We stand amidst the carnage of a hundred half-considered ideas. Sickly remains of outlines lay strewn about the place, sentences bloodied and mangled from too many deletions. The blog reeks of the remains of what can cruelly be called "works-in-progress," all reduced to a series of empty-eyed, already putrefying corpses awaiting days of publication that would never come. Even the hopeful specters of good intentions - who were, at one point, legion - have left this place far behind. There is nothing but echoing hollowness here.
Well, we're all rested and ready to post some more fun stuff. Come along.
I'm not coming with you.
Beg pardon?
I'm tired of it.
<Sigh> What's the matter?
A lot of time has been wasted here over the past year. I think I'm sick of it.
You think I wanted it this way?
No. It's just that I don't think I can go on.
You don't want to blog anymore? What about your Princess Diaries article?
All I managed to come up with was that it has Anne Hathaway and that I saw it a month before 9/11. What the hell kind of a post is that?
But what about all the reviews you wanted to write? The Christmas articles in December? The DCA TV special!?
My Aunt Vanessa said, when I became a blogger, if you stop enjoying it, give it up.
Umm … you don't have an Aunt Vanessa-
It's stopped being fun, Condorman! Goodbye. You too, Donald.
Whatever.
I'll miss you both.
No, no - don't leave. Not like this!
I must! I ... I'm sorry. Goodbye.
It's strange … I left the comic industry for similar reasons. I'd grown tired of the lifestyle. The self-imposed deadlines. The writer's block. The amount of time I had to commit to the work. Every new piece of writing became more of a chore than a joy. It seems I must mend my ways. Come along, Caballero.
Whatever.
Brave heart, Blogger. I will miss you all, dear readers.
Once upon a not-too-long ago, the idea of "family fare" didn't necessarily mean "kids stuff." For many years Hollywood produced a number of films and television productions that offered high adventure and edge-of-your-seat drama, catering to both kids and adults. These adventure stories were more often than not free of the overt silliness that would come to define "family entertainment" as the 20th century wound to a close. In the mid-1980s this particular genre of "family adventure" offered Disney, a studio right in the middle of a changing-of-the-guard, a way of transitioning away from the darker fare they'd released in the previous decade and into more traditional (and more lucrative) kids entertainment. Let's take a look at Disney's gem from 1985, The Journey of Natty Gann - one of the finest examples of this lost genre.
How long were you alone with that dog?
The film tells the story of tomboy Natalie “Natty” Gann (Meredith Salenger, in her first starring role) and her widower father, Union-organizer Sol (Ray Wise.) Eking out a meager existence in Depression-era Chicago, Sol must leave Natty for a while after receiving a job offer from a lumber company in Washington. Following a run-in with the local police and threatened with being turned in as an abandoned child by her unscrupulous landlady (a harpy-like Lainie Kazan,) Natty hops a freight train heading west, hoping to find her father. Making her way across the country, she encounters both kindness and cruelty from humanity and nature alike, her courage and ingenuity put to the test with each mile traveled. Along her journey she’s joined by a wolfdog whom she rescues from a dog-fighting ring (who becomes something of a protective guardian) and an experienced drifter named Harry (a young John Cusack,) who mentors her in the rules of riding the rails.
The Journey of Natty Gann, as mentioned above, falls into a particular category of film that you don't tend to see any longer: that of the "family adventure." A familiar sub-genre to those of my generation, repeats of this film (or others like 1993's A Far Off Place, 1989's Cheetah and 1991's White Fang) or action-oriented TV shows like Canadian-import Danger Bay made up a considerable chunk of The Disney Channel's line-up from the mid '80s through the early '90s. Played as straight as a realistic period-piece, with no fantasy elements and little outright goofiness, for many these yarns felt like modern-day continuations of the "boy's adventure tales" that categorized such institutions as The Adventures of Tom Sawyer or Treasure Island. Though definitely aimed at a younger audience, the film features a number of surprisingly heavy moments that cast a grim pall over the story (including a scene in which a hitchhiking Natty escapes an attempted rape.)
'Steada treated, we get tricked...
Generally, Natty Gann holds up very well in this regard - and has earned itself something of a reputation as an underrated treasure. It's easy to see why, as everyone involved in the production seems to've brought their "A game" to this seemingly simple adventure tale. Jeremy Kagan's direction is confident and focused. An eclectic director of film and television (including successful 1977 drama Heroes and 1991's cult favorite By The Sword,) Kagan went on to become a full-tenured professor of film direction at USC. The film is bleakly gorgeous, with British cinematographer Dick Bush (a frequent collaborator with Ken Russel, of all people) finding intricate beauty in both majestic wilderness and squalid shanty-towns. Additionally, the late James Horner turns in another warm and lyrical score that supports the action and family-based drama well, sitting comfortably alongside his popular scores for 1985's Cocoon and 1988's The Land Before Time. Interestingly, Horner was brought in to re-score the film, as original composer Elmer Bernstein's more "western" styled score was deemed unsatisfactory by the filmmakers.
We have to dance for Natalie!
The acting is fantastic across the board. Meredith Salenger has a mesmerizing screen presence for such a young actress, and it's a shame that she only starred in a further four films before briefly leaving Hollywood at age 18 (though graduating from Harvard with a degree in psychology is certainly nothing to balk at.) Since the early '90s, Salenger has popped up in smaller roles in film and television, including a cameo in Disney's Race to Witch Mountain in 2009 (playing a reporter named Natalie Gann - well played, Disney.) Additionally, it's always a treat to see Twin Peaks' Ray Wise pop up, especially when he's not playing a villain or corrupted authority figure. His performance as Natty's father is at turns warm (in his scenes with Salenger) and gut-wrenching (as his character becomes cavalierly suicidal following news of Natty's supposed death.) Meanwhile, a fresh-faced John Cusack turns in a subdued performance as the worlds' cleanest young hobo, bringing a bit of teenage romance into an otherwise straight-forward adventure film.
In your eyes...
