Saturday is typically "Take Out the Trash" Day. And while this is not the worst movie I've ever seen, it certainly comes wretchedly close....
The Story of Mankind(Irwin Allen, 1956) Before becoming "The Master of Disaster" of 1970's cinema, and even before his tenure of TV sci-fi schlock-meister in the 1960's, Irwin Allen was making movies of indeterminate quality and low budgets, first with RKO, where he produced movies as package deals teaming actors, writers and directors. We talked about one of them, Double Dynamite, here. That one starred studio boss Howard Hughes' favorite, Jane Russell, a down-on-his-luck Frank Sinatra...and Groucho Marx. He produced another film—also starring Groucho—before making his directorial debut with a documentary version of Rachel Carson's The Sea Around Us, a film that Carson loathed—she never again let Hollywood touch one of her books—but it managed to win the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature. And because it relied largely of stock footage, it also managed to turn a tidy profit.
After moving from RKO to Warner Brothers, Allen made another documentary and then turned his attention to The Story of Mankind. Based on a Newbury Award-winning children's book,*published in 1921, Allen did a very (very!) loose adaptation**, again relying mostly on stock footage, and a large cast that were paid day-rates and shuffled through production as quickly as possible.
The film centers around "The High Tribunal of Outer Space"—basically a three-tiered court-bench, a couple of desks and a floor of fog, with a circle of extras and as cheap a set as has been used in Hollywood—where the High Judge (Cedric Hardwicke) is holding court. It seems that mankind has created a new weapon, a "Super-H-bomb" and the survival of the species is in the balance. So, a case is being made—not that it would apparently do any good—of whether mankind (or species-kind) should survive. Nothing is said of how the outcome will be dispensed or if any interference is going to be made to influence the outcome.
At least, with a fantasy like A Matter of Life and Death, the stakes were small enough that events could be altered to accommodate the judgment, but here there is no apparent action—there evidently was no stock-footage available to make the point.
So, we're left with an impotent court-proceeding in judgment of mankind. It was a hoary concept then, and it was a hoary concept when Gene Roddenberry purloined it for the pilot of "Star Trek: The Next Generation". The prosecuting attorney arguing against the mass-plaintiff is Mr. Scratch, aka "The Devil" (played by Vincent Price, who seems to be the only player having a good time making the movie and who, therefore, seems to attract audience sympathy). For the defense is a singular non-entity called "The Spirit of Mankind" played by Ronald Colman (his last role) with the resigned air of a beleaguered "straight-man" going through the motions.
The Devil brings up all sorts of examples of humanity at its worst. Then, Allen illustrates it with set-design at its worst and trots out one of his day-players—John Carradine as Khufu, Peter Lorre as Nero, Virginia Mayo as Cleopatra (the script actually says "Yes, Cleopatra was quite a girl..."), Marie Wilson as Marie Antoinette (the way she squeaks "Let them eat cake!" will set your teeth on edge), and...wait for it...Dennis Hopper as Napoleon.
Peter Lorre's Nero is extremely illustrative of the whole exercise.
"The Spirit of Man" counters with Moses (Francis X. Bushman), Hippocrates (Charles Coburn), Hedy Lamarr as Joan of Arc—with one really unfortunate transition between scenes***—Queen Elizabeth I (Agnes Moorehead) and William Shakespeare (Reginald Gardiner), Sir Isaac Newton (Harpo Marx...Harpo Marx?!!), Christopher Columbus (Anthony Dexter explains his theory of a round Earth to a monk played by Chico Marx!!), Alexander Graham Bell (not Don Ameche, but Jim Ameche), then wraps things up with a plug for The Bible and a kid representing the potential of mankind. Judge Judy would have cleared the room in seconds...with her boots.
As he did with his earlier documentaries, Allen bridges scenes that he shot with stock footage from other Warner films to make it appear that some money was spent on the thing and it wouldn't surprise if he cherry-picked figures from the History that he had available images for.
You could make an argument that it all was an attempt at "camp" if the serious parts weren't taken so seriously and the comedy bits didn't fall flatter than the American accents used by all these international figures. No, it's all "1950's-sincere," which is merely hilarious in retrospect for all the silly import imbued in the thing. "Camp" implies you know what you're doing.
