1966


What’s Up, Tiger Lily?

What’s Up, Tiger Lily? is the first film directed by Woody Allen. It is a film like no other in his storied and amusing career. Allen took a Japanese film, Kokusai himitsu keisatsu: Kagi no kagi, and dubbed over it with completely original dialogue that he had written. The results are often hilarious, often strange, and mostly goofy. Allen’s new dialogue had nothing to do with the context of the original film, which looks goofy enough on its own. Allen added new scenes and tinkered with the order of the original scenes, changing the tone of the film from a James Bond-type thriller to a comedy about egg salad.

What’s Up, Tiger Lily? is often cited as being one of the primary influences for subsequent films that would come out with the same idea. Television shows like Mystery Science Theatre 3000 owe quite a bit to Allen’s techniques in What’s Up, Tiger Lily?, but Allen’s film was not the first to play with the idea of overdubbing dialogue. Fractured Flickers, a 1963 television show, dubbed comedic dialogue on top of silent films as a part of their half-hour syndicated series.

Allen used Louise Lasser, his wife at the time, as one of the voice performers. Lasser, along with Allen’s writing partner Mickey Rose, supplied the majority of the dialogue in the film. Allen himself also provided some vocals, as did Frank Buxton and Len Maxwell. The band The Lovin’ Spoonful provided the soundtrack for the film. They also appear in the film in musical interlude segments, which are really more perplexing than entertaining. These segments were spliced in during post-production against Woody Allen’s wishes, which was a decision that led to Allen’s insistence that he would have full creative control over all future projects. Allen was right on this one: The Lovin’ Spoonful’s interludes interrupt the flow of the film considerably.

The plot of What’s Up, Tiger Lily? is basically one big excuse to fool around. Allen’s central plot involves the misadventures of secret agent Phil Moskowitz. Phil was hired by the Grand Exalted High Majah of Raspur, a non-existent but real-sounding country, to track down a secret egg salad recipe that could lead to the undoing of the world. Phil’s journey takes him into the company of backstabbing spies, villains with snakes, and a bevy of babes that are ready to take their clothes off on a whim. The lampooning of the spy genre is in full force, as Allen uses farcical comedy, stereotypes, and several bad puns to move things alone to a conclusion that is otherwise not related to the plot but very convincing. To sum up: China Lee.

What’s Up, Tiger Lily? is framed by Allen himself being “interviewed” and asked to explain the film. He refers to the idea that “death is his bread and danger is his butter…or is that the other way around” and gets to mug for the camera quite a bit while restlessly explaining his film. When asked for an update because of the confusion of the interviewer (and presumably the audience), Allen simply says “no.” This film is simply an exercise in the art of making quips. It’s nothing more than that. One can’t judge the film on the merits of its direction, acting, or screenplay. What’s Up, Tiger Lily? is a simple running of gag after gag until the final frames play out.

The dubbing, of course, makes the characters look ridiculous, which is the point. There are a few gags that are not dubbed, such as Allen reversing the flow of the film or of shadowy hands chasing a hair across the frame of the screen, only to stop and make hand puppets and make out in the “projection room.” What’s Up, Tiger Lily? is not particularly a film in and of itself insomuch as it is a presentation of a film by a very talented and gifted filmmaker. Allen’s confidence is already on display here, as is his smugness. The insecurity and nervousness that we all know so well is nowhere to be found in this early, confident production that demonstrates just how silly Woody Allen can be and just how uneven the end results can be.

Sadly, What’s Up, Tiger Lily? doesn’t particularly sustain itself that well. By the time the 80-minute runtime is over, I was glad the film was done. There was some good laughs and some comical bits, but this exercise in style was simply too low on substance and too short of the mark to make much of an impact. It’s worth seeing for a funny attempt at redubbing an already silly-looking film, but overall it doesn’t shed much light on Allen’s career nor does it prove to be overly entertaining.

