The Specialist (1975)

Featuring the sort of dippy plot one might expect to encounter in a bad TV crime show, The Specialist concerns a woman who hires herself out as a seductress for clients with legal problems. Specifically, she agrees to sit on a jury and beguile the married defense counsel, because his enemy hopes a scandal will lead to the man’s disbarment. The inherent logic problem, of course, is that courts take pains to prevent jurors from interacting with lawyers, so by the time the seductress has her first conversation with the lawyer—addressing him from the jury box while he’s trying the case—the stupidity level of the film is already off the charts. The Specialist also suffers from sleepy pacing, so even though it’s only about 90 minutes, it feels much longer. That said, The Specialist has some compensatory values. Leading lady Ahna Capri has a knockout figure, so her brief nude scenes are impressive. The same cannot be said of her performance, because she conveys too much sweetness for her role as a cynical manipulator. In terms of this flick’s campy pleasures, one need merely invoke the name Adam West. The former Caped Crusader plays the lawyer whom Capri’s character is tasked with seducing. West flounders his way through a murky performance, sometimes trying for babe-in-the-woods innocence and sometimes trying for studly swagger. His work is enjoyably terrible. Worth mentioning is the movie’s sleazy theme song, a lounge-lizard R&B number crooned by the inimitable Lou Rawls. Listening to the song, which is played at full length twice during the film, is almost as cringe-inducing as watching West grope Capri’s enormous breasts.

The Specialist: LAME

The Marriage of a Young Stockbroker (1971)

          “That’s the main drawback of this particular hobby,” notes Bill Alren. “The feeling of shame.” Alren’s hobby is spying on women in various states of undress, whether that manifests at peeking up a coworker’s skirt while she bends over or using binoculars to ogle bikini-clad ladies on a beach near his house in Los Angeles. As you might imagine, Bill’s hobby is a source of friction in his marriage to the beautiful but anguished Lisa (Joanna Shimkus). Even though Bill makes a good living as a stockbroker and provides her with a comfortable home, she’s frustrated by the mindless rhythms of a childless housewife’s lifestyle, so the discovery of Bill’s proclivity for peeping is the final straw. Since she leaves Bill within the first half-hour of The Marriage of a Young Stockbroker, the bulk of the movie concerns Bill’s attempts to gain control over his lascivious impulses and to woo Lisa back into his life. Created by two of the key players behind The Graduate (1967), novelist Charles Webb and producer Lawrence Turman, this picture lacks the sociological heft of its predecessor, but it’s a respectable hybrid of comedy and drama with a few pithy observations about modern relationships.

          Among the film’s strongest elements are Richard Benjamin’s leading performance and the intelligent (if occasionally glib) screenplay by Lorenzo Semple Jr. Benjamin and Semple operate on the same level, articulating melancholy from the safety of a sarcastic remove, but because the central character is in some ways experiencing his own life from an outside-in perspective—he’s aware of the damage he inflicts but can’t or won’t stop himself—the arm’s-length style works. Turman, making his directorial debut, generates unhurried pacing that allows the gently plaintive textures of Fred Karlin’s score to add emotional dimensions. Yet Turman misfires a few times, especially during the climax, so there’s a reason a decade elapsed before he helmed another film: His work is adequate but not special. The same could be said of the film overall. It’s a little bit amusing, a little bit insightful, and a little bit sexy, but one strains to define any area in which the content or execution is superlative. Still, there’s a lot to enjoy here, and the cast is colorful: Elizabeth Ashley plays Lisa’s sister, Adam West plays the husband of Ashley’s character, and B-movie queen Tiffany Bolling plays a mysterious seductress.

The Marriage of a Young Stockbroker: FUNKY

Poor Devil (1973)

          One of the cinematic rabbit holes I find most alluring is the one containing lost feature-length TV pilots from the ’70s. Sure, it’s fun to revisit the initial episodes of series that later became cult favorites or even iconic boob-tube mainstays, but it’s even more revealing to investigate concepts that almost became series. For instance, it’s astonishing the pilot episode of Poor Devil was actually filmed and exhibited. It’s a broad-as-a-barn comedy about a low-ranking demon who’s desperate to escape his mundane job in Hell, which involves stoking the fires of the underworld by literally shoveling coal into a furnace. The price of getting a promotion? Persuading a mortal to sell his soul. Yep. Had Poor Devil gone to series, every week, the show’s “hero” would presumably have lured some dumb putz into eternal damnation, and/or attempt to do so and suffer a crisis of conscience. Oh, and the project’s star was Sammy Davis Jr.

          In the pilot movie, which has a few moments of pith but never overcomes the innately untenable nature of the premise, the would-be “client” is Burnett (Jack Klugman), a department-store accountant. His wife wants nice things that he can’t afford; his smarmy supervisor, Dennis (Adam West), has the store’s top accounting job simply because he’s better at kissing ass; and Burnett has sunken so low as to attempt robbing the store one night. Meanwhile, ne’er-do-well demon Sammy (Davis) has spent centuries in torment after screwing up previous assignments, so he’s eager to impress Lucifer (Christopher Lee) by getting someone to sign a contract. Sammy talks his way into becoming Burnett’s handler, with the understanding that if he fails, his punishment will be hundreds more years of shoveling. The bulk of the pilot depicts Sammy’s attempts to fulfill Burnett’s every wish, per the terms of the contract, even though Burnett knows he can wrangle out of the deal if Sammy botches anything. Proving how the series premise was never going to work, Sammy deliberately screws up once he realizes that Burnett is too nice a guy for Hell.