But, I will confess to enjoying a couple of things. Price's performance is enjoyably arch, and played with his typical game commitment to bad material. If he betrayed on ounce of condescension, it wouldn't work or be as entertaining as it is and one has to admit, he's a Hell of a trooper.
And then there's a Groucho Marx moment in his embarrassing segment of Peter Minuit robbing the island of Manhattan from the Natives, who declare the proposition "robbery!" ("That's quite true, but is it a deal or isn't it?"). It's just one line, but it made me laugh out loud. When Groucho/Minuit meets with the all-too Anglo-depicted Indians, he is greeted with the stereotypical "How..." to which Groucho replies "Three minutes and leave them in the shell!"—a Marxian non sequitur of such head-spinning irrelevance that for a moment I thought the movie might actually be turning clever.
Needless worrying. The segment was racist, sexist, inaccurate, and (worst of all) unfunny, showing how off the Marx The Story of Mankind is.
The Story: When Pres. George W. Bush was giving out the names of the 2001 Kennedy Center Honors, he went through the list of names of all the recipients and highlights of their careers that cemented the award, mentioning a newspaper headline that said "All the honorees can carry a tune. And then there's Jack."
Nicholson'd been around. You can see him in old AIP Horror movies for Roger Corman and the occasional bit-part in other genres. He'd show up rarely on TV—you can find episodes of "Dr. Kildare" (where he played a dance instructor in a five-part episode where he co-starred with occasional series co-star...William Shatner) and even "The Andy Griffith Show" ("Thaaaank you, Aunt Beeee...fer belieeevin' in me..."). He was starting to do more writing, producing, even directing, when he got a call that Rip Torn* was no longer a part of Dennis Hopper's biker-western Easy Rider and could he get to the set?
It came at an opportune moment—the perfect performance in the perfect film at the perfect time. I'm not a fan of Easy Rider; seeing it in a theater and subsequently, it's a roughly slapped together road movie of the "inarticulately vague" variety saved by long stretches of beautiful László Kovács photography—where you don't have to listen to the characters talk—and a superbly chosen soundtrack. Just when you get tired of Hopper over-acting and Fonda under-playing, along comes Nicholson's George Hanson, who can string sentences together without inserting a single "man" or "like" and who seems to have a multi-dimensional personality.
It's like a breath of fresh air in joint-smoke-filled room. And Nicholson makes the most of it as a combination fool and wise-man on side of the road, especially in this scene as he—with an almost-straight face—half-convinces Hopper's stoned Billy that the lights he thinks he sees in the sky are part of a conspiracy of aliens to take over the human race...and Hopper is so fucked-up and paranoid he seems to buy it, even after Hanson cracks himself up in the middle of it. Easy Rider may have gotten a few things wrong about the future of the country...but it got the gullibility thing right.
And Nicholson's Hanson is a delight, with the actor slowly drawling out the words at a pace somewhere between James Stewart and James Mason, punctuating the sentences with looks that editor Donn Cambern can't seem to cut away from him.
And then, there's that killer smile. Nicholson burns every watt it generates in this scene. You knew you were watching a star in the making when it un-spooled. When the character disappears a few minutes later, the movie never really recovers, a bit tarnished with Hanson's demise. In Mad Magazine's parody (Issue 135 "Sleazy Riders"), Hanson doesn't even go with Wyatt and Billy, begging off saying that CBS-TV was building a series around him. Seemed apt.
The film, despite itself, became a hit. Hopper and Fonda parlayed it into some short-lived success. Nicholson got an Academy Award nomination, and never looked back.
The Set-up: Billy (Dennis Hopper) and Wyatt (Peter Fonda) have enough cocaine to fuel a trip "to find America" and have made their way from Los Angeles with an intended destination of New Orleans in time for Mardi Gras. In New Mexico, they're arrested for "parading without a permit" after driving down the street along with a parade through town. Their night in jail is spent with George Hanson (Jack Nicholson), a local lawyer—in for a charge of drunkenness—who's done work with the ACLU. George pleads their case and all three get out of jail. Billy and Wyatt tell George of their plans and invite him along, which George agrees. That night, camping out in the desert, they offer George his first joint, which George initially refuses because he doesn't want to get "hooked" but then acquiesces.