5/10

El Dorado

Howard Hawks directed El Dorado, the 1966 western released by Paramount Pictures. The film was written by Leigh Brackett and based on the novel “The Stars in Their Courses” by Harry Brown. Hawks has said that El Dorado fits in the middle of a trilogy about variances of the theme of a sheriff trying to defend his office against outlaw elements in his town. Rio Bravo, which is the film for which Hawks is probably best known, was the first film in the series and Rio Lobo was the last to close it out. All three films starred John Wayne. El Dorado is the film in the trilogy to represent a variation on the theme, however, as Robert Mitchum plays the sheriff who becomes a drunk and needs to rely on the kindness of others to defend his town.

The legendary John Wayne stars in El Dorado as Cole Thornton, one of the fastest draws in the West and a legendary gun-for-hire. He opens the film with his old friend, Sheriff J.P. Harrah (Robert Mitchum), as Thornton reveals he has turned down a job which would have required him to fight Harrah. As Thornton heads back to confront the man who hired him for the job, the corrupt Bart Jason (Ed Asner), he encounters a family in some trouble and accidentally shoots one of their boys. After a chain of events and the passing of a few months, Thornton finds out that his friend, Harrah, is on the bottle after a falling out with a woman. To add to the complications, a top gunfighter is on his way into town to help Bart Jason fight the sheriff. Knowing Harrah is in no condition to fight alone, Thornton rushes to his side with the help of Mississippi (James Caan), a knife-wielding friend with a huge shotgun, and sets things straight.

Originally, Wayne wanted to play the part that eventually went to Mitchum. After starring in Rio Bravo, Wayne read the script for El Dorado and wanted to play the drunk. He was persuaded that it would be bad news for his career, however, and Mitchum was hired instead. Apparently Mitchum asked about the story of the film and was told by Hawks that it had good characters, so Mitchum knew very little about the film before signing on. As it were, Mitchum’s performance steals the show here and takes the spotlight away from Wayne. He proves his versatility in his mood swings and in his efforts to play a man trying to regain his dignity. That is by far the most interesting component of what is otherwise a very average and forgettable Western film.

El Dorado is a funny film, both intentionally and unintentionally. There are moments in which the editing and cutting is so bad that it’s obvious that scenes were extremely rigged. One scene in which James Caan’s Mississippi leaps into the road under horses is suddenly lighted with drastic differences and a dummy is obviously placed under the horses, making for some laughs and rewinding to see it all again in slow-motion. Also, Mitchum’s Harrah needed to use a crutch after being wounded. Mitchum’s continuity was so bad that he kept switching arms throughout the shooting of the film. It became so obvious that Wayne’s character actually mentions it in the film and Hawks left it in because he was amused.

There are many interesting tidbits of trivia behind the scenes that make the film enjoyable, too. The hilarity of having John Wayne dislike Ed Asner to such a large degree, for instance, makes their scenes together much more compelling after the fact. Apparently on the set, Wayne would refer to Asner as “that New York actor.” Asner was a liberal and this apparently bothered Wayne, who was obviously not a liberal actor. Flashes of attitude with Wayne were not altogether uncommon on the set of El Dorado. According to James Caan, he and Wayne mixed it up during an altercation in a game of chess and Robert Mitchum had to intervene. The legend of John Wayne of movie sets is always interesting, isn’t it?

It’s also fun to watch a film like El Dorado for goofs and mistakes. Obviously the inserted dummy under the horses is one. A lot of the shots in the film appear to be a patchwork of other shots, such as the shots in which Mitchum’s Harrah is striding down the streets in the opening shot. Watch the shadows and it becomes apparent that the shots were done at various times of day, making for a quite funny look. There are moments in which Wayne’s character braces his fall with his paralyzed arm or when hats change positions or when shadows suddenly appear and disappear in obvious fashion. Part of the fun in watching films like this one is in spotting the details that tilt the hand of the filmmakers.

El Dorado is most certainly not the best in terms of crafted storytelling, bold characters, or structured solid filmmaking. It is, however, a reasonably fun Western that passes the time. There’s nothing particularly memorable about it, John Wayne’s performance, or the action. Mitchum is the highlight here and it is fun to see a young James Caan playing with the big boys of the genre in Hawks and Wayne. If one were to do a patchwork of Rio Bravo and this film, they’d look alike and together would form a great Western. As a standalone picture, however, El Dorado leaves a lot to be desired and likely stands up better in the context of the full trilogy from Howard Hawks.

5/10