While there is much to appreciate in The Journey of Natty Gann, the film does tumble somewhat at the end, unfortunately leaving something of a bad - or at least misjudged - impression (spoilers for the climax lay ahead.) As mentioned above, Sol is under the impression that Natty is dead (her wallet being discovered at the scene of a train derailment that she'd actually escaped from,) and so takes on a series of ever-more-dangerous jobs for the lumber company. On the morning that Natalie happens to finally arrive at his jobsite, he's involved in a job in which several laborers are caught in a dynamite-blast gone wrong. I say "involved in" because Sol is not amongst the injured - though the film very briefly suggests that he was. Now my problem is not with this bit of bait-and-switch, but with the fact that between Natty's arrival at the jobsite and her eventual reunion with Sol, nothing really happens. Natty is told to wait for her father, then driven up the mountain to where he's working. Then she's driven back, but hops out of the car. Sol, meanwhile, travels down the mountain with his injured co-workers, missing Natalie, until he eventually (and confusingly) appears in the middle of the road to re-join his wayward daughter. So for the better part of 10 minutes, the film decides to stretch out a very simple game of "car-tag" because apparently the screenwriter thought that having a bit of drama at the very end was unnecessary. This was unfortunately one of those endings where I had to go back and re-watch a few times, thinking that maybe I'd missed something. Unfortunately the film then offers nothing in the way of a denouement, with Natalie and Sol warmly embracing each other on a mountain road as the credits very suddenly begin to roll.
John Cusack returns in "Better Off Dead 2: Suicidal Boogaloo"
In my Escape to Witch Mountain post I noted that the year 1975 was a diverse year for Walt Disney Productions, with that film pointing toward the darker turn Disney’s film slate would take by the end of the decade. With The Journey of Natty Gann, released a decade later, we see the pendulum begin to swing back the other way. While not every live-action film Disney released in the early ‘80s was dark or adult-oriented (awful Love Bug sequel Herbie Goes Bananas was released two months after gothic nail-biter Watcher In the Woods, for example,) the studio’s increasingly diversified slate under president Ron Miller (a former student/football star at USC and husband to Walt’s daughter, Diane) was a significant departure for the “house of mouse” and it’s squeaky-clean public image. Their attempts at a more mature tone seemingly backfired, however, as the film studio’s steady financial decline suddenly became more of a freefall. Several high-profile box office flops - including 1980’s Midnight Madness and 1982’s TRON - came to define Disney’s tarnished image to the rest of Hollywood. Then, following Miller’s ousting by Disney’s board of directors (led by Roy E. Disney, Stanley Gold and Sid Bass,) in stepped new CEO Michael Eisner in 1984. Along with his appointed film studio chief, Jeffrey Katzenberg, Eisner set about remaking the studio into a more family-oriented, money-making machine.
Some snacks aren't fit for Instagram...
Significantly, during this corporate shake-up Disney released no movies in all of 1984 - and the four it put out the following year can easily be seen as a bit of “house cleaning,” releasing the last few projects started under Miller’s tenure. This isn’t to say there weren’t other projects started under Miller that the company would later reap the benefits of - including the founding of Touchstone Pictures, courting of George Lucas, and funding upstart artist and stop-motion filmmaker Tim Burton. But I digress. Even then, 1985’s first two releases - Walter Murch’s bleak Return to Oz and animated sword-and-sorcery flop The Black Cauldron - could be seen as the “last stand” of the dark corner Disney had wandered into. Once the darkness had spread from live-action into their animated canon, clearly the edges of this particular envelope had been reached.
Once the decade was officially half over, Disney wanted to make it clear that the way forward was to play on their old family-friendly image. Theatrical posters for The Journey of Natty Gann featured a big, bold tagline across the top, actually more of a corporate mission statement than an ad for the film itself: “Unforgettably, Undeniably Disney.” This attention-grabbing statement featured the Disney name in the old familiar “Walt” font, and nearly dwarfed the film's own title. There would be an even less subtle tagline attached to posters advertising the film’s home video release: “The new Disney: Contemporary films for the ‘80s family.” Indeed, while Natty Gann has a grittier and more realistic tone than modern audiences would likely expect from a PG-rated Disney movie, at the time it signaled a definite realignment of not just their film studio, but their entire corporate outlook. Hereafter, the Disney brand would once again be associated with “wholesome” entertainment the whole family could enjoy, and nostalgia would be monetized to it’s fullest.
While something of a "lost stepchild" (released as it was during the great sea change that forever altered the future of Disney and it's audience,) The Journey of Natty Gann is, in many ways, the best that the forgotten genre of "family adventure" has to offer. Full of vivid, realistic acting and nail-biting adventure, the film remains a solid nostalgic favorite of those who grew up in a time when childhood entertainment wasn't always the squeaky-clean, oftentimes vapid fare it would become.
It’s the last Friday the 13th of 2018, so let’s take this opportunity to discuss one of Disney’s more fondly-remembered films of the 1970s. Finish up your laundry and grab your water skis, as today we’ll take a frank look back at 1976’s body-swapping classic Freaky Friday.
Fill my eyes with that double vision...
Most readers are undoubtedly familiar with the film, or at least it’s central concept. Freaky Friday tells the story of young teenager Annabel Andrews (Jodie Foster) and her mother, Ellen (Barbara Harris) - a typical middle-class mother and daughter who love each other despite the fact that they barely tolerate one-another. On a particularly hectic Friday the 13th, both wish (at the exact same moment) that they could switch places with one another. Faster than you can say “Vice Versa,” their consciousnesses are swapped. Each must now deal with the other’s daily routines (well, they don’t have to, but…) and find out that living in the other’s shoes may not be as simple as they’d originally thought. Tidy life-lessons are learned by allmost some.
By no means an original conceit, the hook of a mother and daughter trading places is at least an interesting one. It also seems perfectly suited for Disney, an idea rife with possibilities for humor and emotional resonance. Unfortunately, the concept gets squandered by an extremely weak script and a number of head-scratching directorial and acting choices. As I watched the film unfold, my heart sank further and further as I bore witness to one tediously unfunny gag after another. Was this really the film that many fans hold in such high esteem?
