Chapter Two
ZAZ (Not ZAZ) Part Deux-and-a-Half!
By Brett Ballard-Beach
February 16, 2012
BoxOfficeProphets.com

*cue the Righteous Brothers*

Chapter Two proudly continues with the second and final installment in a look at sequels to films in which the writing/producing/directing team of Zucker Abrahams Zucker was involved. Last month’s column contemplated Airplane II: The Sequel and Amazon Women on the Moon (follow-ups in which they had no overt involvement.) This week, it’s a tale of the tape as two franchise sequels - in which ZAZ had some part - go head to head. It’s Frank Drebin vs. Topper Harley. Leslie Nielsen vs. Charlie Sheen; Priscilla Presley vs. Valeria Golino. Entertainer Robert Goulet vs. - um . . . pardon me while I check IMDb - perpetual Saddam Hussein impersonator Jerry Haleva. Co-writer Pat Proft vs. himself!

It’s Hot Shots! Part Deux vs. The Naked Gun 2 ½: The Smell of Fear. This week, folks, you’ll want to keep a scorecard, if for nothing else than to tally up the overabundance of exclamation points that is sure to give my spell check a fit.

But first a minor embarrassing addendum to the last column in which, five paragraphs in, I laid out a trail of synchronicity and connection among the creative parties involved that dazzled even me with its interwoven narrative web. (Take the time to re-read it. Now is the perfect opportunity.) As is often the case when I allow even a modicum of smugness to cross my brow, I missed a chance to dot my I’s and cross my T’s, which only became apparent to me when I watched the Police Squad! series last week, for only the second time in my life, and saw William Shatner - plain as day - as one of the ill-fated weekly “Special Guest Stars.” Not feeling so smug anymore.

To begin this week, here is a selected filmography of theatrical features directed by members of ZAZ, post-Ruthless People (their last collaborative directing credit in 1986):

Jim Abrahams - Big Business (1988); Welcome Home, Roxy Carmichael (1990); Hot Shots! (1991); Hot Shots! Part Deux (1993); Jane Austen’s Mafia (1998).

David Zucker - The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad (1988); The Naked Gun 2 ½: The Smell of Fear (1991); BASEketball (1998); An American Carol (2008); Scary Movie 3, 4, and 5 (2003, 2006, and scheduled for 2012, respectively)

Jerry Zucker - Ghost (1990); First Knight (1995); Rat Race (2001)

In all fairness, I don’t want to give the impression that this tells the whole tale. All three gentlemen have been involved in production, executive production, screenwriting, etc. consistently over the last 25 years. And it isn’t as if they haven’t been in collaboration with each other on projects, DVD commentary, and the like. But I think you’ll agree that there are some interesting patterns to be observed in the above and . . .

Holy fuck! Does that really say that Jerry Zucker, of ZAZ, directed Ghost? Oscar-winning Best Picture nominee featuring pixie-haired Demi Moore; "ditto"-uttering Patrick Swayze; tragic-whacky Whoopi Goldberg; sexy/disturbing Righteous Brothers-soundtracked pottery wheel shenanigans; and the most gruesome villain dispatching (death by sharded window) ever featured in an ostensibly gooey living world/afterworld romantic drama Ghost? That one?

Not to put too fine a point on it, but since the co-founder of this site recently revealed to me that this was news to him, I didn’t want to presume that there might not be others out there walking around with similar veils cast over their shared cinematic viewings. Jerry Zucker was not nominated for best director (that would have been perhaps too mind-blowing, although conversely more people might then have been aware of the fact two decades later) but I don’t bring that fact up to needle him. Hands down, he directed the most financially successful (and one of the most acclaimed) of the ZAZ team’s individual projects.

With that aside now, uh, aside, it’s on to this week’s smackdown of Abrahams vs. (as the teaser trailer for Smell of Fear so slyly identified him) “the brother of the guy who directed Ghost.” To begin with, some background on the short-lived series that would grant Nielsen his comic legacy.

Police Squad! - the inspiration for The Naked Gun films - may be the cult-iest of all cult shows. It lasted six episodes and was officially cancelled by ABC after airing four times in March 1982 (the remaining episodes aired that summer). Despite being “dumb” comedy in the Airplane! mode, it was so ridiculously out of place and ahead of its time back then that, on the eve of its 30th anniversary, it still seems like it would be a hard sell for a major network. (It would probably fit right in on Comedy Central.) I remember seeing the video boxes for Police Squad! Help Wanted and More Police Squad! - three episodes on each - in my small-town video store throughout my early childhood in the mid-to-late 1980s, and always resisting the urge to rent them. And when I eventually did, my blasé response suggests to me, in retrospect, I should have waited a while longer. To wit, it is at the age of 36 that I finally appreciate and/or understand the genius and/or stupidity of the phrase “police squad."

