House band in this film:
The Kingsmen, from Portland, Oregon, a group which prior to this film
had gone through several line up changes. Per Clay Stabler, an
expert on the band, the group you see in movie consists
of Mike Mitchell on guitar and vocals, Lynn Easton on sax and
lead vocals, Norm Sundholm on bass and vocals, Dick Peterson on
drums and vocals and Barry Curtis on organ and vocals.
Things start off on a
good foot, with both the most creative title sequence of the entire
series (claymation by Art Clokey, the creator of Gumby) and
some fun music. That's a wonderful Baxter instrumental
piece, one that employs a pounding, guitar-based Bo-Diddley-ish
rhythm section as foundation. The number builds and builds as
the titles proceed, reaching a climax when the main
title is finally introduced.
After
the basic storyline (which here involves a cameo Avalon being off on
naval reserve duty) is introduced, we switch to the beach, where the
gang is dancing to some unnamed twangy guitar piece. The subsequent appearance of
a walking but empty bikini leads the men in the group to jump into
the title song, and it’s here we first realize that the music this
time around is definitely different.
How To Stuff A Wild
Bikini
is performed by a choreographed
male ensemble (above), led by John Ashley – a
veteran of four of five of the prior films who hadn’t previously
sung in any of them. He is given a red electric guitar as a prop,
which amusingly gives the viewer the sense he supposed to be
standing in for long-gone Dick Dale. It’s actually not a
bad number, a good combination of upbeat “orchestrated” rock and
ensemble singing. This is complimented by some nice
camerawork, which of course involves lots of close up
admiration of bikinied girls.
This
is followed by the arrival of Mickey Rooney’s character (“Peachy,” a
yes-manish advertising promoter). Just to add emphasis to his
corporate-ness, he’s pretentiously outfitted in a three piece suit
and bowler. After
picking the newly arrived “Cassandra” (a muse-like bombshell that
has been created by a witch doctor Frankie retained, placed on the
beach to distract the boys away from Dee-Dee ) as the
model “girl next door” for a motorcycle promotion, the women in the
gang object by jumping into the rollicking
How About
Us
(scene shown on lobby card, left). It’s a treat here to
finally see an ensemble number that doesn’t include a
principal cast member (ergo, Annette) and the girls make the most of
it, surrounding and badgering Rooney. He joins in, eventually
insisting that he can’t be swayed from his original
choice.
Annette is then introduced to her
replacement love interest, Dwyane Hickman, who is Rooney’s
pre-determined choice for the “boy next door” for his
promotion. Amusingly, "Dee Dee" is sitting
on the beach fully clothed, in contrast to all the other
bikinied girls running around. So despite her baggy cover up,
attention to her "condition" (ergo, pregnancy) is immediately
drawn.
We
then cut to a corporate conference room, where Rooney discusses his
choices with his boss, “B.D. (Big Deal) McPherson” (played by
seasoned character actor Brian Donlevy). This leads to the male
ensemble number Madison
Avenue. This quirky
number almost seems out of place, being the antithesis of
everything Beach Party music had previously been about (it’s an
old fashioned musical comedy number, in a formal setting and
performed solely by white males, many well over the age of 40). However, that contrast is
effective, as it reinforces the elements of Mickey Rooney’s
character and scripts’ subtle subversive notion of “adult big
business” trying to take advantage of the “kids.”
Later, we’re back at the beach at
night. John Ashley
appears with that red electric guitar again, so we know we’re in for
a musical number. He
goes through the crowd telling every guy “Operation
Cassandra,” which leads to a male ensemble number,
That’s What I Call A Healthy
Girl. It’s the first real
rock n’ roll piece in the film, sung by the guys as they surround
Beverly Adams. She
literally glows as the men in the gang sing their song of worship,
while the girls stand in the background, doing a slow burn. Mickey Rooney arrives, and
after a rather archaic “gay” joke, he rescues Cassandra from her
admirers.
After some intermediary nonsense, we are
back at the beach during the day. After one of the most
ridiculous, blatant and embarrassing product placements in movie
history (Annette and Dwayne Hickman are shown sitting together on a
beach blanket, each busily chowing down their own huge personal
bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken) we are treated to another
wonderful Baxter instrumental, during a beach “chicken
fight.” This diversion is somewhat reminiscent of the
Beach Ball sequence in Pajama
Party, albeit without the dance choreography.
That's not the only thing that's familiar here; Baxter's composition
- a guitary, moderate tempo number -- sounds quite a bit
like Henry Mancini's Baby Elephant
Walk from the 1962 John Wayne film
Hatari (that reference may not ring bells
for many, but I guarantee if you heard the latter song, you'd
immediately recognize it).
The script then turns to developing the Eric Von Zipper
part of the storyline (he desires to change his “image” from that of
a cycle thug to Rooney’s corporate “boy next door,” primarily so he
can get closer to Cassandra).
He and the Ratz and Mice show up at Mickey’s office, which
results in a great ensemble number, The Boy Next
Door. What’s entertaining here isn’t just Lembeck’s usual great
character play, it’s also the amusing choreography as Rooney
repeatedly attempts to chase the gang out the door.
By
now, we’re well into the film, and it’s time for a club scene. We go the club (which looks like it
was decorated by the Egyptian cousin of Martha Stewart; you'll have
to see it for yourself to understand what I
mean), which gives the writers an excuse to put in an
appearance by The Kingsmen, the house band in the movie. Other than Stevie Wonder,
this is about as close as one ever gets to seeing a true “brand
name” rock group in these films, and they were already well known
for their infamous, legendary 1963 mega-hit version of
Louie Louie.
