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 Chicken Chronicles (1977)

          The teen-sex romp The Chicken Chronicles is a pleasant surprise for many reasons. First, it’s almost entirely bereft of sleaze—don’t look for nude scenes here—which means that director Frank Simon and his collaborators exhibited great restraint given the exploitive norm of the teen-sex genre. Second, the movie stars the much-maligned Steve Guttenberg, appearing in his first significant movie role, and he gives a charming performance. Third, the script by Paul Diamond, who adapted his novel of the same name, treats female characters with intelligence and respect, which is even more of a rarity in the teen-sex genre than restraint. Yes, The Chicken Chronicles has the usual tropes of cheap pranks played against school officials, nostalgia for a lost era, a wild party, and a young man questing for carnal bliss. Yet in this context, the tropes are enjoyable and organic instead of contrived and trite.
           To be clear, The Chicken Chronicles pales next to, say, American Graffiti (1973). Accepted on its own humble terms, however, The Chicken Chronicles is endearing and fun.

          Set in Beverly Hills circa 1969, the story revolves around senior David Kessler (Guttenberg), a wealthy jock with girl trouble and a rebellious attitude. The rebelliousness manifests as friction with uptight vice principal Mr. Nastase (Ed Lauter), and the girl trouble stems from all the obstacles that David’s beautiful girlfriend, Margaret (Lisa Reeves), puts in the way of consummating their relationship. As the movie progresses, David becomes more and more frustrated because of Margaret, so he acts out in ways that threaten his graduation—no small problem, with the shadow of the Vietnam draft looming over him. Other elements of David’s life include the misadventures of his dorky younger brother, an unexpected relationship with a girl who is wrongly perceived as the school slut, and David’s shenanigans at a fast-food joint owned by the cheerfully vulgar Max Ober (Phil Silvers).

          While none of this material cuts very deep, the specifics of David’s life feel authentic and complete—everything from the upper-crust mom who wires her house with intercoms to the Hawaiian buddy who weeps after flushing his pot stash during a moment of panic. Better still, the way the major female characters develop over the course of the story makes David’s growth believable. (The plot even has some genuinely serious elements, though sexual yearning and tomfoolery occupy center stage.) More than anything, The Chicken Chronicles reminds viewers that movies about adolescence need not be adolescent.

The Chicken Chronicles: GROOVY

Now You See Him, Now You Don’t (1972) & The Strongest Man in the World (1975)

          These follow-ups to the 1969 Disney hit The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes continue the adventures of Dexter Riley (Kurt Russell), a science major at fictional Medfield College who keeps stumbling upon formulas that give him amazing abilities. Unlike most live-action Disney offerings, the Medfield movies lack cutesy kids and syrupy sentimentality; instead, they’re brisk slapstick diversions featuring enthusiastic performances by teenagers and slickly professional turns by veteran comedy pros. Since all three pictures in the series recycle the same reliable storyline—Medfield is in financial trouble, and only Dexter and his pals can save the day—they don’t demand much of viewers, but they’re entertaining nonetheless. In The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes, an accident gives Dexter a computer brain that gets exploited by local crime boss A.J. Arno (Cesar Romero), who uses Dexter’s skills to win big at the track. By far the best of the three pictures (admittedly, not the highest hurdle to vault), Computer sets up the world of the series, especially the comic relief of Medfield’s amusingly inept leader, Dean Higgins (Joe Flynn).

          In the second picture, Now You See Him, Now You Don’t, Dexter and his buddy Schuyler (Michael McGreevey) stumble upon a formula for invisibility. When bad old A.J. Arno (Romero again) buys up the lease on Medfield, the boys make themselves invisible and snoop on him, only to discover he plans to foreclose on the school and turn it into a casino. Investigative high jinks ensue, with a climax involving Arno and his hoodlum accomplice Cookie (Richard Bakalyan) becoming invisible and evading police in an invisible car. It’s all very cartoonish, of course, but the sight gags mostly work and the tone is consistently light and amiable. Now You See Him features a lot more Dean Higgins (still played by Flynn) than the first picture, and he delivers enjoyable buffoonery during two long sequences of playing golf, first spectacularly with help from an invisible Dexter and then abysmally without.

          Predictably, the series runs out of gas in the third picture, The Strongest Man in the World, the sci-fi hook of which is, as the title bluntly states, Dexter becoming super-strong. Russell, who is exuberant and likeable in all three pictures, is sidelined in Strongest Man, with Schuyler (still McGreevey) getting substantially more screen time. That’s not a good thing, nor is the too-prominent presence of old-school comics like Eve Arden and Phil Silvers. With grownups taking center stage, including returning players Flynn and Romero, there’s way too much bug-eyed overacting, and not enough of those gosh-darn crazy kids. Strongest Man is the first Medfield picture to feel padded, and it’s just as well Disney gave up on the series after such a lackluster third entry. Trivia buffs may enjoy noting that a young Ed Begley Jr. shows up briefly in The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes as a student at rival State University, then returns in Now You See Him, Now You Don’t as a star pupil at Medfield; this says a lot about the continuity, or lack thereof, between the pictures.

Now You See Him, Now You Don’t: FUNKY

The Strongest Man in the World: LAME