Girl in Gold Boots (1969) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski)
A lonely drifter in a convertible stops
in a forgotten and deserted café on a back road to LA. He spies a
pretty girl dancing, unaware of his presence.
The set-up for a noir murder mystery, ala The Postman Always Rings Twice?
Well, sort of, except that this one is yet another work of genius from that noted cinema impresario, Ted V Mikels. In fact, this is actually one of his best movies, but is currently rated as the 29th worst movie of all time at IMDb, mainly because MST3000 picked this one for "the treatment" from Mike and the bots.
Fundamentally, this movie should have been a five minute short about a bunch of hepcats in 1959. Incredibly enough, it is supposed to take place in 1969, the same year that the film was actually made, but all the cars, clothing, and mannerisms come from an earlier era. Forget about that, however. The more important issue to ponder is how they managed to get a 90 minute movie out of a five minute script. And here is our lesson for today. The art of padding.
The guy talks the gal into accompanying him to LA. The drive to LA is pretty much in real time, accompanied by some groovy hipster music. So that knocked off about 15 minutes. At one point, a bungled edit has a twosome drinking coffee together, and they mysteriously become a threesome when another guy appears out of thin air.
Then they got to the beach and drove a dune buggy, to groovy hipster musical accompaniment, in a scene completely unrelated to the rest of the plot. That killed another 10 minutes.
Then they got to LA, and did that whole "new person amazed by the sights of LA" thing to kill another five minutes. This time, instead of hipster music, they used a groovy cowboy Christmas carol.
|At this point, I had to make a citizens' arrest, because we grade-b film connoisseurs all know that when you show the rubes coming to LA from the sticks, their POV shots have to include the Brown Derby, Graumann's Chinese, and the famous HOLLYWOOD sign. That is written in the United States Constitution. I mean it's not even an amendment, but it's right there in the original body of the document, right next to the paragraph that says you can't teach evolution to slaves. The framers of our great democracy were wise. So wise.||
|Then our heroes went to
the club where the hepcat's sister was a dancer. She was, in fact, the
Gina Gershon of the troupe, and was riding so high in showbiz that she
was dancing a spastic go-go number in a horror wax museum, with an
audience sometimes as large as 20 members. But we all know that her
rule of that lofty roost is not going to last long, because the chick
from the diner has more than just stars in her eyes. She has
"it", as everyone pointed out to her, and she will soon be
pushing Gershon down those stairs and taking over the lead in that
crazy game I like to call life. Although most people just call it
"the act". But anyway, call it what you will, you just know
that she's destined to take the gold boots away from the star. (Only
the star wears gold. The lesser dancers wear the much-maligned silver
boots as their badge of inferiority and shame)
Note that I rescinded my citizens' arrest at this point, because the movie did follow the b-movie convention which says that all the characters have to tell all the other characters how talented they are, because the caliber of the people working in these films is not capable of convincing us through their performances alone. The movie then shows about six or seven original groovy hipster musical numbers, some of which are repeated several times (like the title song, which was inexplicably ignored for the Best Song Oscar). That kills another 55 minutes or so.
The songs are the kind that are made up as you go along. As if you challenged a guy at a party to make up a song about girls in gold boots, and he'd strum the only chord he knows on a nearby guitar, and he'd sing, sing, sing:
You probably think I am kidding, Well, I did make that up, but I guarantee it is better than the actual song.
starry-eyed chick eventually finds out that the club owner is dealing drugs, and
the hepcat has become part of the racket. We find out it is May 2nd,
despite the fact that the city is gaily festooned with Christmas
Then, in the last minute or two, a bunch of the guys from the club attempt a daring drug heist from a police evidence seizure. It fails, but only the baddies get in trouble. Our starry-eyed heroine ends up dancing spastically on the beach, while her "Columbia-Berkeley" hippie boyfriend strums his groovy hipster guitar songs. Although they are alone on the beach, he is inexplicably accompanied by a harmonica, then is even more inexplicably able to continue playing the guitar chords after he sets the guitar aside to kiss his sweetie.
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