Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Blackbeard's Ghost

Avast, beanrakes! Today we’ll jump back to the heyday of Disney’s wacky live-action comedies, for a look at what may be their wackiest comedy yet - or at least one that’s a lot more fun to watch than this bilge-rat blogger was expecting: 1968’s Blackbeard’s Ghost!


Following a foreboding prologue (detailing the crimes of the dastardly Blackbeard,) we are introduced to Steve Walker (played by the ever-amiable Dean Jones, whom I can’t believe we haven’t gotten to before now!), the new coach for a pathetic college track team in the small seaside town of Godolphin. After settling in at the run-down Blackbeard’s Inn (brought to evocative life through Peter Ellenshaw’s matte paintings,) Walker soon takes a fancy to local college professor Jo Ann Baker (smoky-voiced Suzanne Pleshette,) who tells him of the Inn’s historical links to the legendary pirate. Run by a group of elderly women who are unable to pay their mortgage (and who are supposedly distant relatives to Blackbeard himself,) the Inn is soon to be taken over by a group of local gamblers (Disney-speak for “mafia”.) To help out the “sweet old ladies” (and impress Professor Baker,) Walker purchases an antique bed warmer that once belonged to one of Blackbeard’s wives during the Inn’s charity auction. Later that night, he discovers a scroll hidden inside the item, upon which are written a number of spells and incantations. Reading them aloud (as you do,) the ghost of the dread pirate Blackbeard suddenly appears!
 
I don't think we're at Columbia Harbor House anymore, Toto...

The film that then plays out is not so much the grim tale of a man haunted by a cutthroat pirate, as had been hinting at thus far, but something more akin to a supernatural Odd Couple. Peter Ustinov, who plays the swashbuckling specter of the title, delivers a loutish, unhinged performance that reveals the pirate as more blustering than bloodthirsty. Anyone familiar with Ustinov’s performance as Prince John in 1973’s animated Robin Hood will instantly recognize his voice - albeit with more 'Cockney' here. Crestfallen that he has been saddled with the straight-laced Walker as a companion (upon his invitation to share some rum: “I don’t drink.” “DON’T DRINK!?!?”,) Blackbeard spends the majority of his afterlife snatching bottles of booze and bemoaning that the modern world is no fun. Reimagining the expired pirate like some supernatural John Bonham (or at least someone’s pathetically-loveable drunk uncle,) the portrayal of Blackbeard as a debaucherous, fun-loving drunk rather than a murderous villain probably went a long way toward softening the image of piracy to the movie-going public (as well as paving the way for a future well-known movie pirate captain.) Ustinov even gets in a few bits that probably wouldn’t fly with Disney today, such as his attempts to down a bottle of rubbing alcohol when nothing else is available.

 
Dean Jones is sure to get the point

The chemistry between Ustinov and Jones - who’s constantly exasperated and pleading with the pirate to behave himself - is a delight. That no one but Walker can see Blackbeard leads to most of the film’s silly Invisible Man-style humor. An early sequence in which Blackbeard attempts to commandeer Walker’s car is a tour-de-force of physical comedy, as he flops about the convertible’s seats and hood while shouting out random nautical commands. The pair soon run afoul of a mystified police officer, who stares in disbelief as the unseen pirate attempts to make off with his motorcycle (promptly crashing it, or course.) This scene, as wacky as anything else in Disney’s live-action films, had me laughing aloud several times. Having a tipple of rum while viewing certainly doesn’t hurt, of course (it is Pirates Week, after all.) Having the script lead to Blackbeard betting all the money he steals from Professor Baker (“the odd flimsy I removed from the pocketbook of your bookish wench,” as he memorably puts it) on the college’s awful track team leads to a series of “why didn’t I see this coming” gags involving the unseen fiend tripping up the opposing team’s athletes. This echoes (perhaps purposefully) similar “cheating for a good cause” wackiness from Disney’s Absent-Minded Professor films.
 
Spiced rum!? Yar! That so-called "Captain" Morgan can kiss me arse!

The only time when the “invisible pirate” gag doesn’t quite work is in the film’s climax - though it’s not the fault of the script or even the corny special effects. Forced into action by the stubborn refusal of casino-owner Silky Seymour (played by pencil-mustachioed Joby Baker) to pay Professor Baker her winnings (and thereby denying the “sweet old ladies” their mortgage money,) Walker enlists Blackbeard to help him “set straight” his bungling gang of toughs. Like most other live-action comedies I’ve covered, this ends up in a “wacky fight scene,” that sees Walker making imaginary “bang-bang” gunshots with his finger while the unseen pirate flattens each thugs with a swift knock to the jaw (prompting one of the goons to cry “Get his gun!”) The scene naturally escalates, with Blackbeard tossing the thugs over his head, into blackjack tables and through doors. This is all well and good, but strangely the entire scene is played without any musical accompaniment - rendering much of the slapstick strangely sterile. It’s a shame, for as far as these “wacky fights” go, this one seems the most suited to capping off as silly a farce as this one.
 
Whaddya' mean Gatorade don't mix w' rum, ya scurvy cockroach!?

Besides Jones, the film features a bevy of faces familiar to anyone who’s seen more than a few of Disney’s ‘60s fare. Richard Deacon, most famous for his role as Mel Cooley on The Dick Van Dyke Show - as well as nearly 200 other roles in film and television (Disney’s That Darn Cat and The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band among them) - plays Godolphin College’s defeated Dean Wheaton, who suddenly springs to life upon the track team’s scallywag-assisted victory. Elsa Lanchester, whom we’ve seen as failed nannies in both Mary Poppins and Rascal, plays Inn-matriarch and Blackbeard fangirl Ms. Stowecroft, who continually corners Walker with enthusiastic re-tellings of the pirate’s exploits. Her delight upon finally meeting the knave at the film’s end (he becomes visible to all after helping save the Inn - SPOILERS!) allows him to revel in some post-life adulation. Suzanne Pleshette, of the previous year’s Adventures of Bullwhip Griffin, gets some of the films best scenes late in the film: Professor Baker’s stubborn insistence that her terrible method of betting on roulette (by placing small denominations across all the numbers) while Walker and Blackbeard try to beat the house is a hoot.
 
Go ahead - call me a brazen wench one more time...

In the end, there’s not much to say about this film - and I don’t mean that as an insult. Director Robert Stevenson (who helmed many of Disney’s more well-known comedies, including Darby O’Gill and the Little People, Mary Poppins and The Love Bug) keeps the pace moving along, and wisely plays to his cast’s strengths. I can see why many fans regard this as a favorite from repeated TV showings in the 1970s and '80s - while most of Disney’s comedies are entirely watchable, only a select few elicit as many genuine belly-laughs as this one. Ustinov’s drunken sea-dog performance is a real treat, prompting one to wish they had a half-drank bottle of rum and a pirate hat with them to join in the fun.
 
By the powers! Who put a portrait of Kristen Stewert in me cabin?! Arr...

Anyway, enough comedy! Tomorrow we jump ahead four decades, and set course for a trio of modern blockbusters that ye have all surely been a-waitin’ for. In the words of Blackbeard, “There be a time for action! Up the Jolly Roger!”
 

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