Don't Make Waves (1967)

Surprisingly incoherent and boring

Simply A Masterpiece

It's a feast for the eyes. But what really makes this dramedy work is the acting.

All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.

This is one of a multitude of sex comedies Tony Curtis starred in around this time in his career; incidentally, I had seen about half of it some years back (also on Italian TV) but had to abort the viewing due to a bad reception! Anyway, if the film is at all remembered today, it is primarily for two reasons: it not only marked the cinematic swan song of a great director, but was also the official Hollywood introduction of the beguiling but ill-fated Sharon Tate. Two more (if lesser) claims to fame should be the undeniably funny Chaplinesque ‘house-teetering-on-the-edge-of-a-cliff’ climax and the fact that leading rock band The Byrds perform the film’s rather charmingly light title tune.Patchy and somewhat hesitant overall, it is nonetheless engaging and occasionally delightful; the satirical barbs aimed at L.A.’s muscle beach mentality (especially David Draper, the amiably moronic blonde hulk who is Tate’s boyfriend), the then-current astrological fad and businessmen indulging in extramarital activities often hit the target – even if with a much blunter edge than in Mackendrick’s previous film with Curtis, SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS (1957). Two other lively highlights of the film are the initial ‘meeting cute’ between Curtis and leading lady Claudia Cardinale (in which, as he tells her himself, she inadvertently manages to ruin his whole life in 30 seconds flat!) and the potentially disastrous sky-diving stunt performed by Tate and (unexpectedly) Curtis, which ends with both of them landing in his newly-inaugurated pool.The film does benefit from a workmanlike cast: Curtis is in good form as an opportunistic young man who, while being compulsively pursued by the accident-prone Cardinale, becomes hopelessly infatuated with luscious, free-spirited beach girl Sharon Tate (her effortlessly sensual slow-motion exercises on the beach early in the film are quite disturbing to watch now when one realizes that she would die so horribly in less than two years’ time); Robert Webber is a swimming pool company executive driven to his wits’ end by lover Cardinale and the blackmailing schemes of Curtis, who soon shows his salesmanship skills by selling a pool to Jim “Mr. Magoo” Backus (playing himself) and a celebrity fortune-teller with the unlikely name of Madame Lavinia (played by famed ventriloquist Edgar Bergen).While it is undoubtedly Mackendrick’s least (i.e. most inconsequential) film – and could well have been the reason why he left the profession and went into teaching – it’s a tribute to his mostly unsung genius that the film is as enjoyable as it is despite the evident flaws.

This film starts out very promising and had me laughing right away with its long chain reaction sequence of disasters. Carlo, in an unperturbed Tom Hanks manner, stops at a beautiful overlook on the California coast, watches a lady painter lose her temper at her easel, who then flings her painting off the cliff in disgust. Carlo then attempts to take a drink from a defective water fountain that shoots a powerful stream of water at his face. Then the lady drives off, but her fender hooks his VW Bug's bumper, causing his car to roll downhill. Then follows a series of humorous and futile attempts by Carlo to stop his car from rolling, the car finally goes over the cliff, crashes in front of both the lady and an oncoming bus, followed by Carlo rolling down the hill after it. During the ensuing argument with Laura, who is arguing vehemently in Italian, she lights a cigarette that ignites the spilled gasoline, causing Carlo's car to blow up. Carlo's clothes then catch on fire and he has to strip in public while a not-so-helpful bystander pours a bucket of water on his head instead of on his burning pants.After the great opening sequence, however, the film became a little odd. It was humorous, but the humor then had a hard edge to it, something like the style in "Up the Creek" (1984), especially when Carlo is forced to sleep on the beach by a nasty paramour, then suffers a realistic clunk in the head by a surfboard while swimming the next morning. Then the film gets kind of artsy, with slow motion and freeze frame scenes of Malibu in her swimsuit, jumping on a trampoline. It seems to want to turn into a teen beach party type flick then, with lots of scenes of surfers, swimsuits, bodybuilders, and The Byrds playing live, but doesn't quite go in that direction, either. Then it moves back into more hard-edged comedy with Carlo working as a swimming pool salesman, then there seems to be a tacked-on episode at the end with Carlo's house starting to slide down a hill during a rainstorm. When the house finally rolls and slides all the way down to the beach, the film then ends! Yes, the film is odd, but I like it! Although the fundamental problem was probably a poorly planned story, the high quality production caused this problem to manifest itself as a unique style, with hard-edged humor, a mixture of genres, a mixture of cultures, and an overall odd story structure. Technically the details are quite good (other than the slightly weak sliding house effects at the end). The photography is good (other than some grainy and mismatched footage of a little girl surfer), the Southern California coastal scenery is beautiful, the music is lively and good, and the '60s style interior decor is wonderfully retro to behold: tikis, a peacock chair, modern art paintings, an interesting bed with a chain net, wood-paneled offices, and so on.Watch this film if you like the styles and atmosphere of the late '60s, avoid it if you're looking for a clear-cut comedy, clear-cut beach party flick, or clear-cut artsy film.

Perfect posture and great bodies dominate in this oddball Tony Curtis comedy. Just about everyone in these reels of celluloid has a superb physique: Claudia Cardinale, Sharon Tate, and even the muscle men pumping iron on the beach. Hard to believe fact: this movie was based on a novel! Some of the bloated beach bums must have stumbled in from a "method" acting class. The leader savors every line of dialog as if it was Milton or Shakespeare. Weird. The setting is radiant to the eye. The special effects people deserve a gold metal for delivering some of the most realistic shots, up to that time, of the ground cracking open and an upscale villa sliding and tumbling down a steep embankment and into the surf. Impressive. It's sad to see Sharon Tate--so young and pretty--just three years before the Manson Gang got their hands on her. Miss Tate's character is skilled in many physical pursuits: trampoline and skydiving included. In one improbable scene, she saves Tony Curtis, James Bond-like, by strapping herself to the free-falling con-man. Miss Cardinale has the curves to match her rival, but she is straddled with shrill dialog and a cranky demeanor. Jim Backus plays himself and performs his "Mister Magoo" routine. I think the movie works so well because it perfectly captures the Southern California scene at a time when many things were changing--and not always for the best. The mid-sixties was the last gasp of a more innocent time and cinema. View after midnight--it rocks.

I like to watch movies as I workout on my exercise bike, and this movie was visually entertaining--all those sights and sounds and styles of Southern California in the late '60s, big fun. Sure, this is a 'light read' but it is a colorful chronicle and a trip back to Muscle Beach, dude. Well, that's all I had planned to say until I was prompted to write more text--I have to write a minimum of ten lines. Whoa, that's like taking an essay test. How am I going to write ten lines about this movie? I'm not a movie reviewer. Well, pass me the popcorn and let me give this a go. It starts with a guy and his Volkswagen and if you watch it, you'll see what happens next. Thanks for reading my movie review. I think it was excellent.