On Blu-ray: Where the Boys Are (1960)

The posters and trailer for the 1960 spring break romp Where The Boys Are are so relentlessly cheerful, that it's a bit disorienting to find that while there are certainly laughs in this beach bound flick, it also covers some dark territory. From the insensitive and entitled to the criminally violent, four college women learn that going where the boys are can be fun, but also perilous for body and soul.

Paul Prentiss, Dolores Hart, Connie Francis and Yvette Mimieux star as a quartet of restless college students, freezing through a snowy winter, ready to hit the road for Fort Lauderdale and sunny beaches. Almost right away the subject of sex comes up as Hart scandalizes her prim professor on the realities of relationships for her generation. She's all talk though and plenty hip to the things men will say to get her into bed.

Still, Hart is game for romance, as is the rest of her crew, only they expect to find husbands rather than erotic distraction for the length of their vacation. For all the freedom they grab from their school and parents to take their vacation, they all seem set on becoming as Prentiss says, "a walking, talking baby factory." For them, freedom has its limits and they want it that way.

None of the men they meet are on board with this philosophy though, and many of them are too horny to wait for the sexual revolution. For some of the girls, that simply means a few long nights of negotiation. For one, misunderstanding what men really want steals her innocence in a heartbreakingly brutal way. This side of sexuality had not been explored so thoroughly in the movies, and especially teen beach flicks. Some of it still disturbs today.

This darkness has  a flip side and much of the film's effervescence comes from its leading ladies, all of them at the beginning of their careers. Yvette Mimieux would also appear in Time Machine that year, and here as in that film, she is devastating to watch because she is so vulnerable. Of the four, she is the one who most indelibly captures the dangerous naivety that can lead to taking too seriously the first intoxicating rush of adult life and romantic attention. In her first film, Prentiss becomes a star right away, making her gangly limbs and blunt delivery into something both refreshing and oddly glamorous.

At the top of her singing career, Francis had to be talked into giving acting a try. Having some control over the songs she sang helped to convince her. Of course the title song would end up becoming her most famous. Her character is the only one that doesn't ring true though. While she is beautiful and charming, you are expected to believe she has trouble with men because she is too butch, something which only becomes clear when she sighs that she should quit the field hockey team.

While this trio beams with charisma, it is mellow, magnetic Dolores Hart who steals the show. Only three years away from ditching Hollywood to become a nun, she makes you yearn for more. Here is an actress who would have been especially fascinating as she aged, because no matter what dippy dialogue she was handed, she always managed to give it all a feeling of greater depth. Perhaps it is best to be grateful she made anything at all though; you can't fault her for finding her calling and escaping brutal Hollywood for a life of devotion.

For all its dramatic changes in tone, Where the Boys Are works, because the whole point of it is that it is chaotic. That the insanity and darkness on display are not even close to the debauchery of a modern day spring in Fort Lauderdale is both charming and a little sad. As much as these women are pushing the boundaries of romantic relationships, they and their men are still innocent in a way that is now lost.

The film is now available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive on a disc that includes a trailer, a clip of the film's Fort Lauderdale premiere and a light-hearted featurette featuring interviews with Prentiss and Francis. There is also charming and upbeat commentary featuring Prentiss, who is a great storyteller because she's got a fantastic memory and doesn't take herself too seriously.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

On DVD: George Hamilton and Joseph Cotten in Jack of Diamonds (1967)

Joseph Cotten is master and teacher and George Hamilton is the protégée jewel thief in this cheerful caper comedy, now available on DVD from Warner Archive. The pair are notorious as Ace of Diamonds and Jack of Diamonds respectively; in public life the Jack is known as Jeffrey Hill. In Jack of Diamonds (1967), Ace emerges from retirement for one last great heist with Jeffrey.

Before diving into the plot, the film begins with an extended scene featuring jewel theft victim Zsa Zsa Gabor, who plays herself with evident glee. When she discovers her empty jewel drawer, the actress seems mildly disappointed, as if she has forgotten to buy champagne. Much more exciting is the arrival of the police and the press, an unexpected, but welcome audience.

In a pair of brief segments as previous victims of Jeffrey, Carroll Baker and Lilli Palmer in similar cameos seem equally delighted to be the center of attention. There's nothing more flattering to an actress than being hired to make an appearance as herself.

Hamilton is also full of self-confidence, envisioning himself as more sexy than he is. He's too eager and says his lines too loud to be especially slick. Whenever he tries to flash a sly smile, rather than appearing sophisticated, he looks like a teenager giggling about silently breaking wind at a fancy dinner party.

The actor is interesting to watch though, with a well-placed mole over his lip, an elegantly pointed nose and hair so thick it looks like a shiny brown hat. He doesn't take himself too seriously either. Perhaps Hamilton isn't all he'd like to be, but he's never dull.

Jack of Diamonds is a goofy film, much more so that it intends to be. It's always reaching a bit for effect, but full of things that must be seen, like Hamilton shimmying into a zip-up tux, swinging nonchalantly across his living room on a trapeze bar and skiing down a mountain with a sexy lady in pursuit, the soundtrack blaring with singers yodeling and belting out enthusiastic "do do's" over mariachi-like horns.

It begins to slow down by the half point, getting a bit too engrossed in the police procedurals, making you wonder if Jeffrey is still up on that trapeze, or if perhaps he's doing flips on a fold-out trampoline normally hidden in his couch. Things eventually perk up with a groovy nightclub dance scene which has some awesomely awkward dancing (check out the guy constantly thrusting his arm in the air: mad? or hot moves?). As long as there aren't extended stretches of dialogue, it keeps moving well enough.

While the big heist drags, and doesn't add much to the genre, the continually odd soundtrack adds to the amusement. In an apparent attempt to emulate Ennio Morricone and Lalo Schifrin, the staccato sounds of a man either gagging or quacking like a duck are punctuated with jazzy horns and jaunty flutes.

The accomplices in the heist: Wolfgang Preiss as Nicoli Vodkine and Marie Laforêt as his daughter Volga, don't feel entirely necessary. As Jeffrey's Man Friday Helmut, Karl Lieffen is more entertaining and adorably in love with his employer.

For the most part, the picture is of VHS quality, with light dirt and scratches, some washed out color, and a bit of fuzziness in spots. While it isn't a pristine image, its faults don't detract from the viewing experience.

Though not an entirely brisk ride, Jack of Diamonds offers plenty of fun for fans of lightweight sixties caper and spy flicks.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. This is a Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVD. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.