One of the keys to my enjoyment of the series this last time around was the utter cheapness of the visual whole, from the sets to the production design to the film stock. The show took a lot of its cues from straight-faced 1960s TV cop dramas, simply adding in absurdism, verbal humor, random sight gags, and recurring comic vignettes. (My favorite gag was one couple’s stroll through the Japanese gardens on her parents’ estate.)

Following up his career-reviving supporting role in Airplane!, Nielsen found the part which would become his trademark, although in true ironic fashion, he and ZAZ wouldn’t have a hit with the material for another six years. It may have been the best thing for the show to be yanked so early. Like British sitcoms that generally only last for two to three seasons of six to eight episodes and so strive to make every episode top-drawer, Police Squad had the chance to go out on top (so to speak) and leave a new generation of home entertainment consumers craving more.

All three Naked Gun films opened at number one their respective weeks in 1988, 1991, and 1994, with Smell of Fear nabbing the biggest debut (over $20 million) and final domestic gross ($87 million). Although David Zucker received sole directing credit for the first two Naked Gun films, ZAZ co-wrote the screenplay with Proft on the first film, and served as executive producers on all three Naked Gun films. (Peter Segal helmed Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult, about which all I can say is that 18 years on, it struck me as crass and cheap and unfunny and mercilessly endless despite running only 75 minutes sans credits, as I remembered it to be. And that’s even with allowing that the opening “Odessa Steps”/Untouchables parody elicited a few chuckles.)

I find it amusing that the first Naked Gun film bears the subtitle “From the Files of Police Squad!” because, when viewing the trilogy in close quarters with the television episodes, I feel it is actually Smell of Fear that comes closest to capturing the spirit of the show, and not simply through a recycling of the most memorable gags, or the use of former “Special Guest Star” Robert Goulet as villainous Quentin Hapsburg. In the first film, from its opening attack by Drebin on a cabal of evil world leaders, through its endless pain and destruction gags involving OJ Simpson’s character, to its musical montage set to Herman’s Hermits, there was a universe of funny, it just wasn’t the Police Squad! universe. Drebin comes off more as an Inspector Clouseau knockoff (clumsy, insensitive, completely lacking in self-awareness) than a deadpan satire of a TV cop. I can allow for the need to open the concept up in expanding it into a feature film, but it felt lacking in a certain je ne sais quoi.

No, strike that. Je can say quoi. Several of the signature moments of each episode have no counterpart in any of the movies and their absence is felt. An example: on Police Squad!, Drebin’s weekly encounters with informant/master shoe shiner Johnny are comic duets, with the kicker in each case being the appearance of a celebrity (Dick Clark, Tommy LaSorda) immediately after Drebin leaves, who has also come seeking an inside tip from Johnny. Character actor William Duell (who passed away only six weeks ago) imbues the throwaway part with comic conviction and gravity that belies his allotted one minute a week.

The humor stems simply from the furtive sideways glances of both individuals as money is exchanged and they “nervously” look around to make sure they are not being observed. The nature of the celebrity in question is important but is not the entire joke. ZAZ’ fearlessness in going for the obvious genre/generic joke (particularly in regards to verbal misunderstandings and clichés) is often as funny as their sight gags and more esoteric gags.

They also have no expiration date, as opposed to the single worst joke in Smell of Fear, the one involving Zsa Zsa Gabor that concludes the opening credits, contains - to my knowledge - the only use of the word “fuck” or its derivatives in any ZAZ film, and was already two years tired by the time June 1991 rolled around. A consultation of the Pointless Incidents in Pop Culture Encyclopedia was necessary. (It is, at least more tolerable than the “soap dropped in the prison shower” moments of The Final Insult.)

Most egregious, however, was the loss of actor Alan North from the show (Paramount apparently demanded a bigger name in the sidekick part, resulting in the switch out with Academy Award-winner George Kennedy). I am shamefully unfamiliar with North from anything else, even small roles in films I have seen once upon a time, but he comes off as an everyman Spencer Tracy, wearing his bulk and age as if his entire being were modeled after a rumpled raincoat. Watching him deadpan alongside Nielsen only helps bring out the latter’s comic timing, the true definition of a great supporting role.

I did not have the fondest comic memories of Smell of Fear (indeed, recalled it as being disconcertingly preachy and boring from my last encounter about 15 years ago), so it was to my surprise that I found it to be as briskly paced and entertaining as the first Naked Gun, and, as mentioned, more in line with the deflating of cop show conventions in which Police Squad engaged than its predecessor. Drebin is less Clouseau and simply dense, and is even allowed to be the butt of the jokes on more occasions (re: the unexpected slap in the face he receives in the restaurant scene).