Do not touch the glass, do not approach the glass...
Let’s start with the acting. Fourteen-year old Jodie Foster, who’d wowed audiences earlier the same year in Martin Scorsese's Taxi Driver (and a year before her smirk-tastic role in good old Candleshoe,) gives a reliably smart-aleck performance as the rebellious Annabel. Even at such a young age, Foster’s acting is so natural that while viewing the film one feels less like they’re watching a performance piece than something from a documentary. Once the mind-swap occurs, Foster’s “prim and proper” routine is as funny and realistic as one could expect in such silly circumstances. Barbara Harris, while perfectly game for the physicality of the role, honestly could’ve stepped her acting game up when performing against such a young powerhouse as Foster. Her Ellen character makes little impression from the start, and once the mind-swap occurs she comes off more like she’s acting drunk than mimicking a teenager (slurring her words and loosening up her motor skills.) Granted, she seems to get better as the film rolls along - and her scenes with a young Marc McClure as Annabele's crush are some of the film’s highlights. But something still seems off in her initial performance, as if she was going for an impression of Foster that suffered because it was slightly off-the-mark.
Now here's a movie I'd like to see...
Compared to everyone else in the cast, however, Harris is freaking Laurence Olivier. Almost every other actor in this film (save the aforementioned McClure and young Sparky Marcus, playing Annabel’s younger brother, Ben) seems to be on full-tilt pantomime mode, either chomping up whatever scenery they can or acting like a complete fuck-head. In scene after scene in which either Annabel or Ellen “goofs up” something from the other’s life (and I’m talking stupid little things, like accidentally using a broken typewriter at school or asking to pay a mechanic with cash instead of a check,) the other characters gasp and gurn and guffaw and fucking trip over themselves like they’ve all got severe mental handicaps. Hell, Annabel and Ellen are the ones who’ve literally lost their minds, and they both take this fact in relative stride. Yet they’re surrounded by an entire town full of weirdos who can’t seem to function if something is slightly out of the ordinary in their routines. Witness a band teacher (Fritz Feld) who shudders furiously as Annabel falls out of step with the rest of the marching band, or Ellen’s friend Mary Kay (Karen Smith,) who won’t let up screeching at her that she wants her borrowed hair dryer back for five straight minutes. Did every adult in this town swap minds with toddlers or something?
One of us! One of us! Gooble Gobble!
It’s not all bad on the supporting character front, however. I will give props to comediennes Kaye Ballard and Ruth Buzzi as opposing field-hockey coaches, as both bring somewhat more believably dialed-up performances to their characters. These two are more understandably affected by Annabel’s sudden lack of hockey skills - Ballard, as her coach, visibly grimacing as she makes a goal for the wrong team (and Buzzi, as the opposing team’s coach, cheering her on.) Ballard and Buzzi (which sounds like a vaudeville act now that I think about it) both seem to know exactly how much energy is required for their brief appearances, and don’t go overboard with goofball comedy.
You just put your lips together, and blow...
Unfortunately, much like the presence of Harvey Korman in Disney’s later stink-nugget Herbie Goes Bananas, this film features not one, but two assholes of immense proportions. First is the Andrews’ housekeeper, Mrs. Schmauss (played by Harris’ future North Avenue Irregulars co-star Patsy Kelly.) A gruff old woman who’s bluntly hinted at being an alcoholic, Schmauss spends her entire stint at the Andrew’s household berating young Annabel’s cleaning habits and demeanor, ranting that she was “sure to be using dope” soon, and about how “the mother and father are to blame.” Sadly, it’s suggested that Ellen is used to her disrespectful griping, but has put up with her in the past. Luckily, once Annabel (in Ellen’s body) gets an earful of her bile, she sends the old bitch packing.
Cara mia...
The worse offender, however, is husband and father Bill, played by John Astin. Familiar from his role as Gomez in TV’s The Addams Family (and famed for his leering, wide-eyes grin,) Astin seems as though he’s trying his darndest to play the Andrews family patriarch as a well-meaningly overwhelmed guy; unfortunately for him, the character is a completely selfish clod. Having recruited his wife to help entertain a large group of business clients following a waterfront gala, he’s also strong-armed not only his daughter, but her entire ski club into performing an aquacade show at said gala (against the advice of his bosses, who wisely suggest that the cheapskate would've been better off hiring professional performers.) Besides loading Ellen up with an entire day of chores and errands (including “carefully” pressing his “genuine silk” shirts,) he then proceeds to demand that she prepare a “gourmet spread” (in less than 3 hours!) for his clients AFTER HE FUCKS THINGS UP with the caterers. Isn’t it wonderful when a guy puts his whole career on the shoulders of the women in his family? And, as Ellen discovers, he also has a ‘hot secretary’ at work that he never told her about. Ugh. A character seemingly stuck in the ‘50s Father Knows Best mindset, Mr. Wonderful hits bottom when, confronted with Annabel confessing that she can’t perform on water skis because she’s actually Ellen, he shoves his daughter out onto the water so as not to look bad in front of his clients. When she proceeds to accidentally cause the floating observation deck Bill and his clients occupy to sink, it’s a damn shame they don’t let the bastard drown with that big stupid smile on his face.
The joy of cooking...
I suppose I should lay some blame for these bizarre characterizations on the filmmakers rather than the actors (to spread the blame around, at least.) Author and musician Mary Rodgers adapted her own 1972 children’s novel into the screenplay - so at the very least we can say that the story was kept true to the author’s intent. Rodgers chose to incorporate large swaths of Annabel and Ellen’s thoughts in the form of voiceovers from Foster and Harris. These monotonous inner-monologues drag each scene down, as we’re left watching the characters sitting and nodding along to nothing, or silently going about their shenanigans while the other actress limply reads her lines off-screen. Rodgers also added on the water skiing/aquacade subplot, perhaps to add some theatrical pizzazz to the otherwise dull affair.
