Operation: 00-Oddballs :: Peter Lorre and Jimmy Bond Tortures Us All to the Edge of Madness!

And so, finally, we wrap-up Operation: 00-Oddballs with our Super-Secret Final Feature that ain't so secret anymore. That's right, we're doing Casino Royale -- vintage 1954, which was the very first 007 feature ever put to film, starring Barry Nelson and his Marine buzz-cut as the very American card-shark cum super-spy, Jimmy Bond.

No. Seriously. Lemme explain. You see, back in 1954 Plymouth Motors sponsored CBS' Climax! Mystery Theater, an hour-long anthology series which ran from '54 to 1958. The Casino Royale adaptation came early in the show's run, the third episode, according to most sources, premiering on October 21st of that inaugural year. Other adaptations included Sorry, Wrong Number, Fear Strikes Out, Gore Vidal's take on Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and Raymond Chandler's The Long Goodbye. 

CBS paid author Ian Fleming $1000 for the rights to adapt his first James Bond novel of the same name. To condense the novel to the show's limited format, scriptwriters Anthony Ellis and Charles Bennet were forced to strip it down to the bare bones and one setting. They also made Bond an American agent working for some combined intelligence agency with the other NATO countries. And once you adjust to the notion of an American Bond, the square-jawed Nelson isn't all that terrible. Honest. Meantime, Linda Christian makes a fine and feisty femme fatale. But it's Peter Lorre who anchors the whole thing and runs away with it as the villain of the piece. I absolutely adore this man and he's fantastic here as the giggling and sadistic Le Chiffre, especially when he gets to say lines like "We will torture you to the edge of madness!"

Now, remember, this was the 1950's and live TV, meaning no matter how much you plan ahead and rehearse, once the lights go on and the camera start rolling what you see is what you get no matter what happens or goes awry. And though there were few technical gaffes (-- including an Urban Legend inspiring mix-up we help debunk), one cannot help but boggle at the magnitude of what they were trying to pull off. Believe me, I know, having worked in live television. And believe me, you know I'm gonna tell you all about THAT in the review, too. No. No. It's relevant. Trust me.

Thought to be lost forever, a kinescope containing the majority of the broadcast was found in 1981 by film historian Jim Schoenberger, except for the ending. Luckily, the missing pieces were eventually found and the whole thing was pieced back together. And luckier still, the 1954 version of Casino Royale is available for all to see as a bonus feature on MGM's DVD for the 1967 version -- or you can a full debriefing on Casino Royale, the final entry in our Operation: 00-Oddballs Spy Spoof Retrospective, over at 3B Theater.

 

Other Points of Interest:

Full film review of Casino Royale (1954) at 3B Theater.

Climax! Mystery Theater Presents: Casino Royale (1954) Americana Entertainment :: CBS Television Network / P: Bretaigne Windust / AP: Elliott Lewis / D: William H. Brown / W: Antony Ellis, Charles Bennett, Ian Fleming (novel) / M: Bernard Herrmann / S: Barry Nelson, Peter Lorre, Linda Christian, Michael Pate, William Lundigan

Operation: 00-Oddballs :: Making Love and Kicking Ass in 47 Different Languages Never Looked So Cool!

Our latest fantastical feature opens with a montage of natural disasters in the scale of biblical proportions, pounding and plaguing almost every nation on Earth. We then move under the sea, to a stealthy black submarine, where three figures -- a stunning red-head, a bald-headed thug, and that guy from Knight Rider -- twist a few knobs on some hand-held cosmic doohickey, and then smugly watch the devastating results of their machinations through the periscope as more hurricanes rage, volcanoes erupt, and the Lydecker Dam crumbles, causing a valley of miniatures to be washed clean away.

Meanwhile, in Washington DC, at the headquarters of the international crime-fighting group known as Z.O.W.I.E. [Zonal Organization World Intelligence and Espionage -- or something like that], Lloyd C. Cramden (Cobb), Z.O.W.I.E.'s top banana, feverishly consults with his fellow agents and experts to try and figure out who is behind all of these unnatural weather disasters. Seems Cramden smells a dubious plot behind it all because whoever controls the weather controls the world. And so, he orders everyone to submit what qualifications are needed to root-out these no-goodniks, which will then be fed into a super-computer to determine the best man for the job. But when the answer is finally regurgitated, the boss is none to happy about the results. For the safety of the entire world relies on a man who never found an order or procedure he wouldn't follow, the original international man of mystery, lady-killer, and roguish scoundrel, Derek Flint!

When Dr. No debuted back in 1962, I'm sure producers Albert Broccoli and Harry Saltzman were hoping the adventures of their suave super-spy, James Bond, would be a hit and make them some money; but I don't think even they could have predicted the magnitude of the world-wide phenomenon they had just hatched. And as their franchise quickly blew up, it wasn't long before people started to cash in with their own tales of spies and intrigue in almost every form of popular media. Some were good. Some were bad. And some of them were pretty darn funny.

