BUGSY MALONE: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1976) Paramount Presents
Alan Parker’s directorial debut, Bugsy Malone
(1976) has since taken on a life of its own. And while the movie possesses a certain one-off
‘lure’, with exceptional production design by Geoffrey Kirkland, stunning art
direction from Malcolm Middleton, Harry Cordwell’s remarkable set decoration,
and Monica Howe’s exemplary costumes – all of it handsomely photographed by cinematographers,
Peter Biziou and Michael Seresin, the essential ingredients for a truly iconic
movie musical are somehow lacking. Chiefly, Paul Williams’ score strains to
straddle the chasm between vintage 20’s gangland pastiche and his own particular
brand of mid-70’s funk. I recall so well, a 5’1” Williams, in accepting his
Oscar for Best Original song, ‘Evergreen’ from the ‘76 Streisand/Kristofferson
remake of A Star is Born, reflecting upon his initial intensions to ‘thank
the little people’ before suddenly realizing “I’m one of them!”
Diminutive in physical stature, though hardly in raw talent, in Paul Williams
we have a fascinating late-20th century renaissance man: composer,
performing artist, songwriter and actor. Prolific in virtually all of these
ambitions, if anything Bugsy Malone is proof positive even Paul Williams
had his limitations. Apart from the ensemble-sung ‘message’ ditty, ‘You Give
A Little Love’, the song catalog concocted by Williams for this picture are
a mostly awkward, and occasionally clumsy attempt at aping Andrew Lloyd Webber’s
otherwise accomplished ‘pop opera’ inflections, albeit with none of Webber’s
finesse for creating instantly hummable tunes.
Williams performs the song, heard over the main titles and interpolated
throughout the movie thereafter. Alas, it lumbers along on that lugubrious mid-70’s
twang, more a dirge than the entrée for the rest of the occasionally bouncy,
often bluesy bits yet to follow it.
Electing to dub virtually all of his child stars with
more adult – and uncredited - vocal talents deprives us of our total admiration
for the invested performances otherwise given by Scott Baio, Florence Garland and
Jodie Foster (fresh from her startling turn as the prepubescent prostitute,
Iris in Scorsese’s Taxi Driver, 1976). It ought to be pointed out,
Garland was billed above Foster here, as Florrie Dugger, in her one and only
movie. Ambitious Aussie/Brit producer, Robert
Stigwood’s name was all over this one too. Stigwood, who began his career as a
theatrical agent in the mid-60’s was, by 1976, better known for managing the
Bee Gees and marketing Brit-based screenplays to be remade for the U.S. market
by American producers (Norman Lear’s All in the Family, based on Till
Death Us Do Part, and Sandford and Son, based on Steptoe and Son,
becoming two of his most lucrative sell-offs). Stigwood had also produced the West
End stage versions of Hair and Oh! Calcutta!, and, Jesus
Christ Superstar on Broadway, the latter, successfully adapted for the big
screen in 1973, swiftly followed by the Who’s Tommy (1975). 1976 would
be a watershed year for Stigwood, though not for Bugsy Malone, but
rather the signing of John Travolta to a 3-picture deal, yet to bear itself with
the wildly popular release of Saturday Night Life (1977), deftly
followed by Grease (1978).
The chief deficit in Bugsy Malone remains
Gillian Gregory’s audaciously awful choreography. It’s practically nonexistent,
relying heavily on Biziou and Seresin’s camera work to make it click. Alas, too
much of their efforts are relayed through fast pans or abnormally obstinate camera
angles, presumably designed to give us something ‘interesting’ to see, while
the pint-sized cast pretty much wiggle, kick or otherwise, flail their arms
into the air with uncoordinated frenzy. A musical is generally in trouble when
its central purpose for existing – to feature a spellbinding array of songs and
dances – falls flat, or hits decidedly sour notes. Bugsy Malone does
both with mind-numbing consistency. Indeed, there is a point when one merely
wishes Parker and Stigwood had elected to tell a straight-forward gangland-themed
noir/drama, minus the interminable line-up of shoddily assembled tunes and
taps, otherwise to stop the show cold…and not in a good way. Paul Williams’
score is hermetically sealed in a mid-70’s vacuum, truly to diffuse the otherwise
stellar visual recreations of 20’s speakeasies and seedy, lower East Side
neighborhoods (sets, built at Pinewood, but looking every bit as though the old
B&W Warner Bros. gangster/movie-land backdrops of yore where Cagney,
Robinson and Bogart had once played, now to have been resurrected in glorious
Technicolor).
As our cast herein is prepubescent, the bad ole days
of tommy guns have been replaced with the invention of the ‘slurge’ gun – emitting
a projectile ‘paintball’ of heavy whipped cream, to humiliate, rather than maim
its victims. Aside: the guns never actually worked properly, necessitating some
clever editing to give the illusion of their deftness at making a mess. Our
story begins during prohibition with the slurging of a mobster, Roxy Robinson
(John Williams). Speakeasy boss, Fat Sam (John Cassisi) is incensed, suspecting
his rival, Dandy Dan (Martin Lev) behind the most recent ‘crime wave’. Indeed,
all a fella need be is slurged to end his ‘career’ as a respectable thug. We
also meet Bugsy Malone (Scott Baio), a boxing promoter down on his luck. Blousey
Brown (Florrie Dugger), an aspiring singer, is disillusioned when Sam refuses
to see her audition. But Bugsy, who
trips over Blousey’s luggage, is immediately smitten. Before Bugsy can get a
toe-hold in their relationship, Sam’s speakeasy is invaded by Dandy Dan's men,
who shoot up the place. As the carnage on Fat Sam’s reputation as an imminent
gangland figure continues, Sam sends his own posse, except for Knuckles (Sheridan
Russell), to ambush and slurge Dan’s gang. Alas, Dan appears yet again to have
the upper hand.
