Summer is one of my favorite times to see a movie. Growing up in Arizona in the shadows of a shopping mall, going to the multiplex on a hot summer day when I didn't have school and wanted to kill a few dozen brain cells out of the blinding sun and wilting heat was one of my absolute favorite things to do. Let the cool kids go show off by the swimming pool: for me it was the air-conditioned comfort and the fulfilling fantasies of the silver screen. This summer, in between checking out what's new in the world of blockbusters and indie flicks of today, I'll be bringing you a mini-review of 15 'summer' movies of the past, judged by criteria I made up the other day over a couple of watermelon margaritas. They won't always be good movies, but they'll always bring you a certain summery je ne sais quoi.
Let's start with one of the most famous summer flicks of all time: 1959's A Summer Place.
THE ACTION: Rich toff Richard Egan totes his snobby, moralistic wife (Constance Ford) and pouty, vine-ripe teenage daughter to a New England resort. The owner of the resort is grungy failed capitalist Arthur Kennedy and his lovely lady Dorothy McGuire, who run the joint alongside their dimwitted but hunky son, Troy Donahue. Twenty years prior, Egan had a little thang-thang going with McGuire, and as everyone goes about their summer business, the two rekindle their hot and heavy relationship, as their hormone-crazed children follow suit. This being the 1950s and all, Ford completely flips out, a shameful divorce takes place, a pregnancy scare ensues, and everyone looks at each other very meaningfully while wearing not particularly revealing swimwear. You got all that?
THE PLAYERS: Writer/director Delmer Daves brought to the big screen this adaptation of the biggest '50s potboiler novel this side of Peyton Place, but the real stars here are Donahue and Dee, the resplendent teen idols of the era. Their hot bods and perfect features cast a glare off the screen that you can feel on your brow, and their bad acting raises a stink that overpowers the smell of sea breezes and stale popcorn. Anyone who thinks that vapid, over-exploited, undertalented teen sensations are a recent phenomenon needs look no further than the clunky performances of Troy and Sandra, who became huge stars with the movie's success. (Daves hitched his wagon pretty thoroughly to Troy Donahue's star after this, which is probably why you've never heard of him before.)
SUMMER FUN: If your idea of a good time is hanging around a shabby beach resort and sipping cocktails, this is a real good-time party movie. But it's sadly lacking in any real watusi-and-Bacardi throwdowns, and the ugly shadow of rock and roll never rears itself across the door of the B&B. (Instead, you get Max Steiner's memorable score, which, when recorded by Percy Faith and his orchestra, became a monster hit, and one of the most inescapable tunes of its day.) The adults' idea of fun is sitting around sipping cocktails and making catty comments, along with some fun class resentment over who can afford the better well drinks, and there isn't much surfing to be had around here, so the kids have to follow their parents' lead and fill the long empty summer days with lots and lots of '50s-style fucking. Repressively delicious!
HAWAIIAN SHIRTS: There's not a lot of room for the universal signifier of summer fun here. The movie is set on the east coast, so it leans more towards clamdiggers and outfits that look like they weren't quite formal enough for the tennis court. (Oddly enough, though, the resort where the movie takes place -- designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, no less -- is not in New England, but in Carmel, California. Would it have killed them to throw in one surfboarding sequence, I ask you?)
BIKINI PARTY TIME: Ho yeah! Let those who doubt the awesome power of sublimated sexuality behold rock-ribbed, blank-faced Troy Donahue, lounging around in his tight shorts, vainly attempting to figure out what everyone else in the movie is trying to say. Behold also Sandra Dee, America's favorite symbol of purity, being despoiled before our very eyes, decked out in barely modest beach couture as she frowns out the famous line "Have you been bad, Johnny? Have you been bad with other girls?" Has he ever! A Summer Place is a little too crammed with soap-opera histrionics and Freudian middle-class guilt to be a real good-time summer party movie, but as a prime example of potboiler sex romps and the movie that launched a million shameful teenage boners, it's well worth a look.