The money shot...
And of course, being a live action Disney film released in the ‘70s, a “wacky chase” must occur at some point. Here it comes near the climax, as Annabel clumsily drives Ellen’s Volkswagen across town to rescue her mother from said aquacade (seeing the red Beetle careen around made me miss Herbie already.) She ends up being pursued by police, who are naturally completely inept and end up getting out-run by a kid with no driving experience. Like many a ‘70s feature obsessed with “hilariously” destroying piles of police cars (see The Cannonball Run, Smokey and The Bandit, Diamonds Are Forever, The Dukes of Hazard, etc. etc.)(speaking of which: Sorrell “Boss Hogg” Booke plays Annabel’s principal. Coincidence!? Yes!), we bear witness to squad-cars ending up on two wheels, or being smashed out-of-shape, or splitting in two when colliding with a dividing barrier. Perhaps whatever supernatural force swapped Ellen and Annabel’s minds also let physics take the day off on this fucked-up Friday?
I'm imagining your frame, every angle and every plane...
Director Gary Nelson made only this film and 1979’s The Black Hole for Disney (which is an infamous box office bomb that I happen to adore,) and seemed more at home directing for television. For whatever reason, Nelson chooses to draw every gag out to levels of tedium - whether it’s the endless police-car chase, or a scene of Ellen over-stuffing a washing machine full of rugs and detergent. Clocking in at a fairly brief 95 minutes, one wonders how short the film would’ve ended up had each scene been edited with an eye towards decent comic-timing. Unfortunately, the fact of the matter is that Nelson did the best with what he was given - and what he was given was a lousy screenplay.
Another happy readthrough...
The main issue with the script is, bewilderingly, the absence of emotional resonance. This is very odd - not only because this is typically Disney’s bread and butter, but also since the story’s premise all but demands it. Besides the briefest of scenes at the beginning, Ellen and Annabel have no interaction on-screen until the end of the “wacky water show” climax. The two of them decide to see what the other’s life is like, but spend most of the time having to react to a world of over-the-top idiots and a demanding asshat husband. I understand that this is meant to show them that the others’ lives aren’t easy - but if the mean-spirited goofiness had let up for just one moment of reflection, this point could’ve actually come across. Besides an admittedly sweet scene in which Annabel reconciles with her adoring little brother, any emotional growth is swapped out for comedic exhaustion. By the time the mother and daughter have come together at the film’s end (back in their correct bodies,) the inevitable “I love you’s” feel hollow - an unearned emotional payoff that leaves one wondering why the story never properly got off the ground.
Time for daddy-dearest's asshole intervention...
I don’t know. I feel like I may be a bit over-negative on the film (wouldn’t be the first time,) or that I may’ve liked it more had I watched this film at another time (I had to rush to get this out by Friday the 13th.) I’d always thought that Freaky Friday was a movie held in fairly high regard amongst fans - and Disney itself, seeing as how they’ve remade it three times (a 1995 TV-movie starring Shelley Long and Gaby Hoffmann; the well-known 2003 theatrical remake with Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan; and a musical version with Heidi Blickenstaff and Cozi Zuehlsdorff - itself adapted from a Broadway adaptation - set to premiere on the Disney Channel later this summer.) Yet a quick perusal of the internet seems to show that I’m not alone in my consternation of the film. Besides a handful of the typically saccharine “A Family Classic!” and “Great Disney Entertainment!” comments you hear from both vacuous fansite reviews and blurb-hungry critics, many agree that the film is sadly dated, unfunny, badly written and poorly executed. Perhaps I’ll someday get around to looking at one of the other versions - which would be unusual for me, since I’ve never really been a fan of remakes. However, it’s hard to imagine Disney adapting the concept into a worse film, so maybe I’ll end up finding something to enjoy in one or more of their do-overs. After all, sometimes there’s no accounting for taste.
It had been 8 years since audiences last caught sight of Herbie, the"living car turned movie star," in action (25 years if they hadn’t caught his 1997 “TV Movie”.) Quickly becoming another fondly-remembered footnote in Disney’s ever-growing history, it seemed unlikely that the Love Bug borne of the long-passed “flower power” movement would ever grace movie marquees again. Always one to defy expectations, however, Herbie came roaring back to theaters in the new millennium, introducing himself to a new generation of young moviegoers in an entertaining (though divisive) new movie. Let’s take a ride back to 2005 and join Herbie for what is - for the moment - his final lap, in the underrated Herbie: Fully Loaded.
Or: Herbie - A Girl's Best Friend
We rejoin the plucky little Bug as he is once again hauled off to a scrapyard after his racing career peters out (does no one ever think to donate him to an auto museum?). He’s soon rescued when purchased by Ray Peyton (Michael Keaton) as a college graduation gift for his daughter, former street-racer Maggie (Lindsay Lohan.) The youngest from a NASCAR family, Maggie harbors a stifled desire to return to the world of auto racing, but has been held back by her widower father following an accident years prior. Her older brother, Ray Jr. (Breckin Meyer,) is instead pushed to qualify for races despite the fact that he’s not very good. Having gained a new lease on life, Herbie soon gets up to his old tricks; he plays matchmaker for Maggie and her goofy friend, Kevin (Justin Long, whose character naturally happens to be a mechanic,) and shows off his skills as a sprightly racing car - drawing the jealous ire of an egotistical racer named Trip Murphy (played with contained bitterness by Matt Dillon.)
You can have the keys to Herbie, but not the Batmobile.
Lohan, in her fifth and so far final role for Disney (and a year after her breakthrough performance in 2004’s Mean Girls,) puts in a warm and believable (if ever-so-slightly disconnected) performance. Given her reported problems during filming (she was at one point hospitalized with a kidney infection, reportedly brought on by work-induced stress) it’s commendable that she didn’t completely “phone-in” her performance. Remember, this was still a few years before “La Lohan” became the infamous shoplifting, court-skipping, drugged-out nightclub co-owner we all know and love today. Watching the talented young actress acting alongside a cuddly living car, knowing that she would soon crash and burn so rapidly, is honestly a little bittersweet.