And for the record: if the world was indeed in trouble, and it were up to me to decide who gets to save it? There's no question, in my mind. Forget 007, I'd be calling Derek Flint, too. This jet-setting playboy and doer of good deeds was a true Renaissance man and played beautifully by the seemingly miscast James Coburn. At first glance all spindly arms, long legs, catcher's mitt hands, huge clod-hoppers, and a face that's all teeth, well, looks can be deceiving. Smart, tough, and lethally effective, Coburn's Flint was also Hugh Hefner's wet dream. I've touched on this before, but, from the very beginning, the James Bond franchise was precariously teetering on the edge of self-parody already. And in 1966, producer Saul David convinced 20th Century Fox to push the Bond mythos over that inevitable edge with Our Man Flint, where our hero and his bevy of beauties ran totally amok through some truly eye-popping sets, where swank and the space-age met on the graph of such things. Just take a look:

Ably aided and abetted by Jerry Goldsmith's martini-buzz-fueled score, will our man Flint be able to stop these nefarious forces of evil and their diabolical blackmail scheme to change the world into a slightly bent utopia, where all women are turned into pleasure units to stock the Whiskey-A-Go-Go and the Dreamland Drive-in in the Reward Room of GALAXY? To answer that you can either give it a spin for yourself or you can get a full debriefing of Our Man Flint, part four of our Operation: 00-Oddballs Spy Spoof Retrospective, over at 3B Theater. 

Other Points of Interest: 

 

Full film review of Our Man Flint at 3B Theater.
 

Poster campaign for Our Man Flint at the Archive.
 

Newspaper ads for Our Man Flint at the Morgue.
 

Our Man Flint (1966) 20th Century Fox / P: Saul David / D: Daniel Mann / W: Hal Fimberg, Ben Starr / C: Daniel L. Fapp / E: William Reynolds / M: Jerry Goldsmith / S: James Coburn, Lee J. Cobb, Gila Golan, Edward Mulhare, Shelby Grant, Sigrid Valdis, Gianna Serra, Helen Funai

Operation 00-Oddballs :: Matt Helm vs. the Magic Sparkomatic Bartender and Slaygirls Dressed to Kill!

Wow. Has it really been over six months since I last tinkered with this marathon? That, my friends, is a lot of Red Tape or something. Anyhoo, due to somebody's procrastinating and a running headstart at celebrating the pending New Year, the regular writer of this retrospective has, well, kinda disappeared for a weekend bender. Fear not, faithful readers, both of you, OPERATION: 00-Oddballs marches right along thanks to the timely intervention of long time reader, and even longer time friend, Endless Dave Hudson.

And m'man has drawn a plum assignment, dissecting one of Dean Martin's Matt Helm films. And though this series of spoofs isn't exactly what author Donald Hamilton envisioned with his pulp novel spy hero, it did help cement Martin as one of the Kings of Cool in my book.

 
The Ambushers, says Dave, was the third of four Matt Helm spy films starring the preternaturally-loose, turtle-neck-clad Dean Martin. While Martin was capable of excellent dramatic work (more on this later), this movie is best seen while in a state of relaxation just short of coma. Don’t expect its 101 minutes to make much sense, for the location footage to match the sound stage shots or for anyone involved to try particularly hard. Not trying hard was Dean Martin’s prime charm, after all. If it bothers you, have another drink fer Christ’s sake. It’s what Dino would do...

And to read the rest of the review, click on over for a full debriefing on our terminally overdue third installment of our OPERATION: 00-Oddballs spy-spoof retrospective.

Other Points of Interest: 

Full film review of The Ambushers at 3B Theater.

Newspaper ads for The Ambushers at the Archive.

Poster campaign for The Ambushers at the Archive.

The Ambushers (1967) Meadway-Claude Productions Company :: Columbia Pictures Corporation / P: Irving Allen / AP: Douglas Netter / D: Henry Levin / W: Herbert Baker, Donald Hamilton (novel) / C: Edward Colman, Burnett Guffey / E: Harold F. Kress / M: Hugo Montenegro / S: Dean Martin, Janice Rule, Senta Berger, James Gregory, Albert Salmi, Beverly Adams

Operation: 00-OddBalls :: Getting to the Root of the Diabolical Dilema Over My Dastardly Dislike of Danger: Diabolik!

Written by the sibling tandem of Angela and Luciana Giussoni and initially drawn by Gino Marchesi, the Diabolik fumetti (-- the Italian term for comic books) was first published in November, 1962. As the legend goes, sister Angela lived near a busy train station in their native Milan and noticed how much reading the passengers did on their lengthy commutes, especially the paperbacks. Now, Angela had a brief career as a model before marrying Gino Sansoni, who then took a position in Sansoni's publishing firm. And while observing all those commuters, Angela hit upon the notion of creating a new fumetti using the same, smaller dimensions for the reader's convenience. As for what it should be about, depending on which story you believe, Angela either polled the commuters on what they liked to read most, with violent mysteries and steamy adventures winning out or she found an abandoned Fantômas novel on a train and took it as a sign of inspiration.

