who appeared in the original Broadway production) does a hilarious interpretation of the Ipana toothpaste commercial, another of hundreds of iconic moments in this film that almost everybody knows by heart.

As Kenickie, the handsome Jeff Conaway has one of the best roles of his career, though he was disappointed to learn that his one musical solo number, “Greased Lightnin’,” would be handed to up-and-coming star Travolta. Conaway would become a beloved and familiar face in the long-running TV series Taxi, only to lose a tragic struggle with substance abuse. He died in 2011 at the age of 60.

The other T-Birds—Barry Pearl, Michael Tucci and Kelly Ward—exhibit good chemistry,  genuine camaraderie and perfect comic timing, but none of them went on to bigger and better things, though they have all worked steadily in show business over the years. 


Bromance, T-Bird Style: Jeff Conaway, Barry Pearl, Michael Tucci and Kelly Ward with Travolta 

The inclusion of classic movie and TV stars underlines the movie’s nostalgic appeal to older generations. As the straightlaced Rydell school principal, the venerable Eve Arden (Mildred Pierce) has to contend with a scene-stealing Dody Goodman (Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman) as her kooky secretary, but their comic pas de deux is warmly amusing. 

Dody Goodman upstages Eve Arden

Frankie Avalon—guardian angel of Frenchy (and Angelman)

The acerbic Joan Blondell as Vi—a film star since the 1930s

Fans of golden era movies and television will enjoy turns by Joan Blondell (Gold Diggers of 1933) as Vi the waitress, Sid Caesar (Your Show of Shows) as Couch Calhoun, Edd ‘Kooky’ Byrnes (77 Sunset Strip) as Vince Fontaine, Alice Ghostley (Bewitched) as Mrs. Murdock, tribute band Sha Na Na as Johnny Casino and the Gamblers and  Frankie Avalon (Beach Blanket Bingo) as the Teen Angel. 

Other fleeting cameos: Fannie Flagg as a school nurse in search of stolen castor oil, and a young Lorenzo Lamas (son of Fernando; stepson of Esther Williams) as a dimwitted football player. 

Much of the film’s magic comes from the music. In addition to the songs written for Broadway by Jacobs and Casey, there are snippets of a few genuine ’50s classics thrown in for the nostalgia crowd (“Blue Moon,” “Hound Dog,” “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing”)—and new songs that made the 1978 pop charts. A new title tune by Barry Gibb, “Grease is the Word,” is sung by Frankie Valli over the opening title cartoon credits. “Hopelessly Devoted to You,” sung by Newton-John and “You’re the One That I Want” performed by Newton-John and Travolta, were written and produced by John Farrar. 






To underline the plot of Danny and Sandy’s rocky romance,  a new song for the famous drive-in movie sequence, “Sandy,” performed by John Travolta under the behemoth outdoor screen, was written by Louis St. Louis to replace the Broadway song “Alone at the Drive-in Movie.” A preamble was added in keeping with the drive-in theme:  “Stranded at the drive-in/Branded a fool/What will they say/Monday at school?”

Many of the Broadway songs were cut to make room for the new material, but the big showstoppers and specialty numbers remained, expertly choreographed by Patricia Birch (Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band) and exuberantly performed by the principles and a talented ensemble: “Summer Nights,” “We Go Together,”” Born to Hand Jive” and “Greased Lightnin’.”

The National Bandstand sequence remains a highlight, bringing together the elements of comedy, romance, music and dance. Of course, John Travolta’s electrifying dance movies are a highlight, helping him earn the reputation as his generation’s Fred Astaire.  Singer Newton-John also acquitted herself nicely in the dance sequences; in 1980 she would graduate to dancing with Gene Kelly in Xanadu.

There is an interesting juxtaposition of verisimilitude and willing suspension of disbelief. Production design by Philip M. Jefferies and imaginative, character-driven costumes by the late great Albert Wolsky have real authenticity and put the viewer squarely in the period. But the fact that all the actors playing Rydell High students are far out of their teen years (Newton-John was 30, Channing 34!) adds a layer of high camp—especially since the film is a dreamlike return to high school in a 1950s that never really existed. “We’re seniors now,” Rizzo straightfaces, “and we’re gonna rule the school.” Then the Pink Ladies all hoot with laughter—and the audience laughs along with them. 


The movie endures because it is joyful, fun and free. And the songs get in your head and never leave—at least for a GenXer like me. We know every word!