While we’re praying for them to jump
into that number, they instead proceed to bang out
Give Her
Lovin,
which is about as close as one can come to a museum quality example
of the generic, somewhat vacant sound of domestic rock n’ roll circa
late 1965. In other
words, it’s neither here nor there; not early 60s fun nor late 60s
psychedelia. Also, for
whatever reason, the feeling during this piece (as the editing
bounces back and forth between the band and the dancing kids) is
somewhat – and sadly – fatigued. One senses that the
excitement of a rock group driving the kids “wild” (which had been
readily apparent two years earlier in the first film) has run out of
steam, and that we are just going through the motions here.
Fortunately, that fatigue evaporates
somewhat when Kingsmen lead singer Lynn Easton (who is given a
rare script line) invites “Dee Dee” to do a song. A dressed up (and still
covered) up Annette jumps into the scene, and gently dances around
the room as she confidently sings Better Be Ready.
Much better written and performed than
the piece that preceded it, the bouncy pop-balladish
Better Be
Ready
underscores how critical Funicello’s mere presence has become to the
series at this point.
Without her (or Lembeck) things tend to feel stale. The moment she appears, the
sun comes out.
The
club scene continues with arrival of Von Zipper, who dances with
Cassandra to an unnamed twangy Kingsmen tune. That is followed by a
confrontation between him and the character played by Dwayne
Hickman. After Dwayne
gives Zipper the infamous "Himalayan
suspension technique" (a.k.a. the “finger,”) he asks
Annette “what was all that about?” She responds with one of the
most honest script lines of these films, laughing as she says
“it’s a long story.”
The
next day, we’re back at the beach, and almost immediately get
treated to one of the best film musical numbers Annette ever
did. Seated in the
sand with all the girls in the gang surrounding her (left), the
scene starts with Dee Dee reading a letter from Frankie to her
friends. Telling her
how lucky she is to have such a wonderful guy, Annette responds to
the group with The Perfect
Boy, a
classic, upbeat AIP film ballad. As a bouncy, popish piece,
the song plays to Annette’s strengths, and is polished by the
choruses of the female ensemble as they rock back and forth to
the beat. Unfortunately, the film version of this great song is
quite abbreviated; the preferable one on the Wand soundtrack LP is
much longer, containing a full additional verse and a
choral/instrumental bridge.
After Annette gets additional
information (to the effect that Frankie is not being loyal),
we cut to the dark, grimy pool hall hangout of the Ratz and
Mice. Harvey Lembeck
arrives, surprisingly decked out in a three
Annette regails the girls of the beach
gang
with
piece suit and bowler. The gang responds negatively
to "The Perfect Boy," one of her best numbers of
the whole
series to
his new “corporate boy next door” image. This leads
leads him to march the Ratz and Mice through an amusing reprise of
their I am My
Ideal
number from Beach Blanket
Bingo,
except this time with different lyrics and better choreography. Frankly, the version here is
more fun than the one in the prior film, the humor here being more
engaging, supported by better camerawork and costuming.
By the end of the number, the entire motorcyle gang has been
transformed from a bunch of leathered thugs and chicks to a group of
suited yuppies (below, right), albeit two decades before that term
existed.

By
now, Annette is furious with Frankie and he is frustrated at the
failure of his attempts to keep her “faithful.” As both lean towards new
relationships, the script creatively tells that story through a
musical number, If It’s Gonna
Happen. This is a truly unique
piece, a “duo split screen duet,” with Annette and Dwayne Hickman
singing on the left and Frankie Avalon and Irene Tsu on the
right. The ballad is
the second great one in this film, and a nice example of how a good
book piece can communicate emotion better than any straight script
line. Note that you’re
hearing more than the actors here; Tsu’s brief solo vocal early in
the piece is a dub, she is just mouthing the voice you hear, which
is actually that of Arthur Godfrey Show alumnus Lu Ann Simms. Interestingly, the Wand
soundtrack LP version of this song is different, performed
solely (and gorgeously) by
Simms. More information on this
and Simm's career is on the How to Stuff A Wild Bikini Original Soundtrack
Album page of this
site.
Baxter continues to demonstrate his
competency during a subsequent fight scene between Hickman and a
villain character, “South Dakota Slim.” The bouncy, effective theme
piece he scored for this segment is reminiscent of the “POW
BANG KRUNCH” school of music one heard during the inevitable battle
at the climax of every contemporary Batman TV
show.
Speaking of climaxes, we’re now heading
for the supposed one of this feature, the motorcycle race. Before we get there, however
(and lower your expectations, it’s like every other silly motorized
action sequence in these films, ergo cheap and poorly done B movie
slapstick) we get to watch some absolutely wonderful interplay
between two comic greats, Rooney and Lembeck. The pair is literally on
character actor autopilot as they scheme to cheat to win the
motorcycle race. The
combination of Rooney’s classic nasty slow burn and Lembeck’s
brain-dead misinterpretations is a pure joy to watch.
After
the race, things come to a close with a cozy night time beach
scene. The music starts
right at the beginning of the sequence, with John Ashley again at guitar
(this time acoustic).
As the camera does a long tracking shot across campfires,
surrounded by gang members busy smooching and hugging, we hear a
slow ensemble piece, After The
Party. This almost
Mitch-Millerish sounding number is somewhat stuffy, but appropriate
to the scene and the presumed emotion behind it. Dee Dee says
goodbye to Hickman, Frankie literally appears out of nowhere, and he
and Annette close their Beach Party career as they should, kissing
on the beach.
As the credits roll, we hear yet another jazzy Baxter
theme piece (he really peaked with this film), which is shown over a
reprise of the beach chicken fight sequence. AIP – which
never missed an opportunity to promote its wares – also
sticks in a promo for its upcoming Sergeant
Deadhead (a now comparatively forgotten
"military/space musical comedy" that -- by virtue of casting and
scripting -- is closely related to the Beach Party genre, and
is covered in the clone section) at the
end. |