Beach Blanket Bingo

"Beach Blanket Bingo" is full of quirky touches (like Annette's face turning green while doing a free-fall out of an airplane or a kidnapped Linda Evans about to be buzz-sawed in half a la "The Perils of Pauline"). It's a colorful entry in the "Beach Party" serial, though oddly missing an exciting musical group (The Hondells in favor of Stevie Wonder or Dick Dale). Also missing is dancing-wonder Candy Johnson, and Annette sings two duets with Frankie Avalon but no solo number (it was cut). The comedy routine by Don Rickles is agonizing and falls flat, but Paul Lynde has some funny one-liners. This series was starting to show its age by now, and the teens are looking a bit long in the tooth (John Ashley no longer plays Frankie's friend, here he's a sky-diving instructor). The mermaid subplot featuring a ravishingly sweet Marta Kristen wowing Jody McCrea is the best part of the picture (it tops anything in "Splash"), but there's enough music and slapstick to keep the rest bubbling along. **1/2 from ****

All of the seven, count 'em, seven beach movies are really silly and poorly acted. However, they are great fun to watch. This is the best of the lot, featuring a pre-"Big Valley" and "Dynasty" Linda Evans as pop princess Sugar Cane. Paul Lynde is a scream here, with his trademark slow burn. Watch him as he insults Eric Von Zipper, who's too stupid to realize it. Don Rickles is also good during a scene where he takes the mike and rips into the kids. There is so much zaniness going on here, much more than the movies that came before or after it in this series.

I must agree with others who say this is not only the ultimate beach flick but also the essential 1960s teen-scene movie.

Even though the plot is nitwit (intentionally, after all), the cast is wonderfully silly. And what a cast it is: Frankie and Annette establish that this is a genuine teen-beach romp, Harvey Lembeck is a riot as the Marlon Brando wannabe who worships Marlo Branden, Don Rickles and Paul Lynde provide two different forms of wicked insult humor, Buster Keaton gives us his unique dead-pan slapstick, and we even have a pretty little wet mermaid for Bonehead (definitely Freudian).

Musical numbers, faked surfing and parachuting shots, sand, salty air -- it's a true treasure of a seemingly "innocent" time gone by even though the film was made after America lost its innocence and was getting wrapped up in what would become the Viet Nam disaster. But forget all that. Take a trip into the never-never land of the beach and get yourself a good tan, moondoggie!

The era of cinema from 1958-66 saw a lot of what film critics called fluff movies. There was a long line of films from studios that featured teen idols and popular singers. While several became classics like The Beatle's A Hard Day's Night, many became forgotten as outdated light comedy with the occasional hidden adult humor. The entire era for T.V. and film were filled with this kind of stuff that may be funny for children but bore the heck out of adults.

Frankie and Annette made quite a few of these Beach Party movies during the beach fad. Pretty much every one of them is the same story recycled with a few changes. This is just Frankie and Annette and friends having a good time while a B-level pop star uses the kids as a chance to gain publicity to advance her career while another one meets up with mythology come to life. Skydiving is also on the menu.

The movie isn't bad and pretty much everyone comes out as likable: Frankie, Didi, Bonehead, and Havey Lembeck's painful go as Erich Von Zipper; an English-mangling German biker. Paul Lynde plays himself practically and actually is pretty good. Buster Keaton, however, is a tragedy. The greatest silent film star from the U.S. is reduced to playing a dirty old man. Don Rickles was cracking the same tired material in 1965 that he uses today. Still, the women look great, the guys actually look like they belong, and the songs are decent. If you've seen one Beach Party movie you've seen them all, but if you haven't seen one before, might as well be this one.

No one expects A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) from Frankie and Annette. So anyone catching this celebration of carefree hedonism should know what they're getting from the git-go. All in all, the movie's a time capsule of those pre-Vietnam years when jobs were plentiful, prosperity was on the rise, and the only thing white middle-class teens worried about was a date to the prom. The movie perfectly captures the silly innocence of those teen years. And what better place to celebrate than the land of eternal sunshine and surf: Malibu, California.

But watch out for Timothy Carey's grotesque South Dakota Slim. In retrospect, he's like a forewarning of the Vietnam-Watergate calamities to come— a menacing figure crashing the beach party's beautiful bodies. It was an inspired piece of casting and happenstance. Now, I'm not about to mock the movie's silliness since my own preference runs toward The Three Stooges. At the same time, it looks to this drop-in like the film's probably as good as any of the Beach Party bashes of that long ago sunny era. For many, the movie's got to be a trip down carefree nostalgia lane.