Action (man)
BILLY: Oh, wow!
BILLY:What... was that, man?
What the hell was that, man?
WYATT: Huh?
BILLY:No, man... Hey, man, like, wow.
I was watching this object, man.
BILLY:Like the satellite that we saw
the other night.
It was going right across
the sky, man, and then...
BILLY:I mean, it just suddenly uh...
It just changed direction
and went whizzing right off, man.
-
BILLY:It flashed...
-
WYATT: You're stoned out of your mind, man.
BILLY: Yeah, like, I'm stoned,
you know, man...
BILLY:but I saw a satellite, man...
BILLY: and it was going
across the sky...
and it flashed
three times at me...
BILLY: ...and zigzagged
and whizzed off, man.
BILLY: And I saw it.
George exhales his long-held smoke.
GEORGE HANSON: That was a UFO
beamin' back at you.
GEORGE: Me and Eric Heisen was down in Mexico
two weeks ago.
GEORGE: We seen 40 of 'em
flyin' in formation.
GEORGE: They, they, they...
GEORGE: ...got bases
all over the world now, ya know...
GEORGE: They been comin' here
ever since 1946...
when the scientists first started
bouncin' radar beams off of the moon...
GEORGE: ...and they have been livin' and workin'
among us in vast quantities ever since.
The government
knows all about 'em.
BILLY: What are you talkin', man?
GEORGE: You just seen one of 'em,
didn't you?
BILLY: Hey, man,
I saw something, man...
but I didn't see it working here,
you know what I mean?
GEORGE: Well, they are people
just like us...
from within
our own solar system...
except that their society
is more highly evolved.
They don't have no wars.
They got no monetary system.
They don't have any leaders
because each man is a leader.
GEORGE: I mean, each man...
Because of their technology...
they are able to feed, clothe,
house and transport themselves...
equally and with no effort.
WYATT: Wow.
BILLY: Well, you know something, man?
You wanna know what I think?
BILLY: I think this is a crackpot idea!
That's what I think.
BILLY: How 'bout that?
How 'bout a little of that?
I think it's a crackpot idea!
If they're so smart...
BILLY: ...why don't they reveal themselves to us
and get it over with?
GEORGE: "Why don't they reveal themselves
to us?" is because if they did...
it would cause a general panic.
GEORGE: Now, we still have leaders...
GEORGE: ...upon whom we rely
for the release of this information.
GEORGE: These leaders have decided...
to repress this information
because of the tremendous shock...
that it would cause
to our antiquated systems.
GEORGE: Now...
GEORGE: ...the result of this has been
that the Venusians...
have contacted people
at all walks of life.
GEORGE: All walks of life. (starts to laugh)
GEORGE: Yes.
GEORGE: It would be a devastatin' blow
to our antiquated systems.
GEORGE: So now Venusians are meeting
with people in all walks of life...
GEORGE: ...in an advisory capacity.
GEORGE: For once, man will have
a godlike control...
GEORGE: ...over his own destiny.
GEORGE: He will have a chance
to transcend and to evolve...
with some equality for all.
WYATT: How's your joint, George?
GEORGE: Oh, my....
GEORGE: I believe it went out.
GEORGE: I got to talkin' so much
I clean forgot about it.
GEORGE: Went out.
WYATT: Save it. We'll do it tomorrow morning,
first thing, all right?
Gives you a whole new way
of looking at the day.
The film centers around "The High Tribunal of Outer Space"—basically a three-tiered court-bench, a couple of desks and a floor of fog, with a circle of extras and as cheap a set as has been used in Hollywood—where the High Judge (Cedric Hardwicke) is holding court. It seems that mankind has created a new weapon, a "Super-H-bomb" and the survival of the species is in the balance. So, a case is being made—not that it would apparently do any good—of whether mankind (or species-kind) should survive. Nothing is said of how the outcome will be dispensed or if any interference is going to be made to influence the outcome. 