          Nonetheless, Poor Devil has a colorful cast, and Davis does his best to sell the wackadoodle idea. He’s charming if perhaps a bit overzealous. Lee and West are fine if uncharacteristically restrained, and Klugman fares best of all, bouncing between comic anguish and exasperated one-liners. For instance, when Sammy magically appears in Burnett’s bedroom, Sammy helpfully explains, “I’m from down below.” Burnett’s response: “You’re from the Feldmans’ apartment?” Or, as Burnett says later, “I don’t wanna go to Hell—I haven’t even been to Europe yet!” You get the idea. By the by, this movie’s vision of the underworld has a very Austin Powers vibe, with lots of medallions and turtlenecks—apparently the road to Hell is paved with polyester.

Poor Devil: FUNKY

Off-Topic: Retro TV Action-Adventure-Thon

          And now a brief message from the larger world of ’70s nostalgia—last weekend (Sept. 21–22), the fine folks at Warner Archive Collection, the DVD-on-demand imprint that’s made hundreds of obscure movies and TV shows available in recent years, held a fun event at the Paley Center for Media in Beverly Hills. The Retro TV Action-Adventure-Thon featured screenings of rare TV episodes, plus appearances by actors from cult-fave shows. Of special note for readers of this space were sessions with Patrick Duffy and Belinda J. Montgomery (pictured above in a photo by yours truly), who chatted about their short-lived series Man from Atlantis (1977–1978), and Michael Gray, who played Captain Marvel’s youthful alter ego in the Saturday-morning superhero show Shazam! (1974–1977). Others on hand were Ron Ely, of the 1966–1968 series Tarzan, and Clint Walker, of the 1955–1963 Western Cheyenne.

          Man from Atlantis kicked off the weekend. Duffy and Montgomery, both caustically funny, explained they were disappointed by the evolution of the franchise into a campy superhero show once it became a weekly series. (As noted here, the original pilot film is fairly serious in tone, with a plaintive quality absent from the weekly episodes.) While an episode titled “Melt Down” was screening, Duffy and Montgomery laughed broadly and even heckled the screen. After the episode finished, Duffy got onto his hands and knees and made for the door, as if he wanted to crawl away in embarrassment.

          Happily, he stuck and around and chatted with Montgomery and moderator William Keck for about 45 minutes, sharing droll stories about cheap producers, reckless safety risks, and the drudgery of filming a series that seemed fated for cancellation from its first weekly installment. (Only 13 episodes of Man from Atlantis were made.) It was fun to watch Duffy and Montgomery remind each other of colorful memories, since they hadn’t seen each other in 34 years; for instance, Duffy recalled that he often looked to Montgomery for approval after takes because she had years of experience when they made Man from Atlantis, whereas he was a newbie. Plus, what ’70s kid weaned on action shows could resist hearing Duffy discuss the beloved Man from Atlantis swimming style? “It was the most miserable way to swim you could possibly imagine,” Duffy said, adding that because of the contacts he wore to simulate his water-breathing character’s otherworldliness, he couldn’t see anything while performing underwater.

          The following evening, after Ely, Gray, and Walker made their appearances, the Retro TV Action-Adventure-Thon concluded with a screening of the notorious 1979 TV special Legends of the Super Heroes: The Challenge. One of two live-action programs Hanna-Barbera produced featuring DC Comics characters, The Challenge is epic in its awfulness. Adam West and Burt Ward reprise their ’60s Batman and Robin roles while delivering terrible one-liners in a cheap-looking one-hour program (shot on video) that’s half superhero adventure and half sitcom. (The Caped Crusader and the Boy Wonder are joined by the Flash, Green Lantern, and others while battling baddies including the Riddler, played, once again, by Batman fave Frank Gorshin.) Watching The Challenge is a challenge, but the thing is an amazing time capsule from a moment when the variety format ruled the airwaves. For brave souls, Warner Archive has released Legends of the Super Heroes on DVD, pairing The Challenge with The Roast, a spectacularly unfunny costumed-adventurer insult-fest. Ed McMahan hosts, believe it or not.

          In any event, the Retro TV Action-Adventure-Thon was a hoot, and it’s totally groovy that Warner Archive has preserved such esoteric programming for the curious and the nostalgic. DVDs available at WarnerArchive.com include two Man from Atlantis sets (one with TV movies and the other with weekly episodes); a complete-series set of Shazam!; the Legends of the Super Heroes twofer; and sets of other shows featured at the event, from Cheyenne and Tarzan to The Herculoids and Superboy. Keep on keepin’ on, Warner Archive!