Lindsay and her hangover shades...
The rest of the cast put in decent performances - especially considering that only the bare minimum of acting effort is required in a film like this. Michael Keaton, a few years from his late-career comeback, fills the role of “concerned-but-proud” father reliably, his frequent bouts of frustration hinting at a deeper well of emotion than scripted. Justin Long (who, despite continuously appearing in film and television since 1999, seems to simply exist in the mid-2000s) comes off very well as the sidekick-turned-love interest. Long thankfully makes the role his own, not trying to be the comic relief and finally breaking the “Hackett/Knotts” curse. Matt Dillon, as noted above, underplays his role as a vain NASCAR driver until late in the film, thankfully forgoing the crazed villainy of such previous “Herbie” foes as Keenan Wynn and John Hannah. Also on hand is Curb Your Enthusiasm’s Cheryl Hines playing Sally, one of Team Peyton’s few remaining sponsors. Had this film not been aimed at a teenage audience, Herbie would’ve surely played cupid between Hines’ and Keaton’s characters. And Breckin Meyer is here, too … being Breckin Meyer.
Of course I'm a racer - I was in Rat Race!
Unlike the previous “Herbie” films (but like many contemporary comedies,) Herbie: Fully Loaded is … well, fully loaded with wall-to-wall music. The licensed music includes a number of well-known FM-radio staples, including Van Halen’s"Jump"(played as Herbie springs into action to save Maggie during a demolition derby) and Lionel Richie’s “Hello” (when Herbie falls for a yellow “new” VW Beetle - I guess Giselle was just a fling after all.) A number of Beach Boys songs (and other “beach music” sound-alikes) are also utilized for action on and off the race track, befitting the film’s Southern California setting and bright, sunny visuals. There are also a number of unfortunate covers featuring then-current “Disney Channel” artists, including Aly & AJ butchering Katrina and the Waves’ "Walking on Sunshine." By the way, I would encourage anyone watching this movie to switch off once the end credits start rolling, as Lindsay Lohan’s song “First” pops up to contaminate your speakers. The film’s score, composed by former DEVO member Mark Mothersbaugh, is nothing to write home about. One of Mothersbaugh’s weaker efforts (having composed music for dozens of movies and TV productions since the mid-1980s, including Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, The Royal Tenenbaums and Thor: Ragnarok,) the broadly-comic score brings to mind Bruce Broughton’s so-so work on Disney’s Honey, I Blew Up the Kid from a decade earlier. On the other hand, having George Bruns’ venerable “Herbie Theme” blast out of the soundtrack during the typical “Herbie takes new owner for a wild ride” sequence is a lovely touch.
Slug Bug!
Speaking of Herbie, the little Bug is more animated than ever thanks to a bevy of new special effects - both practical and computer-generated. Beyond his usual oil-squirting, two-wheel driving antics (as well as his signature wheelie,) Herbie pulls off several more acrobatic and downright gravity-defying stunts - including driving up on a fence to pass other drivers. While Herbie’s origins as the bi-product of a crazy science experiment are (thankfully) ignored here, we do get a bit more insight into how Herbie bonds with his human drivers. We get to see Herbie's point-of-view thanks to a number of “fisheye lens” shots, and witness a sequence in which a “spark” is shown to travel through his engine as Maggie takes the wheel. Herbie is therefore able to perform a "rail-riding" skateboard stunt during their initial street-race together - a move that Maggie later admits she’d “wished” she could do at that moment. Herbie also seems to be acting a lot more like he did back in the original film, becoming emotionally distraught when he is ignored or shunned for a newer car. Just as Jim Douglas had to rescue Herbie from attempted suicide, Maggie must convince Herbie that she really does believe in him after he willingly allows himself to be mangled in a demolition derby.
Runnin' with the devil...
While some have balked over Herbie’s new “extreme” abilities in Fully Loaded, there’s been a tradition in these films to have Herbie perform new and increasingly over-the-top stunts in each successive sequel. Honestly, is Herbie hopping onto a guardrail any more unbelievable than him driving on the ceiling in Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo, or sliding up the suspension cables of the Golden Gate Bridge in Herbie Rides Again? Besides, we’re talking about a movie starring a living car - so maybe one should think twice before picking these particular nits?
Hobo Herbie rides the rails...
I will admit, however, that there was one moment in this film when I felt the filmmakers had taken things a step too far. At one point, after Trip tries to bribe Maggie into taking a ride in his souped-up stock car, Herbie makes a mocking “crazy face” behind his back. And oh my God! Why in the hell did they make Herbie pull such a bizarre, cartoonish, badly CG-rendered expression!? Surely one of his good ol’ “hood raspberries” would’ve elicited a laugh from the kids in the audience. Why go through the trouble of making such a lousy new effect? While Herbie’s always been acrobatic, he’s never before (or at any point later in this film) been able to change the molecular structure of his own body! He’s made of metal like any other car, not rubber! This is Herbie the Love Bug, not Bennie the fucking cab! Despite liking this film overall, this one instance nearly took me out of the whole thing.
Perhaps it’s the divisive nature of Herbie: Fully Loaded that has lead to it’s low-standing in fan circles. While the film was a modest success at the box office (making back nearly triple it’s budget,) the film was critically pummeled, receiving a 40% on review-aggregator website Rotten Tomatoes - a mere 1% improvement on the score for Herbie Goes Bananas. Hell, in spite of it’s decent box office, the film’s “audience approval” index tallies an even worse 38% (again, just one point higher than the audience score for Bananas.) Frankly, I don’t see what everyone’s complaining about. While not nearly as good a film as the 1968 original, I was pleasantly surprised by Herbie: Fully Loaded. And it should go without saying that it’s by far an improvement over it’s sick-inducingly awful 1980 predecessor. Like the better films of the “Herbie” franchise, this movie kept the focus on the racing (in this case NASCAR) and the emotional arc of both Herbie and his human friends.
