SPINOUT: Blu-ray (MGM, 1966) Warner Archive

Hollywood veterans, producer, Joe Pasternak and director, Norman Taurog were at it again, creating slick and stylishly packaged entertainment at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, albeit, in the waning days of its supremacy as the ‘king’ of features, but with the latest ‘king’ to emerge from its musical mélange – Elvis Presley. The picture – Spinout (1966) is a glossy regurgitation of Presley’s earlier film fare with far less guts, but proving less offensively skewed towards the transparent marketability of its star as a preening prince of pop culture for which Presley pocketed a cool $750,000 plus 40% of the profits. Cobbled together on MGM’s backlot, with a brief respite at Paramount’s Ranch Raceway, Spinout is throwaway tripe, given A-list talent to camouflage its artistic failings. Screenwriters, Theodore Flicker and George Kirgo’s initial pitch was to create a movie based on Presley’s own rags to riches story.  Alas, this ambition was vetoed by Colonel Tom Parker, by 1966, Presley’s wrangler/manager to have his hooks into virtually all aspects of the star’s public and private life. There are few today who would dispute Parker’s influence on Presley was a double-edged sword – ironically to hasten Elvis’ status as a living legend, yet stifle his creativity to expand upon this hermetically sealed persona crafted by Parker via lucrative recording deals with RCA Victor and film contracts at Paramount and MGM.

That Parker took 50% of Presley’s earnings in trade for his services – an unheard sum for any agent, then or now – and compounded his own wealth via an even more exploitive marketing strategy in merchandising and media appearances, seemed moot at a time. However, Parker’s push into films directly led to Presley’s decline as the reigning rockabilly jukebox hero of the bobbysoxer sect, and, indirectly, to Presley’s gluttonous abuse of food and prescription drugs to medicate the displeasure with his life and career, cut short by his death in 1977. Parker continued to micromanage the estate after Elvis’ demise, and until his own in 1997. Perhaps, Parker knew that any Elvis ‘bio pic’ would have to address his powerful ‘behind the curtain’ influence he would rather keep from the public spotlight. But his control extended to choosing a viable title for this movie, turning down such inane suggestions as Never Say No, Never Say Yes, and The Singing Racing Car Driver. Ultimately, Theodore Flicker found Parker’s influence suffocating and departed the project to work on The President's Analyst. Michael Hoey was brought in to rework the script. But his efforts were virtually ignored in the screen credits.

Spinout is an innocuous bobble with Presley’s image as a hip-swiveling sexpot scrubbed and tubbed into a mainstream and mild-mannered balladeer with mere inklings of desire and all but to forgo that more raucous musical styling that had first placed him atop the pop charts as an untouchable. Of the nine disposable songs (twelve, actually written for this movie) shoe-horned into its wafer-thin plot, only Smorgasbord and I’ll Be Back hint at the sort of frenetic energy Presley’s earliest pop chart-topping songs had exhibited in spades. We first meet Presley’s cinematic alter ego, Mike McCoy as the lead in a traveling band. Mike’s also into auto racing. Apparently, either gig pays the bills. Still, he manages a carefree life, intermittently threatened by three enterprising gals who hope to drag him to the wedding chapel. The fast money is on Cynthia Foxhugh (Shelley Fabares), a simpering daddy's girl, used to getting her way. Cyn's millionaire pappy, Howard (Carl Betz) inveigles Mike in a romance with his daughter under the guise of performing for her birthday. Howard also plies Mike with the opportunity to race his Fox Five. But Mike prefers his own Cobra 427 sports car, which he tows with his 1929 Model J Duesenberg.

A fly in this ointment of love - Diana St. Clair (Diane McBain), author of self-help books for women about men. Of the stalker class, Diana initially befriends Mike as a template for her latest book, The Perfect American Male, but later reveals she has been secretly planning their wedding, despite barely knowing him. The dark horse in this race to the finish for Mike's heart is his drummer, Les (Deborah Walley), an accomplished musician, but considered merely as ‘just one of the guys’ in the band until she reveals her more feminine side in a stunning evening frock. Down to the wire, Mike cannot commit to any of the aforementioned females chasing after his flesh. So, instead, he plots to marry each one off to somebody else. He encourages Cynthia to pursue Howard’s neurotically charged employee, Phillip (Warren Berlinger), who has pined for her from afar for some time. Mike also leads Diana to Howard, and – predictably – they too fall madly for each other. And finally, Mike gets Les to wed Lt. Tracy Richards (Will Hutchins), a police officer whom Les conquered with her gourmet cooking. Having thrice avoided the altar, Mike reclaims his bachelorhood with pride – free to do precisely as he wants in the foreseeable future.

Spinout is the sort of lighthearted foolishness one simply cannot get too serious about in any well-intended critique. Daniel L. Fapp’s slick cinematography is gushingly rich and textured. This film looks great. But it’s still candy floss for the mind with Presley appearing deliciously youthful and devilishly immature – in the very best sense of that word. It is difficult to fault Elvis for appearing so congenial, except that this is precisely the trajectory he had hoped against hope his career would avoid. Instead, he allowed himself to be steered into this mind-numbing oblivion of good cheer and whimsy at the expense of testing his boundaries as a serious actor – a quality that shone through early flicks like Love Me Tender (1956) and Jailhouse Rock (1957). There is none of that Elvis here. No edge to him either, having forsaken the rougher fifties’ rebel lion for the good-time flirtations of a guy as tame as a pussy-cat – and gun shy of seducing the fairer sex to boot.

Fair enough, preferences differ. There are plenty of fans who prefer the Elvis in Spinout to his earlier tough n’ tangle alter ego. But it is Presley who always felt he had sold himself short, or rather, been swayed to be marketed like a ‘blue ribbon’ bull at the county fair. Spinout’s greatest failing – for an Elvis pic, at least – is its score, written by Joy Byers, Fred Wise, Randy Starr, Sid Tepper, Roy C. Bennett, Doc Pomus, Mort Shuman, Bernie Baum, Florence Kaye, Ben Weisman and Sid Wayne. There is not a memorable hit in this pack of songs, though all achieve a level of toe-tapping mediocrity that allows for the picture’s meager 93-minutes to effortless pass away. There appears to be no middle ground here: Spinout is either beloved or despised by the critics and for many of the reasons already listed. So, where does its importance lie in the tenet of Elvis Presley flicks? Placed in its proper perspective, Spinout is disposable fun, aimless but enjoyable, without ever encouraging fans to embrace Presley as anything better than a waning jukebox promoter, transitioning (or transgressing) against the pop tune iconography he first established barely a decade before, as the restless ‘new’ sound of youth culture.

Spinout arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive and – predictably – there is nothing to complain about here. The Panavision/Metrocolor image sparkles with rich, vibrant hues. Contrast is uniformly excellent. Fine detail pops and oozes from every inch of the frame and fine grain is expertly represented. Close-ups are utterly gorgeous.  Odd for a movie in which music plays such a crucial role, but the theatrical release was in glorious Westrex mono, duplicated herein in hi-def. The songs – likely – would not have benefited from a 5.1 DTS upgrade. The 2.0 DTS sounds fine. Extras include two more parceled off Tom & Jerry cartoons and an original theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Spinout spends much of its time spinning its wheels on a yarn that is instantly forgettable after the houselights have come up. Elvis fans will, no doubt, wish to snatch this one up immediately to add to their collection. The Blu-ray, sourced in 4K from an original camera negative, is perfection. Sincerely wish producers had as lofty ambitions for the movie itself. Recommended to Elvis fans. The rest can pass.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

1