Angela and Luciana Giussoni

Fantômas was a devious master-criminal co-created by French writers Marcel Allain and Pierre Souverstre. And in typical grand guignol fashion, Allain and Souvestre's protagonist was one sadistic S.O.B. with definite sociopathic tendencies. He was a master of disguise, completely ruthless, and killed without qualm or mercy to achieve his own ends in 43 published adventures.


Despite this grisly modus operandi, Fantômas proved quite popular throughout Europe and inspired many imitators. And with another copycat character set, forming her own company, Astorina, Angela Giussoni bet the bank on this new publishing venture, beginning with the first issue, Ill Re del Terrore (The King of Terror). History proves that Giussoni's gamble paid off, big time, as the public voraciously ate up the intricate plots, protracted violence, and sizzling sensuality of Diabolik and kept coming back for more. E'yup, the series had legs and proved so popular famed Italian producer Dino de Laurentiis soon came calling about the possibility of a feature film adaptation. To direct, de Laurentiis picked Mario Bava, one of my favorite filmmakers of all time -- and I'm sure Bava crapped his pants when the producer gave him a budget of over three million dollars after making gold out of the few copper pennies spent on his previous features.


Teaming up with four other writers on the script, according to several sources, Bava's film version stays fairly true to the comic, too, with, let's face it, a moronically implausible plot of improbable and daring escapades, followed by even more impossible escapes that honestly work better in the panels of a comic -- or a spy movie, 'natch. But, honestly, the plot, characters, and character motivations are just a means to an end. The end being one of the most fantastical feasts of stunning visuals and incredible action set-pieces that almost carry the film into the win column for me. Almost. But not quite.


To find out why, check out our full film review of Danger: Diabolik over to 3B Theater for a complete debriefing on the second installment of our Five part Operation: 00-OddBalls spy-spoof retrospective. The rest of which we will be rolling out over the next few weeks. Stay tuned!

Other Points of Interest:

Full film review of Danger: Diabolik at 3B Theater.

The poster campaign for Danger: Diabolik at the Archive.

Alas, all efforts to find any print ads for this feature failed.

Rumblings from the Mothership :: Operation: 00-OddBalls Commences!

When one thinks of borscht-belt comedians, and Ed Sullivan Show regulars, Marty Allen and Steve Rossi, the subtle, suave and debonair skills of a super-spy really don't spring to mind. Splutter, maybe. But not spring. Basically, picture Joe Besser, with Larry Fine's wild hairdo, and Marty Feldman's googley eyes, and then team him up with carbon-copy of Dean Martin from a vintage copier that's a little low on toner and you'll have a pretty good mental picture of our dynamic duo.


As the legend goes, Rossi was "discovered" by Mae West while acting in a production of The Student Prince in 1953, who incorporated the singer into her Vegas show. After the tour ended, Rossi formed the Robinaires, a musical group, who wound up as part of Nat "King" Cole's entourage. But by 1957, the singer was ready to try something different. Maybe some comedy, he confided with his boss, who knew a guy, who new a guy that he felt would be a perfect fit. Allen, meanwhile, after a hitch in the Army Air-Corps, used the GI Bill to attend USC, majoring in journalism. But while in college, Allen spent most of his nights honing a comedy act at several clubs that soon had him opening for the likes of Sarah Vaughan, Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme. Allen had also toured with Cole, who, remember, knew a straight-man who needed a comedian and gave Rossi the funny-man's number.

Video courtesy of Candymintz.

The two had chemistry, hit it off, and over the next decade the duo made over 700 guest-appearances on the tube -- including three of the four Sullivan episodes which featured The Beatles -- and hammered out 16 comedy albums on top of all the touring and live performances, providing an opening act for the likes of Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra.


As for Allen's famous "Hello dere!" catch phrase, apparently, one night in the middle of the act, the mad-quipper suffered a bad case of brain-lock and couldn't remember his lines and just kept blurting out "Hello dere" over and over. The audience loved it, chimed in, chaos ensued, and he's been using it ever since. As with most comedy teams, alas, they were destined to split up, and split up they did in 1968. But before the break-up, the duo had enough of a following to land them the lead in a feature film, a spoof, naturally, on the current spy and espionage-addled box-office boom called The Last of the Secret Agents?


And to be honest, these unlikely heroes both have their moments in the film to come. And remember, it could be worse. We could be dealing with Sammy Petrillo and Duke Williams. Yoinks! Now there's a scary thought.


For the full film review of Allen and Rossi's The Last of the Secret Agent? click on over to 3B Theater for a complete debriefing on part One of our Five part Operation: 00-OddBalls spy-spoof retrospective. The rest of which we will be rolling out over the next few weeks. Stay tuned!

Other Points of Interest:

Film review of Last of the Secret Agents? at 3B Theater.

Poster campaign for Last of the Secret Agents? at the Archive.

Newspaper ads for Last of the Secret Agents? at the Morgue.