Bugsy pitches Blousey as a singer to Fat Sam. Now, Sam's gal/pal, smoldering Tallulah, makes
a pass at him. Although rejected by Bugsy, Tallulah’s big kiss on Bugsy's
forehead is witnessed by Blousey, who becomes jealous. Blousey’s audition is
successful. But she thereafter refuses to speak to Bugsy. Meanwhile, Fat Sam
engages Bugsy to chaperone a meeting with Dandy Dan. The détente turns out to
be a trap. Nevertheless, Bugsy is successful at getting Sam out of their pinch.
Sam gratefully pays Bugsy for his services and Bugsy used the money to procure
a good time for him and Blousey. The two reconcile, and Bugsy promises to
eventually take Blousey to Hollywood. Alas, upon returning home, Bugsy is
ambushed by Dan’s boys who steal all his money. He is saved by Leroy Smith
(Paul Murphy), a potentially great boxer. Noting these skills, Cagey Joe
(Davidson Knight) begins to train the novice for the ring. Meanwhile, Fat Sam
once again employs Bugsy for protection after Knuckles is killed by a
malfunctioning slurge gun. Unable to clearly see Bugsy’s motivation is all in
her service, Blousey again becomes disillusioned when her guy fails to buy
their tickets for California. Realizing the job is too big for him, Bugsy
recruits Leroy and a bunch of down-and-outs from the soup kitchen to invade Dan’s
hideout where the guns are kept. Ultimately, Dan and Sam’s boys converge on Sam’s
speakeasy in an all-out assault of cream pie slurges. Disgusted by their bad behavior, the saloon’s
piano player strikes up ‘You Give a Little Love’ – a song, preaching
tolerance over temerity. Seemingly had enough of their chronic wars, Sam and
Dan’s gangs reconcile. Blousey and Bugsy depart for Hollywood.
Bugsy Malone was Alan
Parker's first feature and his inexperience in picture-making shows. Reportedly,
the impetus for the movie was Parker’s own imagination, telling stories, set in
the gangland milieu, to his own children on long rides to keep them motivated. Given
the green light to pursue his passion project, Parker cast virtual unknowns,
based more on types than talent. For Fat Sam, the director visited a Brooklyn
classroom, asking to be introduced to ‘the naughtiest boy in class’. Florrie
Dugger came to the part of Blousey only after the child originally cast
suddenly experienced a growth spurt. Reportedly,
Scott Baio won the title role when he flubbed his audition, throwing the script
at Parker before walking out. But the actress to make the most meaningful
impression was Jodie Foster, who, at only age 12, startled the director with
her articulate nature, and comprehensive knowledge of the film-making process.
“Jodie was wise beyond her years,”
Parker later reasoned, “I think she directed me as much as I directed her…she
could have complicated technical conversations with the camera crew and script
supervisor…I joked that if I got sick, she could take over.” Parker’s one regret,
shared by Paul Williams, was that the cast had not been allowed to sing in
their own voices. “I should have given the kids a chance to sing the songs.”
Bugsy Malone arrives on
Blu-ray as part of the Paramount Presents…line-up; curious indeed, as
the picture bombed in the U.S. but was, otherwise, a sizable hit in Europe,
particularly England. At the time, critics mostly responded favorably to this
kitschy send-up to the gangster flick. Today, alas, it has not dated well. All
evidence to the contrary with this stunningly beautiful 1080p transfer. Colors
here are robust. Contrast is excellent. Fine detail abounds and film grain
looks very indigenous to its source. In short, it’s a perfect presentation. The
5.1 DTS audio is dated during dialogue scenes, but really comes to life for the
Paul William’s score. Extras include 2 featurettes, one with Williams’
reflecting on the making of the movie, and the other with the late Alan Parker
from 2009, presented herein as the ‘Filmmaker’s Focus’. We also get a
theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Bugsy Malone was always an odd duck of
a movie. I don’t often (okay, never!) agree with the New Yorker’s late film
critic, Pauline Kael, though on this occasion her observations on this movie as
“nothing but its godawful idea” in which we observe “kids doing a
stunt”, priming the audience “…to ooh and aah, the way (we do) for a
chimp on the Carson show” seems to best sum up my impressions too. Suffice
it to suggest, time has not mellowed that critique. While Bugsy Malone rates
a weirdly popular 81% on Rotten Tomatoes, I cannot imagine anyone beyond
the age of 7 today deriving any immense joy from the experience of seeing it,
outside of the adult curiosity to see from whence the great Jodie Foster’s
longevity as a movie star once hailed. The Blu-ray is excellent. The movie –
not so much. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the
best)
2
VIDEO/AUDIO
5
EXTRAS
2
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