A few years back, I attended a screening of the singalong version—that was too, too, too much fun, a delightful experience. Very Rocky Horror, with people just standing up at their seats to sing and performing impromptu choreography in the aisles. During “Beauty School Dropout,” everyone in the theater turned around to see who was outblasting Frankie Avalon. (Yes, that was little ol’ me.)


This is an entry in the Celebrate the Drive-in Week blogathon hosted by Quiggy and his prolific Midnite Drive-in Blog.




Thursday, February 12, 2026

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 the 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. Even the surefire Grease 2 had been a critical and commercial dud.

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 commands 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! 




Wednesday, March 11, 2020

An Amazing Filmic Journey



One of the most iconic rock bands of all time steps off the concert stage and onto the silver screen in one of the wildest film trips in cinema history. In Tommy (1975) The Who (guitarist and composer Pete Townshend, lead singer Roger Daltrey, drummer Keith Moon and bass player John Entwistle) bring their 1969 “rock opera” to life with the help of avant garde film director Ken Russell and producer Robert Stigwood (Saturday Night Fever, Grease).

Chock full of wild, wigged out, psychedelic imagery, Tommy is a movie musical like other, a cinematic feast providing a kaleidoscopic palette that brings the rapturous rock melodies of Pete Townshend’s rock masterwork to vivid life.

Director Ken Russell creates a detailed tapestry, a mosaic of dazzling imagery to to match the bold driving excitement of Townsend’s words and music. The production design is lavish, featuring costumes by Russell’s wife and collaborator Shirley (who would receive Oscar nominations for her designs for Agatha and Reds) and dreamlike, colorfully surreal settings.

Oliver Reed as Frank
Ann-Margret as Nora
Roger Daltrey as Tommy

Laden with religious symbolism and New Age iconography—mirrors, ball bearings, pinballs and disco balls juxtaposed with crosses, crucifixes and red poppy flowers—Tommy explores the themes of false idolatry, the exploitation of faith, the commoditization of talent and the superficial allure of fame and fortune in epic fashion.

Like The Miracle Worker’s Helen Keller, Tommy is a deaf dumb and blind kid stumbling through life on instinct and intuition until a sudden breakthrough sends him on a spiritual odyssey. Only his sense of touch is unimpaired as a result of his childhood trauma. Salvation comes through his affinity to the game of pinball (a worldwide craze in the mid 1970s).

"Cousin Kevin": Paul Nicholas


"Fiddle About": Keith Moon as Uncle Ernie

Russell’s flamboyant, over-the-top style often resulted in epic filmic fails, including the glitzy and garish Valentino, The Boy Friend and Lisztomania (which also starred Roger Daltrey but failed to capitalize on Tommy’s success), but Tommy is arguably the auteur’s masterpiece (though others may prefer Women in Love or The Devils). Here, Russell is clearly highly inspired by the material of 1969 rock album.

The Who and Russell invite a bevy of rock, pop and Hollywood stars to help them tell their irreverent and satiric (but often moving) story of the severely traumatized child who becomes “The New Messiah.”

Eric Clapton: "Eyesight To The Blind"




Hired to babysit the disabled Tommy while his middle class parents try to live a normal life, British actor/pop star Paul Nicholas scores in his cameo as evil bully Cousin Kevin, while perverted Uncle Ernie (perfectly played by The Who’s own Keith Moon) pantomimes the sexual abuse of Tommy in broad comedic strokes.

Tina Turner’s nightmarish turn as the Acid Queen is imposing and impressive, and it’s a shame Miss Turner has not done more film work to date (although she would grace the silver screen again memorably in Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome a decade later). And glam rock superstar Elton John seems right at home as the Pinball Wizard dethroned by Tommy, and makes that song his very own.

Tina Turner: "Acid Queen"




Tommy earned a Best Actress Oscar nomination for Ann-Margret for her showy, dazzling and bombastic performance as Tommy’s mother Nora. Tackling the rock music with gusto, the squeaky clean star of State Fair and Bye Bye Birdie, having already swiveled her hips in sync with Elvis Presley (and almost stealing Viva Las Vegas away from the King) a decade earlier, adds dysfunctional femme fatale to her cinematic persona with this iconic performance.

