THE COOL ONES (1967)

After we endure a terrible dance number being broadcast live on the TV variety show Whizbam, we cut to Cliff Donner, a washed-up one-hit wonder pop singer who is about to start a job as a record company employee. The owner of Stan's Cellar (picture the jazz club in Bell Book and Candle) talks him into doing one last gig, which he does. Back on Whizbam, Glen Campbell (yes, the real Glen Campbell, months before his first top 40 hits) is singing when Hallie, one of the writhing go-go girls behind him, leaps out of her cage and wrestles him for the mic, trying to take center stage as a singer. She is immediately fired and, depressed and brooding, she wanders through the nighttime streets, singing "This Town" (a song also recorded by Frank Sinatra). Hallie winds up at Stan's Cellar where Cliff, who saw her performance and thinks she has talent, saves her from the unwanted attentions of a drunk. When it turns out that the kids at home loved watching the brouhaha and started a dance craze called the Tantrum, Stan, a former talent agent, gets Cliff to help him turn her into a star. Though the two hit it off, he is reluctant to return to performing, but agrees to just to give her a start. Stan brings his brother, Tony Krum, an eccentric but powerful producer, in on the plan and it's his idea to concoct a romance, a quickie marriage and a divorce between Hallie and Cliff for publicity. When Cliff, who was actually falling for Hallie, finds out what's going on behind his back, complications ensue.

The opening of this movie was so bad, I almost gave up right away. It's a writhing psychedelic 1960s attempt at a 1930s Busby Berkeley production number. But I’m glad I stuck with it because it eventually becomes a colorful, fun satire of the music business. This is one of those cases where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. The acting is only so-so (with one exception), the writing is fairly weak, and the music is mostly not memorable. But it all manages to come together into a fun distraction for a Saturday afternoon. The very handsome Gil Peterson and the peppy Debbie Watson are OK as Cliff and Hallie; Peterson's slight tendency to underact and Watson's tendency to chew the scenery make them work well together. Phil Harris, Robert Coote and George Furth are mostly going through the motions in supporting roles. But Roddy McDowell is having a field day as the producer, clearly based on Phil Spector. He's rich, he dresses in purple (even his limo is purple), and when he lands in his private jet, he turns to his pilot, snaps his fingers and says, "Park it, Sky King!" There are diegetic songs such as the ones in performance settings, and a couple of non-diegetic songs in which characters just burst out into song and dance. The best of these is "High" by Lee Hazelwood (These Boots Are Made for Walkin'), a long and elaborate number sung by our lead couple and their friends at a ski resort. Best lyrics: "We’re gonna get high up here/We're gonna stay high up here!" Oddly, Peterson sings slightly updated versions of some old standards like "Birth of the Blues" and "Secret Love." There are some fun visual gags, including an office full of buxom secretaries and a rock band composed of children who are constantly trying to audition for Tony. One teenager uses a line from West Story to a combative adult—"You were never my age!" This is no masterpiece, but with its colorful sets and mockery of the music biz, it snuck up on me. (As did, I must admit, the blond and pretty Gil Peterson, for whom this appears to be the high point of his career). Pictured are Peterson, McDowell and Watson. [TCM]