AUTHOR! AUTHOR!: UNFORGETTABLE MOMENTS FROM MOVIE MUSICALS OF THE 1970s.

“I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey…” – The Criminologist (Charles Gray), The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

In his new book, ‘We Can Be Who We Are: Movie Musicals from the 1970s’, author Lee Gambin delves deep into the decade when the movie musical became, in the author’s words, “a diverse, free thinking wild animal.” Referencing his mammoth work and its commitment to both the sublime (the Bob Fosse classics, Cabaret and All That Jazz; pictured, below) and the ridiculous (Nancy Walker's Can't Stop the Music), SCREEN-SPACE thought we had asked the impossible of the Melbourne-based writer; “Of the 200-odd movies, docos and TV specials featured, can you pick your five most memorable moments?” His response (edited for space, regrettably) provided insight into the mind of a passionate film academic and a compelling teaser for his exhaustingly researched, wonderfully entertaining ode…

“Chava’s Ballet” from FIDDLER ON THE ROOF (1971)
Canadian director Norman Jewison was on a winning streak (The Cincinnati Kid, 1965; The Russians Are Coming The Russians Are Coming, 1966; In the Heat of the Night, 1967; The Thomas Crown Affair, 1968) when he helmed the adaptation one of the most successful stage musicals in history. With writer Joseph Stein and star Topol reprising roles that saw them become the toast of the theatrical world, Jewison delivered; the film won 3 Oscars, including the first of five for composer John Williams. Jewison double-downed on iconic 70’s musicals, following up Fiddler… with Jesus Christ Superstar.
Says Gambin, “Late in the mournful and downbeat second act, Golde (Norma Crane) tells Tevye (Topol) that Chava (Neva Small) has married a young Christian boy in an extreme act of tradition-breaking. Tevye, proclaiming angrily that Chava is “dead to us,” saddles himself to his cart (now without his lame horse, adding to the misery of the piece) and begins to plough the dead fields. The gorgeous fiddle, ringing out such a sorrowful tune, is outstanding. The staging of this dance, set in a dreamlike silhouette, is sheer movie magic.”

"It's Not Easy" from PETE'S DRAGON (1977)
Rarely spoken of amongst Disney’s classics, Pete’s Dragon nevertheless earned solid box-office numbers (including re-issues) and has grown in stature over time. A rare foray into the live-action/animation crossover genre, its turn-of-the-century setting and cast of ageing Hollywood greats (Mickey Rooney, Red Buttons, Shelley Winters, Jim Backus) seemed anachronistic for a film released in the late 70s, but its charm and innocence have endeared it to generations. Director Don Chaffey’s skill with non-human stars (Greyfriars Bobby, 1961; Ride a Wild Pony, 1975; The Magic of Lassie, 1978; C.H.O.M.P.S., 1979) and groundbreaking effects (Jason and The Argonauts, 1963; One Million Years BC, 1966) ensured the titular beast inspired real emotions; songstress Helen Reddy, as Nora, and cherubic tyke Sean Marshall, as Pete, warm hearts in Gambin’s favourite moment.
Says Gambin, “Here are two people who have found each other, and here in the lighthouse - a building used to lead ships to shore, reuniting the sea bound with the land - these two isolated characters come to understand that life and love are most certainly “not easy”. The lyrics are charming and work on a number of levels, as Nora sings “Now that you have him, hold him, treasure him from day to day”. While singing about this supposedly fabricated dragon, she is also lamenting her own personal angel, her absentee lover, a sailor believed to be missing at sea.”