Elton John: "Pinball Wizard"



Margret’s set piece is stunning and unforgettable: As Pinball King Tommy climbs in popularity all over the airwaves, a guilty and drunken Nora patrols her white-on-white bedroom suite draped in white fur and a silvery white formfitting catsuit, in clutching anxiety, trying to avoid her son’s image on the TV. The all-white bedroom is swathed in immaculate white satin and plush white shag carpet. She throws her bottle of Veuve Cliquot at the TV screen and her false white cleanliness is shattered.

Her downward spiral into desecration and filth is explosively materialized as the room is flooded with the stuff of the TV commercials she’s been viewing, first spewing a river of white soap suds, then unlovely geysers of baked beans and dark chocolate. Margret’s Nora writhes and revels in the dirty mess till finally only a small bunch of white carnations she clutches remains clean and pure.

Ann-Margret: "Champagne"







Another outrageous and stunning tableau is built around the song “Eyesight To The Blind”: Guitar-strumming clergyman Eric Clapton leads the Church of Marilyn Monroe, where multitudes are healed by the doomed sex goddess’s own lethal cocktail of booze and pills, administered by eerie Monroe-masked priestesses.

Critics will note that the movie soundtrack is musically inferior to the raw rich tones and driving rhythms of the original album, sung largely by Daltrey and Townshend. Here, we depend on the charisma of the eclectic cast to put over Townshend’s complex rock compositions, with mixed results.

As Tommy’s stepfather Frank, Oliver Reed (who famously wrestled nude with Alan Bates in Russell’s Women in Love) was obviously hired here for his acting chops rather than his vocal aptitude, and that severely damages the film’s musicality (but adds comic relief). We find out exactly why Oliver Reed’s one song as Bill Sikes was cut from Oliver! as we are subjected to his hoarse, atonal warbling throughout the film, ruining some of Townsend’s most melodic tunes!

Jack Nicholson: "Go To The Mirror"

The faulty, flat and breathy rendition of “Go To The Mirror” by the normally in-control Jack Nicholson (who starred as Ann-Margret’s paramour in Carnal Knowledge) as Tommy’s doctor makes Oliver Reed sound like Frank Sinatra in comparison.

Margret belts with passionate abandon, but her voice is more suited to pop and musical theater rather than hard-driving rock, and her camp stylings and and glam visuals are far more stimulating than the vocals captured on the soundtrack.

"Sally Simpson"

As well, the arrangements themselves lack the grit and depth of the beloved original 1969 record with the addition of ’70s-style synthesizers as well as the obligatory orchestral movie scoring (which nevertheless earned Townshend a Best Score Oscar nod).

There are, of course, notable exceptions: The soundtrack is bolstered by Elton John’s powerhouse performance of “Pinball Wizard” which became the film’s biggest chart-topper, and Tina Turner’s exciting interpretation of “Acid Queen” in her own inimitable style.




Daltrey: "Listening To You"

It’s a striking film debut for The Who’s lead singer Roger Daltrey in the title role. As Tommy, Daltrey is the embodiment of the rock love god of the 1970s, with cascading blond curls tumbling over his bare tanned shoulders as he soulfully implores his audience to “See me/feel me/touch me/heal me.” (The singer’s muscular physique is shown stripped to the waist at every opportunity, sending 1970s teenage hearts aflutter and shooting adolescent hormones into the stratosphere.)

Not just superficially photogenic, Daltrey reveals a strong affinity for the camera and the medium of film as he commands the screen with all his musical talents at his disposal, resulting in a solid performance.

Though his long association with The Who has remained the backbone of his decades-long career, Tommy gave Daltrey a case of the acting bug. In addition to starring in Ken Russell’s next film, another title role in the disastrous Lisztomania, Daltrey has appeared in dozens of non-musical roles in film and television over the years, including The Legacy, Highlander and CSI.

A harbinger of the MTV music video era just ahead on the horizon, Tommy is one of the first films to match up rock music with cinematic imagery and present a complete narrative. A couple of years later, the epic failure-turned-guilty pleasure-cult classic Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, also produced by Stigwood, attempted but failed to capitalize on Tommy’s success and capture audiences. Almost two decades after the film, the rock opera also spawned a Tony Award-winning 1993 musical.

This unforgettable film leaves indelible impressions on the mind and continues to influence pop culture to this day.



This is an entry in RealWeegieMidget’s Pop Stars Moonlighting blogathon. It’s been a delight to cover this great film, and I am looking forward to delving into this rich subject matter as seen through the sharp lenses of my fellow movie bloggers!