Disco Fever (1978)

How much do titles matter? Let’s use this low-budget music movie as a case study. Although the picture has disco elements, including the principal location of a nightclub and a subplot about the rise of a wannabe disco singing star, the flick is not actually about disco. Rather, it’s about a nightclub owner who exploits a former teen idol, using his notoriety to gain publicity. While there isn’t a single original idea in the picture, the acting is adequate and the general arc of the piece is more or less satisfying in an empty-calories sort of way. (Anyone who’s ever encountered a story about an artist being asked to sell out will be able to predict the entire storyline.) Disco Fever even has something akin to credibility, since the main character is played by Fabian Forte, a real-life former teen idol. So here’s the problem with the title. Anyone buying a ticket for something called Disco Fever would, naturally, expect something in the vein of the previous year’s Saturday Night Fever. Thus, consumers willing to support any old movie with disco themes were hoodwinked, and the filmmakers who generated a borderline passable showbiz melodrama were precluded from reaching moviegoers who might be interested in the actual content of the picture. No big loss either way, but still. In any event, a couple of peculiar things about Disco Fever are worth mentioning. Famed radio personality and sometimes actor Casey Kasem plays the teen idol’s manager—making this the second of two movies in which Kasem served as Forte’s foil, the first being Soul Hustler (1973). Additionally, George Barris, the self-proclaimed “King of the Customizers” whose main claim to fame was creating the Batmobile for the 1960s Batman TV show, not only appears as himself in this movie, but he also wrote the story and served as one of the project’s executive producers. Holy Random Credits, Batman!

Disco Fever: LAME

Soul Hustler (1973)

          Sort of an Elmer Gantry for the counterculture era, this brief and fast-moving melodrama concerns a low-rent schemer who stumbles into a lucrative career as a rock-and-roll preacher performing under the name “Matthew, Son of Jesus.” The movie has a high kitsch factor, with 1950s/1960s teen idol Fabian Forte playing the starring role and DJ/actor Casey Kasem in the supporting cast. Yet because writer-director Burt Topper goes balls-out while portraying the lead character’s vices (everything from heroin to hookers), the picture has a pulpy sort of integrity. Superficiality ultimately keeps the piece mired in mediocrity, but Soul Hustler is enjoyable as what could perhaps be termed “thoughtful trash.”

          In the beginning, wandering longhair Matthew Crowe (Forte) bums around the country, bonding with fellow vagabond Brian Spencer (Larry Bishop) even as Matthew cultivates his gifts for bullshit and music. Crashing a tent-revival meeting overseen by middle-aged preacher Evin Calder (Tony Russel), Matthew fleeces the faithful for donations, thereby discovering his destiny. Under Evin’s tutelage, Matthew polishes his act, eventually donning saintly white robes and growing a scruffy beard so he can front a hot band and praise “my father, Jesus Christ.” Offstage, Matthew becomes a diva rock star, demanding private jets and other perks even as he indulges himself with drugs and women. Lurid aspects enter the story when Matthew’s drug use causes recovering addict Brian to relapse, when Matthew clashes over strategy with the avaricious Evin, and when sexy Helena (Nai Bonet) tries to wean Matthew off drugs with the promise of a healthy relationship. High-strung promoter Birnie, played by Kasem with a fierce salt-and-pepper perm, lingers around the periphery of Matthew’s story, booking steadily more important gigs until a climactic concert at the famed Forum in Los Angeles.

           Although none of the original tunes in the movie is especially memorable, some of the music has a tasty fuzzy-guitar Blood Sweat & Tears quality, which suits the milieu and the time; concurrently, Fabian’s obvious comfort onstage sells the illusion of Matthew as a charismatic star. Nonetheless, the filmmaking itself is perfunctory, and the story is predictable even though the rise-fall-rise arc is always somewhat satisfying because it parallels the normal cycles of real rock-star lives. No one should sample Soul Hustler expecting a deep movie full of surprises. Taken for the sensationalized cheapie that it is, however, Soul Hustler is an effective expression of the demons that plague a self-destructive and self-loathing hypocrite.

