Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo

First introduced in 1968’s classic The Love Bug, Herbie - the loveable little living car - had returned to theaters in a belated follow-up, 1974’s madcap Herbie Rides Again. While the film was a moderate success, it felt far-removed from the original: it lacked any car races, featured none of the original (human) characters, and was bereft of heart. Disney, obviously sensing the need for a course-correction, brought Herbie back three years later - along with a familiar friend and a story centered once again around a fast-paced auto race. But would audiences still want to follow the high-octane exploits of Herbie, or would 1977’s Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo be too little, too late?


The champagne's not Korbel!

Herbie’s latest adventure brings him and his friend Jim Douglas (a returning Dean Jones) and mechanic Wheeley Applegate (Don Knotts) to France, to participate in a cross-country race. They face stiff competition from arrogant German racers Bruno von Stickle (Eric Braeden) and Claude Gilbert (Mike Kulcsar,) who drive a souped-up Porsche 917 and a De Tomaso Pantera, respectively. Also competing (and going out of her way to prove herself) is firebrand American racer Diane Darcy (Julie Sommars,) who operates a 1976 Lancia Scorpion. While Jim and Diane share a prickly, competitive relationship (gee, I wonder if they’ll end up together?), Herbie falls head-over-tires in love with Diane’s Lancia (whom she dubs Giselle at the end of the film.) Meanwhile, a pair of inept British thieves (Roy Kinnear and Bernard Fox) manage to steal a highly valuable diamond called the Étoile de Joie, and end up hiding said gem inside Herbie’s gas tank. Under the watchful eye of their mysterious boss (who, in a “surprise twist” early in the film, turns out to be Inspector Bouchet of the Parisian police, played by Jacques Marin,) they pursue Herbie along the racecourse in an attempt to recapture the purloined diamond. Inevitably, wackiness ensues.

Clearly, Disney wanted Herbie’s third big-screen outing to be seen as a return to the charming formula of the original film, and to tone down the freewheeling silliness of the previous entry. The biggest clue here is setting the story amidst the fictional Trans-France Race, placing Herbie firmly back into the role of “living race car,” rather than the “automotive guard dog” he was portrayed as previously. Also of note is, of course, the return of Dean Jones, playing his character from The Love Bug. While Jones had been continuously cast by Disney through the mid ‘70s (most recently appearing in the previous year’s The Shaggy D.A.,) it had been almost a decade since his "heyday” at the studio, when he’d starred in six films between 1965 and 1968. Returning to what would become his most fondly-remembered role, Jones seems more than happy to get back behind Herbie’s steering wheel - safe in the knowledge that by this point he was playing second-banana to the titular car.

That awkward moment when you realize only one of you is a "Disney Legend"...

No mention is made of the events or characters from the previous film, by the way; Herbie and Jim appear as if they’ve been together since the first film. It’s actually stated that the pair of them are trying for a comeback with this race, having been some “12 years” since they last raced. Retcon or not, attempting to reconcile the film’s contemporary setting with the original’s late ’60s ethos is now rather difficult - unless this film is set a few years in the future. I’m probably overthinking things again...

For the most part, this back-to-basics approach works in the film’s favor. Even though no one could say with any authority what exactly a “Herbie Movie” should look like when the sequel rolled around, having no racing scenes whatsoever (pointless clip-montage notwithstanding) made Herbie Rides Again feel far removed from the original. But seeing the little VW Bug zipping past sleeker-looking sportscars on the racecourse, accompanied by his sprightly theme music (originally composed by studio maestro George Bruns, replaced here by Frank De Vol) just feels right. The addition of Don Knotts to the cast, clearly meant to fill in for the missing Tennessee Steinmetz (played by Buddy Hackett in the original film,) is a welcome one. While never bringing the same level of bonkers warmth as Hackett (and lacking that character’s eastern philosophical bent,) Knotts adds his usual nervous energy to an otherwise straightforward “kooky buddy” role, hitting an easy rapport with Jones.

Herbie, quit checking out that guy's butt...

Unlike the first two films (whose San Francisco setting was established mainly through the use of evocative matte paintings,) Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo was mostly shot on location throughout France and Monaco. Perhaps wishing to impress from the start, the filmmakers “put the money upfront” in an extended credits sequence featuring striking aerial photography, with sweeping vistas of the French countryside (and eventually Paris itself) - all while little Herbie is seen to drive along the winding roads below.

I’m somewhat on the fence regarding the film’s love story, to be honest. I suppose I should say love stories, since both Herbie and Jim partake in on-screen romances - although I have no qualms with the human’s storyline, despite it’s predictability. Jim and Diane’s “been there, done that” love story plays out exactly as one imagines: “tough cookie” Diane inevitably softens into a starry-eyed romantic, while Jim … you know … doesn’t really change at all. This by-the-numbers arc comes off especially false, since Diane is portrayed as fiercely independent before her sudden conversion to “affection object.” This initial characterization is played rather too on-the-nose, unfortunately, as she’s presented as a brittle shrew who continually shrieks that “everyone” wants her to fail as a racer “just because (she’s) a woman” - even though no one, including the “bad guy” drivers, ever say or act as such.


