Showing posts with label GOLD KEY COMICS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GOLD KEY COMICS. Show all posts

Friday, January 28, 2022

UPTON-LY MOBILE

Disney's animated masterpieces get rapturous acclaim; the studio's live-action movies get less love, and far less critical attention. While this is no doubt appropriate, Disney's live action flicks shouldn't be completely neglected. A few of them, like Old Yeller and Swiss Family Robinson and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Darby O'Gill and the Little People, qualify as classics, but even apart from these, Disney's adventures and slapstick comedies of the mid-20th Century, corny and sentimental and formulaic as many of them were, formed an important part of the early moviegoing experience for kids of the '50s, '60s and '70s. Including me.

But recently I caught up with a live-action Disney I managed to miss when it came out in 1967, and again when it was re-released in the '70s: The Gnome-Mobile. It was among the last productions worked on by Walt himself, who died before its release. It's pretty hokey and syrupy, with a bouncy, cringe-inducing theme song by the Sherman Brothers that can get stuck in your head. But it has a great roster of character actors, and an environmentalist message, and it raises some startling questions that left me, for a few weeks, with an interest in the film out of scale to its triviality.

The Gnome-Mobile is about a logging tycoon (Walter Brennan) who is driving his grandkids Elizabeth and Rodney (played by Karen Dotrice and Matthew Garber, the kids from 1964's Mary Poppins) through a redwood forest in Northern California in his opulent 1930 Rolls Royce Phantom II Sedanca De Ville. They stop to have a picnic, and Elizabeth wanders off and meets a friendly young gnome named Jasper (Tom Lowell). She convinces Rodney and Gramps of Jasper's existence, and then they meet his crotchety 900-something-year-old gnome grandfather, Knobby (also played by Walter Brennan).

Jasper and Knobby are apparently the last of their kind, at least in that forest, and old Knobby has given up on life and is prepared to slip into the gnome Great Beyond. But Gramps and the kids whisk them off in the backseat of the Rolls, now designated "The Gnome-Mobile," in search of a forest with a gnome population, and in particular with some fetching and eligible young lady gnomes for Jasper to meet. Trouble arises in the form of the lumberman's conniving corporate crony (Richard Deacon), who questions the sanity of his boss, and also of a rotten showman (Sean McClory) who gnome-gnaps, and plans to exploit, the diminutive forest folk.

So it's a '60s-era Disney product; sometimes cute, sometimes treacly, maybe a little more eccentric than usual but more or less routine. Three time Oscar winner Brennan, most remembered for playing lovable cantankerous galoots in Westerns like Red River and Rio Bravo, is said to have asked, when offered any part, "With or without?" by which he meant would he play it with or without his dentures. With his dual role in The Gnome-Mobile, probably for the only time in his career, he had one of each kind in the same movie.

It was great to see the other vets in the cast, too, including Charles Lane, Jerome Cowan, Maudie Prickett, Byron Foulger, Ellen Corby, Frank Cady and the great Ed Wynn, whose final film this was.

Not long before I saw the movie, I had turned up the Gold Key comic tie-in...

...and my friend, who showed me the film, also showed me the toy Gnome-Mobile he got as a premium from Clover Club Potato Chips when he saw the movie back in the day...

...and still had in his collection. But even with all these connections, the movie probably wouldn't have rated more than a passing mention, if it hadn't been for its source.

Upton Sinclair.

That's right, The Gnome-Mobile is based on a 1936 book called The Gnomobile by Upton Sinclair, prolific muckraking socialist author remembered for his 1906 novel The Jungle, which blew the lid off conditions in the Chicago meatpacking industry, and for dozens of other vigorously leftist works, both fiction and nonfiction (Paul Thomas Anderson's There Will Be Blood was very loosely based on Sinclair's 1926 novel Oil!). In the 1920s he was a Socialist candidate for Congress from California, and three times a candidate for Governor of that state, twice as a Socialist and then, in 1934, as a Democrat (all of these campaigns were unsuccessful).

The Gnomobile is Sinclair in a lighter vein, obviously; it was written for his granddaughter Elizabeth, and he subtitles it "A Gnice Gnew Gnarrative With Gnonsense, but Gnothing Gnaughty." Still, I had to wonder how the two Walts--Disney, a staunch Republican, and Brennan, who is said to have been such a rabidly reactionary John Birch-style right-winger that he was gleeful when he heard of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., and thought that the Watts riots should have been handled with a machine gun--felt about bringing lefty environmentalist propaganda to the screen.

So I read Sinclair's Gnomobile. It's available on Kindle, but I also obtained a 1966 paperback reprint from Tempo Books, a tie-in to the Disney movie...

This edition seems to have been slightly revised (maybe by Sinclair himself?), to avoid datedness, from the 1936 text on which the Kindle edition appears to be based; some references to "Shirley Temple" are replaced with "Jacqueline Kennedy," for instance. And the original dedication, to Sinclair's granddaughter, is changed in the reprint to "FOR ALL WHO LOVE AND PROTECT OUR FORESTS."

The story of The Gnomobile is different from that of Disney's The Gnome-Mobile in several respects. The tycoon is a minor background figure in the book; Rodney is here Elizabeth's whimsical, poetry-minded older uncle, not her brother, and it's he who drives her and the gnomes in the title vehicle. And the names of the gnomes are not Jasper and Knobby but "Bobo and Glogo"; in this, at least, the Disney version may have been an improvement.