"Jack and Jill" from OH! CALCUTTA! (1972)
(CONTENT WARNING – Sexually Graphic)
The off-Broadway play was a groundbreaker, tackling the counter-culture generation’s free-love vibe at the frontline of America’s theatrical traditions. Created by UK drama critic Kenneth Tynan, the full-frontal nudity and blunt, brutal satire made it the must-see stage event of the new decade. The film version, not so much. Critics savaged director Jacques Levy’s musical-revue take on sexual mores, despite contributions by such talented wordsmiths as Sam Shephard, Robert Benton, John Lennon and Jules Feiffer; Tynan disowned it. Tech issues didn’t help; Levy filmed a stage version on CCTV, before adapting the footage for theatrical distribution.
Says Gambin, ”The sexually frustrated Jack (George Welbes) declares, “I got my imagination and I got my cock.” Jill (Patricia Hawkins) tells Jack that she is scared of him because “he is a boy” and she worries about him using her for sex before deserting her. Jack gains Jill’s trust, persuading her to measure his penis – hence, participating in the game. He then inserts the ruler into her vagina. Startled, Jill slowly begins to enjoy the penetration. Jack gets violent, raping Jill, before resorting to moving her mouth and forcing a smile to stretch across her face. This is a final insult and a brilliant condensation of male sexual dominance, implying that she will enjoy what she is dealt. Jack’s misogyny is a slap in the face to the sexual liberties of the late sixties and early seventies, which is what the musical is singing – and stripping – about.“

The argument at the dinner table in SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER (1977)
One of the biggest ‘zeitgeist’ hits in Hollywood history, director John Badham’s urban drama/disco dazzler is remembered for John Travolta’s star-making dance floor moves, set to the Bee Gee’s bestselling music. But Gambin points to the film’s other great strength, namely it’s depiction of working class, inner city ethnicity and the inherent difficulties of the traditional patriarchal structure.
Says Gambin, “The dinner sequence features Tony draped in a table cloth to protect his clean silk shirt, like an ancient Roman; a leftover of Italian royalty stuck in a rut, living with his defeatist family. The film garnered some negative criticism regarding the stereotypical depiction of Italians, but director John Badham is not creating cartoons, rather concocting an acute dramatic portrayal of the distress that underlies percolating domestic violence. There is a subversive message here: this reincarnation of an Italian godlike superstar is not welcome in modern day Little Italy. When Tony enters the discos he frequents in and around Brooklyn, he becomes that god: he is in charge, carefree, highly sexual and the object of everyone’s admiration and affection.”

Staging and the use of Central Park in HAIR (1979)
The musical book from Gerome Ragni and James Rado filled out Milos Forman’s vast cinematic canvas in the acclaimed director’s bigscreen version of the iconic 60s story. Expectations were high - the stage play was the soundtrack to a generation of young people, whose social activism changed the course of American history; Forman had taken a four year break after sweeping the Oscars with One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. Critical response was mixed; Roger Ebert said the Czech director “brings life to the musical form in the same way that West Side Story did,” while Variety bemoaned, “The spirit and elan that captivated the Vietnam protest era are long gone.” Nearly 40 years since its release (and half a century since the events of its narrative), the debate continues as to Forman’s ambitious vision is masterpiece or folly.
Says Gambin, “Forman set the title song in a prison, highlighting freedom of expression. Long hair on men represents rebelliousness and a disregard for authority, whilst in jail (and in the military) short hair and crew cuts are mandatory, evidence of submission to dominant paradigm. The Be-In at Central Park is a beautiful piece, with the number Initials showcasing its dancers all in white and singing about the wonders of L.S.D. Forman sees the American context from an outsider’s perspective; he has a European eye, looking in and seeing suffering. Hair is an angry piece, but it also a funny, tender, moving piece of artistic expression. The film has its faults, but it is a successful translation of what is essentially a vaudevillian masterpiece, working a tribal element into this traditional theatrical style. Hair, a celebration and manifestation of Satanic panic, opened the same year as Rosemary’s Baby, evidence that Christianity was starting to be scrutinized and undervalued by the young."

We Can Be Who We Are is available on Amazon, via the publisher Bear Manor Media and via order where all good books are sold.
Read our interview with Lee Gambin about his last work, Murdered by Mother Nature: Exploring the Natural Horror Film.
Gambin is a regular contributor to Fangoria magazine; he is currently working on two new books - Blood Among The Stars: The Making of Carrie, and The Howling: Studies in The Horror Film. He is a key contributor to Melbourne's leading film appreciation group, Cinemaniacs.