Pfft! You zink Claude and I haff any interest in ze women?

The love story between Herbie and Giselle the Lancia, on the other hand, dances a fine line between tediously silly and oddly affecting. Unlike the other “living machines” that sprang to life in the previous installment, here it appears that Giselle “awakens” at Herbie’s gentle beckoning, her pop-up headlights slowly blinking open. One catches a whiff of the old mysticism at work here, as the key to consciousness is born from love, from an emotional connection forged through feelings. After this awakening, the two cars share a near-immediate affection for each other, following a goofy-but-sweet scene in which Herbie plops a bouquet of flowers onto the Lancia’s hood (while a dumbfounded French waiter looks on, natch.) At varying points in the film, the two cars become depressed and despondent at the thought of the other driving off without them, but are quick to spring back into action when their human friends are in trouble. This is keeping in character with the Herbie from The Love Bug, a gentle soul whose emotions run deep - especially in regards to  offering and accepting love. This is not, in other words, the high-strung psychopath of the previous film.

Hubba Hubba…

On the other hand, the series of montages following the pair of loving vehicles around Paris tend to drag on too long. These stretches of dialogue-free scenes aren’t nearly as clever as the filmmakers seem to think, and quickly become repetitive.

The chuckle brothers at work...

While there is much to like in this film, unfortunately not everything works. The plot involving the diamond heist (and it's "man on the inside" twist that plays it's hand far too early) feels unnecessarily tacked-on. Apparently the filmmakers felt that a movie containing both Don Knotts and a pair of living cars wouldn’t provide enough humor, and so Roy Kinnear (familiar from his role as Veruca Salt’s father in Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory) and Bernard Fox (Dr. Bombay from TV’s Bewitched) are tasked with providing an endless series of “bungling burglar” gags. Since these two are portrayed as clueless from the get-go, there’s never any menace or threat against our heroes. Even when the pair’s boss (Jacques Marin’s Inspector Bouchet) steps in to help retrieve the stolen gem, he too spends the rest of the film being outsmarted by a Volkswagen. Unfortunately, just about every sequence involving these three connards stupides causes the film’s pacing to grind to a stand-still; audiences are left waiting impatiently for Herbie to return and the racing to resume.

Inspector, may I interest you in a piece of Dentyne?

Additionally, one wonders if Bernard Fox was cast as a kind of stand-in for the first film’s similarly posh-accented David Tomlinson. Is this is the case, then - with no offense meant to Fox - it’s a pretty piss-poor substitution.

On the whole, Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo feels much more like a follow-up to the 1968 original than it’s first sequel, despite a number of issues. In a way, it’s a shame that it took Disney nine years to make this film. With all due respect to director Vincent McEveety and screenwriters Arthur Alsberg and Don Nelson, you have to wonder what the same movie would’ve looked like a few years earlier, in the hands of the original filmmakers. Imagine if Love Bug director Robert Stevenson (and the rest of his crew) had been given this racing-focused story to use as the basis for their sequel - perhaps aimed for a late 1971 or early ‘72 release. Further, suppose that not only Dean Jones, but Buddy Hackett and perhaps even David Tomlinson had agreed to reprise their roles, their characters' re-match shifted to Europe. How much more interesting would the race itself have been with a pre-established rivalry to increase the stakes? And what would Hackett’s goofy, spiritually-enlightened Tennessee Steinmetz make of a love story between little Herbie and a lovely living Lancia?

C'est l'amour...

Alas, we’ll never know how differently Herbie’s future may’ve turned out had this been the case. While unlikely, it’s possible that had Disney followed up the original film with something more closely resembling a “Love Bug Goes to Monte Carlo,” the franchise may have had a longer or more prestigious run than it did. Indeed, while Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo is, for all intents and purposes, a better movie than Herbie Rides Again, it made almost $10 million less. Perhaps this is evidence that Disney had waited a little too long to give audiences the Herbie movie they really wanted to see. Of course, it should be kept in mind that the film was released about a month after the all-encompassing pop-cultural nexus that was Star Wars hit theaters - so maybe the fact that anybody bothered to see it at all should be commended.

Nevertheless, by this point younger audiences at the time of The Love Bug’s release had long since grown up, and the rest of the viewing public seemed ready to move on. With a better film now under their belt, the filmmakers would have to make a fourth adventure for the little VW Bug something special if they were going to recapture the imaginations of their audience. For if the original Love Bug had been the map drawn out for a successful franchise, then Herbie Rides Again had been a wrong turn, and Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo the shortcut back. Unfortunately, Herbie was about to be driven straight off a cliff - as the filmmakers’ next move resulted in one of the biggest, most disastrous artistic misjudgments in Disney’s entire film catalog.

Do you smell something? Smells like putrid, rotten bananas to me…

Try to land on Harvey Korman!!