The Boatniks (1970)

          Something of an aberration among ’70s live-action offerings from Walt Disney Productions, The Boatniks is a straightforward comedy with a romantic subplot. It doesn’t feature animals or children, and it doesn’t showcase special effects (excepting process shots of submarines) or supernatural elements. The Boatniks doesn’t even star one of Disney’s regular leading men, though it’s easy to picture Dean Jones in the starring role. The Boatniks could have been made by any studio, since it holds no special appeal for children beyond slapstick gags. After all, how interested is the average juvenile viewer in a love story, the exploits of jewel thieves, and the problems of a young Coast Guard officer trying not to botch his first command assignment?

          Onetime song-and-dance man Robert Morse, appearing in his last film role before a 17-year hiatus from the big screen, plays Ensign Tom Garland, a young junior officer assigned to supervise a patrol boat in the waters surrounding Los Angeles. A well-meaning klutz, Tom screws up his first few patrols, doing things like running a boat aground and spilling a can of paint on Kate (Stefanie Powers), the attractive proprietor of a sailing school. Tom’s misadventures cause friction with his exasperated supervisor, Commander Taylor (Don Ameche). Meanwhile, a group of jewel thieves led by fast-talking Harry Simmons (Phil Silvers) attempts aquatic getaway, which is impeded by the thieves’ lack of nautical knowhow. Clues eventually hip Tom to the presence of wanted criminals, so he strives to capture them and thereby refurbish his reputation. Naturally, he and Kate transition from frenemies to significant others amid the madcap antics.

          Notwithstanding its lack of standard-issue Disney plot elements, The Boatniks contains stylistic hallmarks of the studio’s live-action fare, notably dense plotting and mile-a-minute pacing. Some of what happens onscreen is amusing and charming, even though the overall tone of the piece is squaresville. (One exception: the randy running gag about a drunken playboy who keeps his boat stocked with bikini-clad babes.) Morse is personable in the leading role, though he’s outgunned by comedy pros Ameche and Silver, as well as supporting players Joe E. Brown, Wally Cox, and Norman Fell. Deserving special mention are writers Arthur Julian and Martin Roth, whose story is more of a juggling act than a proper narrative. Their deftness at keeping so many subplots running in tandem is impressive, even if The Boatniks never achieves the desired level of hilarity.

The Boatniks: FUNKY

The Stone Killer (1973)

          Actor Charles Bronson and director Michael Winner cranked out so many movies together in the ’70s that it’s inevitable some of their projects were less satisfying than others. In between the high points of The Mechanic (1972) and Death Wish (1974), for instance, the duo collaborated in this convoluted crime thriller, which can’t decide if it’s about a hard-driving cop or a mastermind criminal. The setting awkwardly shuttles back and forth between New York and Los Angeles, and the movie includes about five different scenes that feel like endings. As a result, even though Winner was among the best directors of gritty action in the ’70s (ensuring that The Stone Killer has a handful of exciting scenes), the flick is a washout in terms of narrative.

          The gist of the piece is that after NYPD detective Lou Torrey (Bronson) gets run out of Manhattan for using excessive force, he lands a job with the LAPD and almost immediately discovers a scheme by mobster Al Vescari (Martin Balsam) to wipe out enemies as revenge for a decades-old gangland massacre. All of this feels very unfocused, not least because of the way Torrey somehow instantaneously becomes the most trusted plainclothes cop in the City of Angels; furthermore, most of the screen time is devoted to Torrey’s investigation of intermediaries, which has the effect of diluting Vescari’s prominence as the main villain. In fact, probably a good third of the picture involves the activities of low-level bagmen Jumper (Jack Colvin) and Langley (Paul Koslo), so it periodically seems as if Winner forgot which movie he was making. Exacerbating all of this is the fact that Bronson’s casting as a smooth-talking policeman somewhat marginalizes his strong suit of tight-lipped physical action.

          Nearly the only thing that keeps The Stone Killer watchable is the presence of vibrant supporting actors. In addition to Colvin and Koslo, who portray weasels effectively, the grab-bag cast includes Norman Fell, Stuart Margolin, and Ralph Waite. (This is a guy movie from top to bottom, so women don’t figure prominently in the mix.) Winner generates good atmosphere in both Los Angeles and New York, and the movie’s big shootout—which takes place inside the elevator shafts, parking garage, and stairwell of an office building—has a few thrills. Yet by the umpteenth time Winner cuts to a scene of Bronson and his colleagues discussing the plot for the purposes of helping the audience understand what the hell’s going on, it becomes painfully clear that Winner (who also produced) crammed way too much plot into the mix. As a final note, The Stone Killer loses points for a poster that’s a blatant rip-off of the famous one-sheet for The French Connection (1971).

The Stone Killer: FUNKY