Did I ever tell you how close I was to winning Best Actor for Birdman?
But the fact of the matter is that by 2005 the majority of critics and audiences weren’t coming into this movie as the next in a series of films, but as a stand-alone movie. And as such, Herbie: Fully Loaded isn’t great. The plot is a predictable mish-mash of underdog sports movie (and teen movie) clichés, the characters are thinly-drawn, and director Angela Robinson (fresh off debut feature D.E.B.S.) seems to have taken the assignment simply for the paycheck. Additionally, the fact that the film was made and marketed specifically as a kid/teen movie - a departure from the older films’ more adult-oriented humor - probably put a lot of folks off. The sad fact is that by 2005, when Disney produced what they liked to call “family entertainment,” what they actually meant was “a movie for kids,” rather than something the entire family could honestly enjoy. More likely the whole family would actually be spending their movie-going money going to see PG-13 rated fare, such as the studio’s own Pirates of the Caribbean films. Or something made by Pixar.
Jeepers creepers - why the Long face?
It could also be the case that because Lohan, who was the main focus of the film’s marketing more so then her vehicular co-star, has since become a poster-child for privileged young-Hollywood excess, the movie’s ongoing reputation has suffered as a result.
Who knows? Perhaps the fact that I’ve mostly been watching Herbie movies and TV productions for over a month now has clouded my judgment. Just seeing the old Bug appear in a glossy new-ish film was, for me, a nice little reward for sitting through a few of his more disappointing adventures. Plus, as I’d said back in my first Love Bug post, Herbie’s original success was mostly a convergence of the right material being released at the right time, regardless of the film’s high quality. The fact is that, on the whole, popular entertainment has gotten steadily more sophisticated as time’s moved on (“reality TV” notwithstanding.) You couldn’t put out high-concept productions like Gilligan’s Island or (to use a more spot-on example) My Mother The Car and expect to have a long-running success in this day and age. A story focused around a sentient machine is now only acceptable as science-fiction. To put out a comedy based on such a concept to an adult audience would make you the laughing-stock of Hollywood - unless you were doing so ironically, or dressing up such a production with gross-out humor. One could imagine, for example, Family Guy and Ted creator Seth MacFarlane producing such a film - and probably voicing said car himself. For better or worse, any new movie about a living Volkswagen could really only be released as youth entertainment.
Herbie: Fully Sponsored...
As we wrap up our look at all of Herbie's adventures, we have to wonder where this leaves him? We’re currently a couple years off matching the longest gap between “Herbie” productions, which was the 15-year gap between the 1982 TV series and the “TV Movie” in ‘97. Rumors hit the internet last year that Disney was considering rebooting the franchise as a television show on their tween-oriented DisneyXD channel, and would feature either a young boy or girl as the main protagonist. Unfortunately said rumors also indicated that the "new Herbie" could be a secret government-built super-car that talks, rather than a mystical child of the love generation. So perhaps it would be best if this particular project never sees the light of day. Herbie’s not supposed to be KITT, after all.
It’s hard to imagine that Disney wouldn’t try, at some point in the future, to bring back their lovable little car in some form. Against all odds, Herbie has remained firmly entrenched as one of filmdom’s most unlikely iconic characters. Whether Disney chooses to reboot, relaunch or otherwise revisit Herbie, I don’t doubt that we will see the Love Bug ride again one day.
When we last saw Herbie - the plucky little Volkswagen with a mind of his own - he’d been run ragged and stunk of rotten fruit following the release of the embarrassingly awful “comedy,” Herbie Goes Bananas. By the dawn of the 1980s, the franchise had clearly been run without a tune-up for too long. Much like the once-sprightly “love bug” himself, the series was in need of a rest before returning to the silver screen. Rather than letting Herbie drive off into the sunset of nostalgia, however, Disney would put their vehicular mascot to work on the small screen; Herbie would therefore be called upon to front a pair of television productions aired some 15 years apart. So before Herbie takes his final lap, let’s take a look at his adventures in television.
Groovy...
Herbie’s first foray into television, as we’ve discussed previously, came back in 1971 when he was featured in The Grand Opening of Walt Disney World TV special. Appearing alongside his Love Bug co-star Buddy Hackett, the duo faced off against a handful of genuine race car drivers at the Magic Kingdom’s Grand Prix Raceway attraction. This infamous bit is memorable for seeing Hackett use a giant wind-up key to start Herbie - because apparently nobody associated with that program had ever seen The Love Bug (or seemed to know what the hell was going on in general.)
'Memba TV Guide?
Herbie’s big break into broadcast TV would come a decade later, in the form of a full-on TV series. Herbie, The Love Bug was a mid-season replacement which ran on the CBS network for 5 episodes in March and April of 1982. Starring Dean Jones as Herbie’s on-again/off-again friend and driver, Jim Douglas, the show followed the retired racing star as he meets and becomes engaged to divorcée and mother-of-three Susan MacLane (played by Patricia Harty) - with a little help from Herbie, of course. Attempting to sabotage the couple’s courtship is Susan’s jealous ex-fiancé, Randy, played with ineffectual bluster by M*A*S*H’s Larry Linville. The cast is rounded out by Richard Paul as the prerequisite goofy mechanic pal, Bo (sort of a low-rent substitute for both Hackett and Don Knotts), and Susan’s three kids: oldest daughter Julie (a pre-Back to the Future Claudia Wells,) middle son Matthew (Nicky Katt) and edge-of-precocious Robbie (Douglas Emerson.) Actress Natalie Core also appears as the ex- fiancé’s mother, Mrs. Bigelow, so that we can get someone who says “Randy, why are you still obsessing over that woman?” in every episode.
Keeping up with the Joneses...
