bgh48

I must concur that this is the Reefer Madness of the 60's, only funnier.

The producers are so out of touch that a lot of the hippie culture seems to straddle the beatnik era, with the kids congregating in smoky dives called Pandora's Box, and the bad girl sports black Carolyn Jones-type hair and wears arm bracelets, and she brings to mind Peter Seller's sinister female companion in "Lolita".

And in the annals of memorable screen images, few can compare with Mimsey Farmer's extended Martha Graham modern dance reaction to dropping acid.

All this, plus Mickey Rooney's kid saying "groovy" a lot.

In the sixties, France had "Jules and Jim"; Italy had "La Dolce Vita". But really, could they compare to this Disney classic? Could Oscar Werner or Marcello Mastroianni possibly compare with Fred MacMurray, with his toupee, pancaked face, wacky gleam in his eye as the, uh, nutty professor of Medfield College who discovers Flubber?? Could the flying Jesus in "Vita" measure up to Nancy Olson and Fred spooning amid the clouds in the Flubberized Model T? I think not. And forget the menage a trois in "Jules and Jim". I prefer the sexual tension between Fred, Nancy, and Elliot Reid.

And Flubber will finally be put to good use for the benefit of all the civilized nations of the worlds.

I love this movie. You will too. God Bless America. And Fred MacMurray.

This is uttered by Virginia Christine (the alluring Anaka in 1945's THE MUMMY'S CURSE) when Melina Plowman tells her that her "uncle" casts no reflection in the mirror. Another pithy line of dialogue, one you'd never expect the legendary vampire to make, is (to his "niece") "Marry a notorious gunslinger? I won't hear of it!" Carradine as Dracula comes across as merely a crochety, vaguely sinister, eccentric uncle with an elitist attitude against immigrants. The actor frankly seems in his, uh, cups, but do you blame him? On the other hand, Chuck Courtney brings a surprising believablity and bantamweight handsomeness and likability to Billy the Kid; he looks somewhat like Audie Murphy, which also helps. Melinda Plowman as Dracula's object of lust, looks like one of those Noxema girls from the 1960's t.v. ads for that skin cream. The strings on the shlocky flapping rubber bat are clearly visible, oh, what joy! Right from someplace like "Eddie's House of Horrors" on Hollywood Boulevard, probably where they also got that shiny big red bow for Dracula.

Another source of delight is the wide eyed, dopey, open mouthed look of stupefaction and wonder on the young German girl's face as she realizes who Carradine is. The old female doc is played straight, and there is something appealing about the dusty, Hollywood/old Wild West 101 atmosphere, with its pleasantly juvenile shootin', fightin' and ranchin' atmosphere, oddly made more pleasant by the juxtaposition of the silly and cheesy vampire-comes-to-town-to-stir-up-the-locals story. This movie is best enjoyed either in a "matinee" time frame, say around 2 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon, or at 2 a.m. that same night.