A Strange Adventure (1956)
Grade: C-
If you've seen at least one low-budget, mid-1950s noir, then you'll have a handle on the first third of A Strange Adventure, which is neither strange nor particularly adventurous. Busty Lynn (Marla English) lodges at a small-town motel and catches the eye of the owner's hot-rodding-yet-clean-cut son Harold (Ben Cooper). Backrubs and picnics ensue.
Lynne's shady associates arrive from Omaha -- the sharp-faced, short-tempered Al (Jan Merlin), and the perpetually congested Phil (Nick Adams). Harold figures out the men are bad news, but naturally still thinks Lynn is pure as the driven snow. Robbery, murder, kidnapping, and car chases ensue.
At the 30 minute mark, things take an unexpected and chilly turn, as the escaping criminals drive into the Sierra Nevadas and end up stranded at a gas company snow survey cabin staffed by brother and sister Luther and Terry (Peter Miller and Joan Evans).
A snow survey cabin! Usually we'd expect a yeti or other beast at this point, but sadly it's not that kind of movie; we're still in a noir, just one that's transitioned from heisting to hostaging. The strangest thing on offer is Phil's choice of outdoor headwear.
And if you're wondering, "Hey, how did they know to bring their winter clothes?", the film has you covered -- the crooks, arriving from Nebraska, make an off-hand comment early on about the unexpected mildness of the California winter. Take that.
As is the rule, sisters need to be someone's love interest, and dark-haired Terry fits right in where Lynne left off. And hey, Harold could do a lot worse -- Terry is much cuter, and turns out to have brains, brawn, and no shame in using either.
Between the sabotaged radio, hobby Geiger counter, and giant motorized snowmobile, the plot is full of literal devices that add interest in an otherwise by-the-numbers crime drama.
Overall not terrible, yet nothing particularly special. The ending is rushed and pat, and there's one huge loose end left dangling (Woody, anyone?) However, a few clever deceptions and the wintry setting give it a slight edge over other, less differentiated fare.
(An interesting footnote: Emlen Knight Davies, who plays the blink-and-you'll-miss-her role of motel owner/mom, is the daughter of former Soviet Union ambassador Joseph Davies, of Mission to Moscow fame. Emlen accompanied her father and stepmother -- wealthy cereal heiress Marjorie Merriweather Post -- to Moscow from 1937-38, and has published a series of photographs from her trip. Why she decided to go into acting in her mid-30s, after a young life spent globetrotting, meeting royalty, and marrying an MIT-educated Belgian engineer, the internet seems to know not.)
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The Werewolf of Washington (1973)
Grade: B-
Quadruple Bathroom Upgrade: B
We don't get too many black comedies in the box -- our beloved Terror at the Red Wolf Inn is really it. Anything else qualifying as "funny" is either unintentionally so, or else a poverty row non-horror movie tossed in by Mill Creek as filler -- and usually, when all is said and done, not all that humorous anyway.
Now we can add The Werewolf of Washington to that short list, and it ticks all the boxes. We love the 70s aesthetic, and this has it in spades -- the whole movie is a send-up to the most laughable parts of Watergate era Nixon and his administration, right down to the Black Panther hating buffoon of an Attorney General.
Interesting protagonist? Check -- Dean Stockwell gives a wonderful off-the-rails performance as the anxious Jack, who gets himself bit by a you-know-what while stationed in Hungary, then watches his life fall apart spectacularly when he returns to D.C. as the President's new press secretary.
Life lessons? Oh sure, those too -- it's important that films be educational, as well as entertaining. We learn all about how to conduct ourselves in true 70s style, with demonstrations of bathroom etiquette...
...and home decor...
...not to mention commentary on gender roles...
"Jack, will you please stop scratching the palms of your hands? It's . . . it's just not manly."
...asserting oneself...
"This is not the thing I want! I don't want him here!"
...sports skills...
"Jack, will you throw the ball! Throw the ball down the aisle!"
...and kindness to animals.
"Are you real? Are you really real?"
The movie's strong in geometry -- eventually we'll learn to distinguish Pentagons from pentagrams -- but not so hot with astronomy. Four or five full moons within a two-week span? Who knows, maybe 1973 was an astronomical anomaly.
With the random midgets, prank phone calls, ludicrous political caricatures, eye-gouging wallpaper, and snarling aplenty, there's so much to recommend The Werewolf of Washington as the featured terrible entertainment at your next gathering. There's no gore to speak of, so even the kiddos might get a kick out of Stockwell's wacky werewolf makeup and shenanigans, though most of the Nixon satire will probably sail right over their heads. (And if it doesn't, send 'em over here -- there's a kid named Sascha Segan we'd love them to meet.)