Though officially categorized as a sitcom, I have trouble describing the show as such, since it neither looks nor feels like contemporary sitcoms such as Taxi or Too Close For Comfort (why did I choose those two examples? Well, if you must know: Taxi has cars in it, and I freaking love Too Close For Comfort - so there.) Instead, Herbie, The Love Bug fits into that particular sub-genre that viewers (and reviewers) can’t seem to decide should be dubbed “comedy-drama” or simply “hour-long comedy.” Herbie, in fact, seems to be better bed-fellows with such contemporaneous programs as The Love Boat and Fantasy Island - or such current quirky favorites as Jane the Virgin and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. While the show has plenty of wacky antics (mostly focused on Herbie consistently foiling Randy’s attempts at sabotage,) the show mostly revolves around Jim and Susan coming to terms with integrating their relationship into her family life. Closer to a light-hearted domestic drama than a knockabout comedy, coming into this show straight off the strained goofiness of Herbie Goes Bananas came as something of a respite for this blogger.
Fun fact: The jauntily corny theme song, entitled “Herbie, My Best Friend,” was actually performed by Dean Jones himself - presumably in character. Here it is, for your Summer listening pleasure:
The pilot episode - in which Jim and Susan meet after Herbie helps to foil a robbery at her bank - was helmed by veteran TV director Charles S. Dubin, and establishes the show’s premise and main cast well. The following four episodes find directing duties rotating between returning series director Vincent McEveety and Bill Bixby (best remembered as Dr. Banner in TV’s Incredible Hulk, but also a prolific director and producer.) Episodes 2 and 3 cover the troubled road to Jim and Susan’s wedding, which itself occurs in episode 4. The 5th episode almost seems out-of-place, detailing the day-to-day struggles of the newlyweds adjusting to married (and extended family) life. Perhaps this final installment was a window into what a continuing series would’ve looked like, had it been renewed?
Domesticated Herbie...
All episodes save for one (more on this in a moment) were written by Arthur Alsberg and Don Nelson, the sitcom-writing duo responsible for Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo. Alsberg and Nelson wisely ignore the events of Herbie Goes Bananas, establishing Jim and Herbie as ongoing friends and partners who set up a driving school following their retirement from racing. Their “Famous Driving School” seems to cater exclusively to kindly old ladies (a nod, perhaps, to Herbie Rides Again) - whom Herbie is able to assist when they fail to notice the occasional STOP sign or missed turn. Another main storyline focuses on Susan’s opposition to auto racing, since her first husband abandoned the family to become a racecar driver. Therefore the series ends up featuring only a couple of racing scenes. However, unlike previous film entries in which Herbie did not race, it makes sense within the established story. But despite this lack of racing scenes (and the fact that Herbie himself features less than most of the human cast,) Herbie, The Love Bug actually does feel like a continuation of the film series - certainly more so than the most recent sequel did.
Now cut that out!
While the show is an inoffensively pleasant, fairly breezy affair, I have to admit that the best episode by a long mile is episode 3. This installment heavily references the events of Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo, and features the return of Jim’s love interest from that film, Diane Darcy (played here by Andrea Howard, replacing Julie Sommars for some reason) - whom is invited to Jim’s bachelor party in an attempt by Randy to make Susan jealous. Oddly enough, despite extensively referencing the third film, as noted above this is the only episode that wasn’t penned by the writers of that movie; instead this episode was scribed by Herbie Goes Bananas screenwriter Don Tait. Despite the ire flung at him in my review for that movie, I must admit that his teleplay here - a somewhat wackier installment than the surrounding four episodes - entertains thoroughly. Perhaps more at home with writing for television, or working better within another writer’s framework, Tait’s work here - his very last screenplay, as of this writing - is fun and efficient in it's on-point comedy.
Herbie gets 'em to the church on time...
While the show’s brief run seemingly signaled the end of Herbie’s adventures, Disney wouldn’t let the little Bug disappear entirely. Besides keeping his memory alive through televised repeats and home video releases of his theatrical films, Herbie became a rare but consistent mainstay at Disney’s theme parks - but we’ll go into that in a future "Theme Park Rundown," of course.
And then, fifteen years after the conclusion of his short-lived TV series, Herbie suddenly returned to the small screen in the form of a made-for-TV movie. Titled The Love Bug (usually referred to as The Love Bug ‘97 or “The TV Movie” to differentiate it from the 1968 original,) this rarely-seen Herbie adventure aired on ABC’s version of The Wonderful World of Disney on November 30, 1997. It was directed by Peyton Reed, who two years prior had overseen a Kirk Cameron-starring TV-remake of The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes, and would go on to direct Bring It On three years later (before taking the reigns of Marvel’s Ant-Man franchise starting in 2015.)
Okay, now a silly one you guys!
Hovering somewhere between a remake, reboot and continuation, the film sees Herbie worn-out but back on the racing circuit, under the drivership of an arrogant Scottish racer named Simon Moore III (played by John Hannah, familiar from the Mummy films and Starz’ Spartacus series.) After Moore dismissively gives Herbie up for scrap, he is rescued after being put into a “junk-car race.” There, small-time racer and mechanic Hank Cooper (the one-and-only Bruce Campbell) repairs and races Herbie, ending up the winner. One of the judges of the event is Alex Davis (Alexandra Wentworth) - an automotive magazine reporter and, naturally, Hank’s ex-girlfriend - so you can see where this is heading from the get-go.
By the way, as a fan of the Evil Dead series it came as quite a kick for me to see Bruce Campbell (“Ash” himself) appearing here - the first in a handful of appearances the quintessential B-movie star would make for Disney. Campbell is in “average Joe” mode here, however, playing a nondescript “vanilla” hero rather than the chainsaw-wielding badass familiar to the Fangoria set.
Good, bad - I'm the guy with the Bug...
