One More Time (1970)

The easygoing entertainers comprising the Rat Pack appeared in lighthearted movies throughout the ’60s, whether separately or together—with the most notable Rat Pack flick being the original Ocean’s Eleven (1960), which features the whole gang. Among the lesser examples of Rat Pack cinema is a pair of frothy comedies costarring energetic showman Sammy Davis Jr. and suave British actor Peter Lawford. The first of these pictures, Salt and Pepper (1968), introduced fun-loving London nightclub operators Charles Salt (Sammy Davis Jr.) and Christopher Pepper (Lawford). Directed by future superstar Richard Donner, Salt and Pepper did well enough to warrant a sequel, One More Time, which probably should’ve been titled One Time Too Many. Whatever charm was present in the original film is absent from the sequel, which compensates for the absence of a real story by bludgeoning viewers with outlandish situations and unfunny jokes. Davis works hard to sell physical-comedy shtick and Lawford delivers urbane charm, but the whole enterprise is so drab, pointless, and silly that star power isn’t reason enough to watch. Plus, because One More Time was directed by comedy legend Jerry Lewis as a particularly fallow point in his creative life, the movie’s gags feel tired even before Lewis milks the gags with irritating embellishments and repetition. For instance, Salt dresses up in a Little Lord Fauntleroy costume and fills his nostrils with snuff—then goes through what seems like an eternity of facial contortions before sneezing so powerfully he knocks over everyone in a crowded ballroom. This is Lewis’ comedy at its worst, simultaneously infantile and overwrought. As for the movie’s narrative, One More Time is nominally about Pepper investigating the murder of his twin brother, but it also concerns diamond smuggling, mistaken identity, and other random nonsense. (How random? At one point, Salt enters a hidden chamber in a castle, only to discover a mad-scientist laboratory occupied by Dracula and Dr. Frankenstein, played in cameos by Hammer Films stars Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing.) Lewis periodically stops the movie cold so Davis can perform musical numbers, and the director goes for cheap laughs with a fourth-wall-breaking gag at the end. In sum, One More Time isn’t worth your time—unless you’re a hardcore fan of the leading players.

One More Time: LAME

Which Way to the Front? (1970)

          Funnyman Jerry Lewis’ screaming-nincompoop shtick was beyond passé by the time he made the painfully unfunny World War II comedy Which Way to the Front? The film’s barrage of brainless sight gags and witless verbal jokes makes the lowbrow WWII-themed TV series Hogan’s Heroes seem inspired by comparison, because Lewis’ idea of a show-stopping joke is having Adolf Hitler idiotically rhapsodize about the Jewish snacks (e.g,, knishes, etc.) that Eva Braun prepares for him. Worse, Lewis plays the leading role in his typically oppressive manner, mugging nonsensically when his character goes into gibberish-spouting spasms and shouting nearly all of his lines in the second half of the picture, when his character masquerades as a German officer.

          However, it’s not as if producer-director Lewis would have done himself any favors by hiring a different star—every single aspect of Which Way to the Front? is as tiresome as Lewis’ performance. The silly story begins when billionaire Brendan Byers (Lewis) gets drafted for Army service—never mind that Lewis was about 43 when he made the picture—only to get classified 4F. Determined to help the war effort, Byers uses his fortune to build a private army comprising a handful of fellow 4F losers. Decked out in anachronistic uniforms that look more late-’60s than mid-’40s (oh, the turtlenecks!), Byers’ militia crosses the Atlantic on his private yacht, breaks into the stronghold of a Nazi officer who resembles Byers, and lures Hitler into an ambush. There isn’t a single worthwhile comedy idea here, and Lewis seems to know it; he often ends scenes by freeze-framing, jacking up big-band music on the soundtrack, and cutting to a bright swirl, Batman-style, as a means of hiding inanity behind momentum. So, need we even discuss the sequence of Byers learning German by listening to the album Music to Mein Kampf By? Or the scene at the end in which Byers masquerades as a Japanese officer by putting on Coke-bottle glasses and gigantic buck teeth?

          Inexplicably, Lewis stuck with the WWII theme for his next picture, the notorious unreleased concentration-camp film The Day the Clown Cried. After that production derailed, Lewis was sidelined for several years with health problems, and didn’t return to directing features until the 1981 misfire Hardly Working. Given the quality of Which Way to the Front?, he probably should have quit while he was behind. (Available at WarnerArchive.com)

Which Way to the Front?: LAME