Even with the added emphasis on political satire that marks both films (and which I have always felt were the least successful targets of ZAZ’s potshots) Smell of Fear contains some clever “dumb” moments - the defusing of the bomb, the reaction of the politicos to being told “someone in the room is about to be arrested” - but the parody of Ghost’s most romantic scene is the film’s comic coup de grace. It’s such a faithful recreation of a pop moment (perhaps Jerry Z. had a hand in helping?) that seeing a shirtless Nielsen is almost enough comedy in and of itself. But the payoff, which may be the most astute and clever visual metaphor ever for a hand job, shows David Zucker and Proft’s willingness to go the extra mile and make the obvious (and funny) punch line.

Barely a month after Smell of Fear hit theaters , Abrahams and Proft (over at 20th Century Fox) came up with their own spoof series launcher: Hot Shots! A parody of the military movie genre (and Top Gun in particular), it also debuted at number one, spent three additional weekends there and did well enough to secure a sequel that arrived just prior to Memorial Day weekend 1993. The performance of Hot Shots! Part Deux suggests that, unlike the further adventures of Frank Drebin, not as many were clamoring to follow Topper Harley back into action. Deux opened to less than Hot Shots!, finished behind the Sharon Stone sex (would-be) thriller Sliver and faded from sight quickly, taking in barely half of what the first film did.

While using the same characters (or at least their names) and actors, Abrahams and Proft also attempted to switch up the game, focusing their comic lasers on the Rambo series and other ridiculously violent shoot-em-ups, which are so inherently overblown that they can often seem like parodies of themselves, and not the easiest targets for ridicule. Harley is once again a loner shielding himself from the outside world, pulled back into a top secret mission at his government’s behest, and Lloyd Bridges, who played screwy Navy admiral “Tug” Benson in the first film, has upgraded to incumbent U.S. president (as well as to second billing behind Sheen), and in a fine bit of comic alchemy appears to be channeling Ford, Carter, Reagan, and Bush 41 simultaneously. His flighty first scene in The Oval Office is his best moment.

However, when it comes to the finale, in which Benson does solo battle with Hussein himself, it becomes clear that a little of the character goes a long way and it isn’t particularly amusing to see a mano y mano between them just because it’s Lloyd Bridges and he’s, you know, old. Harley, meanwhile, is tasked with rescuing a political prisoner played by Rowan Atkinson who shows up briefly in the final 15 minutes and is given very little chance to be funny. And yet, Part Deux moves along briskly over most of its hour-and-a-half running time finding laughs in its opening sequence portraying Saddam as a domestic type - my exception to the political humor being less funny - before unexpectedly segueing into a Scarface lampoon; mining cheap and funny laughs from the effects of an attractive female on the monks at the monastery where Topper is living; and in ridiculing a no holds barred bare-knuckle brawl that Topper takes to earn cash on the side.

If Sheen and Bridges deliver steady but never overpowering laughs, then the supporting cast is unexpectedly rich in comic ability. Miguel Ferrer puts a comic spin on his usual intense machismo and sarcasm, Golino validates the idea that an attractive individual saying and doing ridiculous things may be funnier than a person of average looks doing so and Richard Crenna pretty much plays the same character he did in the first three Rambo movies, proving that sometimes comedy is all about the context.



Similar to my revisionist thoughts on Smell of Fear, Part Deux entertained me more than I expected when immediately contrasted with the first film, which felt shockingly as if a lot of it was being played straight and suffered from performances and characters from actors such as Jon Cryer, Bill Irwin, Kristy Swanson that never seemed to find their true comic potential. But something must also be said about my favorite scene in the film (it occurs almost precisely halfway in), which is also my favorite moment in any ZAZ-related project. I hadn’t seen it in nearly two decades, but the mere flicker of it in my thoughts always makes me smile. Indeed, even anticipating it while watching it, I still laughed out loud when it unfolded.

I can’t do it justice in breaking it down to a detailed description and a punch line. It starts with a voiceover by Sheen that is suddenly overtaken by a second narration, and then… an exchanged glance, recognition, smiles, and the same five words spoken in unison. There is a harmony in it. The reverse shot cuts are timed just right, and I’ll be damned if I can explain it any better than to say that it’s like a ray of sunshine fanning out over my psyche.

The victor: As wonderful as that moment is, Smell of Fear claims the decision this week. By a nose, of course.

Next time: Two of the most popular, most beloved American romantic tales of the early 1970s (Love Story, Summer of '42) inspired two of the least remembered romantic sequels of the mid-1970s. Sight previously unseen, I delve into Oliver’s Story and Class of '44 in two weeks.