Much of what occurs in this version of The Love Bug follows the original film (and it’s follow-ups to some degree): we have Herbie playing matchmaker to his driver and an initially reluctant love interest; an eccentric buddy (Kevin J. O'Connor as Roddy, a sculptor like Tennessee Steinmetz) whom early-on realizes the car’s sentience; a scene in which an emotional lead character realizes that Herbie has feelings; and a wacky climactic race. Really the only factor that doesn’t make this a remake is the mid-movie arrival of good ol’ Dean Jones as Jim Douglas, who arrives following Herbie’s destruction (SPOILERS!) to assist in rebuilding him. Jones, noticeably older by this point (the wide-shouldered business suits he wears here making his head look positively puny,) offers a few tidbits to the new characters about Herbie’s background, as well as the sole reference to the 1982 TV series to be found in any “Herbie” production, mentioning that Herbie helped him “meet his wife.” Jones also provides a brief narration at the start of he film, which significantly contextualizes Herbie’s rise to fame within the zeitgeist of the late ‘60s “love generation.”
What those familiar with the previous “Herbie” films may not see coming, however, is that this Love Bug goes somewhere unexpected and not entirely warranted: into an origin story. You see, once Herbie inevitably starts helping Hank win more races, a jealous Moore (slightly more crazy than most of Herbie’s previous nemeses) seeks to discover what makes the little VW Bug so special. He soon digs up one Dr. Gustav Stumpfel (Harold Gould,) the heretofore unheard of German scientist who, when tasked with creating a “people’s car” that would become the Volkswagen Beetle, inadvertently created a sentient “Love Bug” after a picture of his beloved wife accidentally fell into the vat of special metal he was brewing to make into the car. WHAA!?!
Mein Gott! Das auto!
This reveal is … odd, to put it one way. Ignoring the fact that the screenwriter (Ryan Rowe) chose to link Herbie's origin to a quasi-historical/fictional context (essentially making Herbie the progenitor of the entire VW Beetle "race",) it also shifts the core concept of the character. That Herbie, previously portrayed as a car that obtained consciousness through love, is now revealed to be the result of a “mad scientist” trope is fairly disappointing. This story reframes the image of Herbie as a byproduct of alchemy rather than a child of mysticism - a “happy accident” of human invention, rather than one bourne from pure thought. While the idea that Dr. Stumpfel’s love for his wife brought about emotional awareness within his creation is an interesting one, it somehow doesn’t quite fit in with the Herbie we’ve been witness to before (especially when he’s acted like a little thug several times before.)
She could tell right away that I was bad to the bone...
This brings us to the part of The Love Bug ‘97 that people seem to remember most: Horace, the Hate Bug. In the film the point of Moore’s uncovering of Dr. Stumpfel is to trick the eccentric old inventor into recreating his previous experiment, and then perverting said work by tossing a picture of himself into the “magic ingredients.” The resulting creation is a jet-black, souped-up Beetle that Moore dubs “Horace.” Unlike the gentle, child-like Herbie, Horace is a machine seething with rage and possessing an instinct to destroy (and even comes equipped with James Bond-style offensive weapons.) Another intriguing idea that gets rather bungled in the execution, the idea of a hate-filled “anti-Herbie” seems like a great addition to the franchise. Unfortunately, when framed within this film’s weird science theme, any idea of a “living car without a soul” ends up functioning more like a villain’s “super weapon” than it’s own character - frowning bumper or not. And the less said about Horace’s demise (in which he crashes through the ground, literally surrounded by flaming hellfire) the better.
Horace Goes to Hell!
Despite the presence of Dean Jones, a focus on auto racing and (admittedly superficial) discussions of love and hate, there’s something about this TV rehash that somehow feels … off. Not that it’s a bad movie by any means - while not great, it’s enjoyable and even has moments of genuine wit. It’s just that there are some small, niggling issues that really prevent it from fitting in with Herbie’s other adventures. This specific situation should sound familiar to older fans of the long-running English series Doctor Who (I’m going to go off on a bit of a tangent here, so my apologies.) That show, which ran uninterrupted from 1963 to 1989 (and began airing on PBS stations in the US in the mid ‘70s) was resurrected as a made-for-TV movie in 1996 as a co-production between the BBC and the FOX network. That movie (which in fandom is usually referred to as “The TV Movie” as well,) despite a number of call-backs and continuity references, looked and felt disconnected from it’s parent franchise - just like The Love Bug. For one, both “TV Movies” featured a returning cast member to lend some credence to their existence (Dean Jones in The Love Bug, “Seventh Doctor” Sylvester McCoy in Doctor Who,) as well as out-of-place quasi-celebrity cameos in bit-parts (comedian and MadTV performer Will Sasso as a morgue attendant in Doctor Who, ex-Monkee Micky Dolenz as a cigar-chomping car dealer in The Love Bug.) Both films also feature somewhat bland music; John Debney’s Doctor Who score sounds more like selections from FOX series Sliders, and Shirley Walker’s Love Bug score is forgotten almost as soon as it’s heard. This is a real shame, since Walker's work for modern classic Batman: The Animated Series featured some of the best music on television just a few years prior. At least Debney got to use the original Doctor Who theme, whereas George Bruns’ famous “Herbie Theme” is nowhere to be heard here.
Why do I bring up Doctor Who? Well, the similarities between these two attempts at reviving a long-running franchise is too great to ignore, especially since both came out within a year of one-another. Hell, maybe I just wanted to write an entry that brought up The Evil Dead,Doctor Who and Batman? Incidentally, both “TV Movies” also ended up being dead-ends, as Herbie’s franchise would go dormant again thereafter, and Doctor Who failed to act as a “backdoor pilot” for a revived series. It would take both franchises a few more years to return to popular culture again, and would both stage successful returns in 2005. But more on that in the next entry...
Two players. Two sides. One is light... one is dark.
As we’ve seen, Herbie may have gone through a few long periods of rest, but he never really went away. Though largely forgotten, Herbie’s adventures in television kept the little living car puttering around in the public consciousness, like a well-known acquaintance always hovering in the background. Disney, both under Ron Miller and later Michael Eisner, knew that they still had a popular character on their hands, and wouldn’t let the opportunity to use him slip by; they just needed a few small-screen pit-stops to ensure the little old car would be ready for his inevitable big-screen victory lap.