Soul Hustler: FUNKY

Little Laura and Big John (1973)

Years from now, at the end of my epic investigation of ’70s cinema, it will be interesting to see which blockbuster generated the greatest number of knockoffs during the ’70s. For every creature feature designed to mimic Jaws (1975), there appear to be half-a-dozen gangster pictures styled after Bonnie and Clyde (1967). Among the least of these is Little Laura and Big John, a borderline incoherent romantic drama about real-life 1920s criminal John Ashley, who ran amok in 1920s Florida with the aid of people including Laura Upthegrove, later dubbed “Queen of the Everglades.” Presumably, there’s an interesting story to be told about how Ashley and his fellow bandits ravaged the Sunshine State. That story, however, is not told in Little Laura and Big John—at least not in any way that’s discernible. Even with the weak framing device of John’s mother telling the gang’s story, thus introducing the lengthy flashbacks that comprise most of the picture’s running time, Little Laura and Big John is boring and muddy. Character development, continuity, and historical accuracy clearly were not priorities. Musical elements are jumbled, too, since half the scenes are scored with annoying‘20s songs that are repeated endlessly, and half the scenes are scored with some kind of disco/funk bilge, which is completely anachronistic. The acting is just as weird. Former teen idol Fabian Forte (as John) phones in a bland non-performance, and he seems like a little boy playing dress-up during scenes in which his character sports an eyepatch. Meanwhile, ’70s stalwart Karen Black (as Laura) runs her usual gamut, whether she’s trying too hard to be sexy or not trying hard enough to suppress her tendency toward harpy-ish overacting. Atop all these problems, footage is assembled so haphazardly that it seems the filmmakers realized they were missing important chunks but didn’t care. And then there’s the complete non sequitur nude scene, during which one of John’s gunmen spends umpteen minutes staring at a naked bathing beauty through binoculars while standing on a lifeguard tower at a public beach. Calling Little Laura and Big John inconsequential would be too kind.

Little Laura and Big John: SQUARE

A Bullet for Pretty Boy (1970)

          Representing yet another entry into the seemingly endless cycle of post-Bonnie and Clyde crime flicks set during the Depression, A Bullet for Pretty Boy stars former teen idol Fabian—billed with his full name, Fabian Forte—as farmboy-turned-outlaw Charles “Pretty Boy” Floyd. And while the movie contains nothing even remotely approaching artistry or originality, the picture is basically watchable thanks to the inherent appeal of the genre and the likeability of the leading actor. Fitting the usual formula for this sort of thing, A Bullet for Pretty Boy begins prior to the title character’s life of crime. On the day of his marriage to wholesome Ruby (Astrid Warner), Charles gets into a hassle with Ruby’s ex-boyfriend. Later, the guy aims a gun at Charles and accidentally kills Charles’ father, so Charles gets revenge by killing his father’s murderer. A six-year prison sentence is his reward. Partway through his incarceration, Charles breaks out of jail and becomes a fugitive, hooking up with a kindhearted madam and her gangster brothers, who give Charles the nickname “Pretty Boy.” While hiding out in the madam’s brothel, Charles gets involved with a hooker named Betty (Jocelyn Lane). Eventually, Betty becomes Charles’ moll while he embarks on a bank-robbing career. Finally, the story transforms into a love triangle when Charles tries to return home. Danger and tragedy ensue, because cops are waiting for Charles at every turn.

          While it’s admirable that the folks at American International Pictures attempted to examine the psychological and sociological backgrounds for famous gangsters in pictures such as A Bullet for Pretty Boy, the predictability and superficiality of the storytelling in these movies often undercut the good intentions. For example, even though A Bullet for Pretty Boy is only 89 minutes, the film is padded with music-driven montage sequences that use the same bland pop/rock songs over and over again. In other words, maybe 30 minutes of the movie are devoted to character development, and the rest of the running time comprises repetitive filler. That said, AIP knew how to stretch a dollar, so period props and rural locations are used effectively to create a sense of place, and even the least imaginative bank-robbery scene has some built-in excitement. It’s also (mildly) interesting to note that A Bullet for Pretty Boy is rated PG, which means the movie doesn’t rely on the usual exploitation-cinema tropes of gore and nudity. Instead, the film is primarily focused on the protagonist’s struggle to make the best of the circumstances in which he finds himself. Fabian does acceptable work, scowling to suggest anguish, while leading ladies Lane and Warner provide lovely decoration even if their acting underwhelms. B-movie stalwart Adam Roarke, alas, is wasted in a minor part as a country preacher who leaves the religious life behind to join Charles’ crime spree.

A Bullet for Pretty Boy: FUNKY