"We just reject all the ones we can't stand, and sort through whatever's left...." (3.5 stars) I recorded this off TCM last week, mostly because I saw it had an appearance by Sharon Tate from the same year she did "The Fearless Vampire Killers." Which is, of course, a perfectly good reason to see any movie.
And while there's a fair amount here to satisfy people who just want to see Tate -- specifically some long, strange shots of her in a bikini bouncing endlessly on a beachside trampoline -- there's a lot more going on here.
"Waves" is basically a rake's progress tale as stammering, backstory-free Tony Curtis arrives in California and charms/scams his way to the top of a Malibu swimming pool empire.
Along the way he meets the aforementioned Tate (as a vacant but intrepid skydiver named ... Malibu); an accident-prone, broken-English-spouting Claudia Cardinale who destroys Curtis' little VW and then helps him stage his comeback; her sugar daddy (Robert Webber); his angry, voluptuous wife (a criminally underutilized Joanna Barnes); a queeny, crooked astrologer; future Mr. Universe David Draper; and, oddly enough, Jim Backus who, in an almost Charlie Kaufman-esque scene, plays himself and offers to do Mr. Magoo voice readings for Curtis at the promise of a free pool.
It even has an animated opening sequence (depicting Curtis' VW on an antic world tour) with music by The Byrds.
Basically, this is one of those glossy, widescreen, Metrocolor sexless sex farce confections from the waning days of the studio system -- Benjamin Braddock had to live somewhere nearby, but had he wandered into the story, the universe probably would've collapsed into itself.
What's odd, though, is that this was made by director Alexander Mackendrick exactly 10 years after he and Curtis made "The Sweet Smell of Success" together. Mackendrick doesn't have material by Lehman and Odets this time; the script is by one writer (Maurice Richlin) responsible for Inspector Clouseau and "Operating Petticoat," another (George Kirgo) who'd just penned the Elvis Presley epic "Spinout," and -- should it even be a surprise -- an uncredited Terry Southern.
Obviously, "Success" is the classic acid indictment of fame and corruptive ambition and the sting of betrayal. That film had its stark black-and-white photography, its potent and bustling New York aesthetic, its whip-cracking dialogue and a genuine taste of bile in its mouth. Which makes it not so much the *opposite* of the sunny, West Coast "Waves," but a reversed or negative image of it. It's Bizarre-O "Success."
And one of the reasons "Waves" is interesting is because you can tell there's some kind of force behind it, you can smell a whiff of satire beyond its heavy seabreeze, perfume and cigar smoke. But those aromas never quite waft to the forefront. The movie is intelligent and somewhat literate without ever actually being smart; witty without ever really being funny; and fairly sexy without ever attempting to even acknowledge the ramifications of its own weird carnality.
But it's also strangely paced and rambling without ever really being boring. As a result, I think it's a fascinating movie, even though the awkward slapstick grows tiresome and leads to a conclusion in which all the characters wind up in the same valley bachelor pad together and find themselves swept up in a SoCal landslide. But even then, it's hard not to admire the strange elaborate detail of ... the film's disaster effects (!). Yep, this is a bedroom farce in which Cardinale at one point literally has to leap for her life while a lavish patio crumbles under her feet. You can't tell me that doesn't have something to do with something besides the general plot.
By the way: I'm reviewing the VHS version of this only because there's no DVD. Don't buy the tape, though, the compositions will of course get killed by the pan-and-scan.
The satirical gaze! After the rotund success of "Someone like it hot", this is perhaps, the most provocative satire about then lives and times of South California around a beautiful house that will become a particular hell. The cast is incredibly good.
Don't miss it!
Why did Draper never make another picture!?! Don't Make Waves is an enchanting oddity from the UK director Alexander Mackendrick who made THE SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS and many previous British comedies with Alec Guinness and the like. And underneath its hip, mod clothing DON'T MAKE WAVES shares with the Ealing comedies many similar views towards the world and its neurotic inhabitants. What everyone looks at first, of course, is the talent, including Claudia Cardinale in an amazing array of outfits and sunglasses and more eye makeup than she had ever worn before. Then there was the card that says "Introducing Sharon Tate," who takes your breath away with her glamor and her exotic looks. She is rather like Bo Derek in "10" even wearing the same kind of bikini in her entrance. With Robert Webber in both movies, 10 and Don't Make Waves, the similarity is very striking. Here Webber plays the husband cheating on Joanna Barnes with a Malibu mistress (Cardinale, very kittenish and charming, and confused about what she wants out of life). Tony Curtis is all right, but for some reason you could watch the whole movie and never find out who he is and why he came to California. You keep expecting him to reveal something about his past and he never does.
The Byrds' title song isn't one of their strongest numbers but the twangy guitars and patented harmonies announce right away, as soon as the MGM lion has roared, that we are in Southern California and everything is just a dream away.
The climactic landslide reminds me of a later pair of California films that both try to sum everything up, Altman's SHORT CUTS and Anderson's MAGNOLIA. You'll see why!
Most of all the movie belongs to David Draper, the bodybuilder who was Mr. Universe, as many of the other reviewers here on Amazon have noted. Draper plays Harry, willing to give up sex to get better "glutes." He is a very sweet, amazingly good actor whom Mackendrick gives many of the movie's best moments. David Draper's own website has a contemporary article about his appearance in DON'T MAKE WAVES, with a staged photo of himself and Cardinale looking as though they were playing Rusty and Myra in MYRA BRECKINRIDGE.
All in all, it's a wonderful picture with a great performance by David Draper.
Sharon didn't have enough lines! This is your typical empty-headed surfer dude/chick movie with Sharon Tate playing the part of a beach bunny who practically lives at the beach (along her other "job" - a skydiver). She looked absolutely fantastic (as always) but it was sad to see how few lines she had throughout the film (if she had two full pages of script, it would have been a miracle).
Tony Curtis played the part of a guy who was moving to California and winds up losing all his posessions in one fell swoop on his first day there and moves in with Claudia Cardinale's character (who lives high thanks to her sugar daddy). He winds up selling pools for a living.
Although the movie is cute, the plot isn't complicated at all. It seemed as though Curtis and Claudinale didn't have anything else to do at the time and Tate was contracted to perform here.
I enjoyed this but, when it comes to seeing Sharon's comedic ability shine, "The Wrecking Crew" is a whole lot better.
Wonderful Offbeat Beach Comedy What do you get when you mix a conniving Tony Curtis as a shady grifter with an accident on two legs like Claudia Cardinelli in a plot that involves beach front house along a gorgeous stretch of Malibu Beach? The kind of outrageous pandemonium that only a Hollywood screenwriter could imagine. Yet it is also an interesting character study of a number of individual minor characters, and it is this aspect of the film that makes its histrionics and dumb jokes somehow more palatable. Watch for the scenes with the late and beautiful Sharon Tate and big bodybuilder Dave Draper, who ignite on screen together in a sweet and almost innocent way in front of the camera. Big Dave never made a career in fims, but this movie shows he could act, and that he had a unique sort of charisma on-screen at that. I save this one for cold winter nights when my California dreaming is at a fever pitch. I always seem to enjoy it. I hope you will too.
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