On the whole, however, the book has a distinctive flavor that is homogenized out of the movie. Sinclair's tone has that self-consciously jocular quality which authors who normally write for adults sometimes adopt when they try their hand at writing for children. But it also has an unpredictability, an endearing sweetness, and moments of effectively deadpan humor. And Sinclair's descriptions of the various forests our heroes explore (they wander much farther than they do in the movie) have a lovely reverence.

It would be interesting to know how much Disney knew about this source material. Probably it's naive of me to imagine that the lefty tendencies of the author would have especially upset the producer; it may be, indeed, that moguls like Disney, if they thought about it at all, regarded this sort of adaptation as the most expeditious method to handle spiky material: Buy it and neutralize it into inoffensive insipidity.

This was, essentially, the process we saw dramatized in Saving Mr. Banks, where Walt and the boys do to Mary Poppins almost exactly what P. L. Travers fears they will. But that movie presented it as a positive, even redemptive experience for Travers. I wondered at the time if Travers really felt that way, and I likewise wonder if Sinclair, who died in 1968 at the age of 90, saw The Gnome-Mobile, and what he thought of it if he did.

One last note: Turns out the Rolls used in the movie now resides in the Gilmore Car Museum in Hickory Bluffs, Michigan, along with the oversized backseat set. Anyone up for a road trip?

Thursday, March 15, 2018

THE FORCE AWAKENS?

This week our President suggested that the U.S. military may soon have a new branch: The "Space Force!" Presumably its duties would include protecting us from threats like...

Monster-of-the-Week: ...this "Menace from Uranus" depicted...


...on the cover of this 1967 Lost in Space comic from Gold Key. The adventure's title may provide a clue to the source from whence the President pulls his ideas.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

TRIPLE THREAT





Check out my preview, on Topless Robot, of the movie panels at this year's Comic-Con San Diego.

Speaking of comics, here's a literary masterpiece from the period of my youth that I recently came across:



It's a Whitman Three Stooges comic from 1971, and it features various monsters, including...

Monster-of-the-Week: ...this one...



...with one head per Stooge!

Thursday, May 31, 2012

STONER AGE

A pal recently sent me a superb collection of Turok, Son of Stone, my comic book of choice as a kid. What a blast to revisit the tales of Turok and his young friend Andar, indigenous Americans who wander into a vast “Lost Valley” of dinosaurs and pronoun-challenged cavemen. Among the delights was…

Monster-of-the-Week: …this two-headed horror on the cover of issue #62 (July 1968)…


…which, it turns out, was an hallucination by Andar, who was tripping under the influence of some local flora—a bit of none-too-subtle anti-drug propaganda. As I recall, I found it a bit of cheat as a kid that the promised monster was just an illusion. Sure is a cool painting, though.

The collected Gold Key Turok adventures are being re-published in hardcover “Archive” editions by Dark Horse comics. Volume #10, which contains this issue and a couple of the other first comics I ever bought, is out this month.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

THE APES OF WRATH

After seeing Rise of the Planet of the Apes, I spent the weekend geeking out with my Apes DVD collection. Here’s a quick guide to the original Apes movies, available both separately and as a boxed set:


Planet of the Apes (1968)—This adaptation of Pierre Boulle’s Monkey Planet is a classic of austere, moody sci-fi satire. Charlton Heston is at his spitting-mad best as an astronaut who’s crash-landed on a planet where apes talk and humans don’t. His indignant fury at being manhandled by the simian set seems perfectly sincere. His costars Maurice Evans, Kim Hunter & Roddy McDowall actually manage to give expressive performances through the then-state-of-the-art makeup of John Chambers.


Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970)—The first sequel—a clash between the warlike apes & a race of grotesque, telepathic, nuclear-bomb-worshipping mutants living under the ruins of NYC, with the humans caught in between—is perhaps the creepiest & harshest of the series, but it’s also imaginative & grimly funny. I‘ve always had a perverse fondness for this weird, downbeat movie, maybe because it was my first Apes experience, or maybe because I had the Gold Key tie-in comic-book version. A pity I read it to tatters back then; it now goes for hundreds of dollars on eBay.


It came with your very own “Ape Protest Poster”:



Escape From the Planet of the Apes (1971)—Chimpanzees Roddy McDowall & Kim Hunter use Heston’s spaceship to go back in time to America of the early ‘70s. They’re celebrated at first, but Hunter finds she’s pregnant, fear of an ape planet sets in among the humans, & tragic trouble ensues. A highlight of this one is Ricardo Montalban, oozing courtliness as a gallant circus owner.

Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (1972)—By the 1990s, apes are a slave class in America, until the articulate young chimp Caesar (McDowall yet again) rises to lead the revolution. This wild piece of agitprop is the chapter which most closely corresponds to the new film.

Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973)—The final sequel of the original series—though short-lived live-action & cartoon TV shows would follow—shows how the human-simian rift was averted. It ends with humans & apes living in harmony, like in a cross-species Benetton ad.

Re-watching these movies, what’s odd is how much fun we found them as kids, despite their curmudgeonly misanthropy. They were about the persistence of war, oppression, bigotry, fanaticism, clannishness, anti-intellectualism & murderous paranoia, & most of them ended tragically. Even the optimism of the closing chapter was wistful & wary; their critique of humanity was irksomely hard to refute.


What made them lovable, I think, is that their cynical pessimism, though darkly comic, was never gleeful—their outrage at human folly was heartfelt. These movies may have seen a peaceful, decent future as a long shot, but they didn’t mock it as an ideal.