Popeye (1980)
Directed by Robert Altman
Paramount, 114 minutes, PG
★★
Have you ever viewed an awful film that you continued to watch simply because a few of the actors are so good that you didn’t want to abandon them to their fate? Few American directors have blown so hot and cold in their role as Robert Altman; in Popeye he was so cold that all the remaining copies of the film could be sent into orbit to cure global warming. And yet…
…it's as if Robin Williams was born to play squint-eyed, pronucskiation-challenged Popeye, and no actress on earth could have played Olive Oyl with the knock-kneed, permanently flustered, clumsiness aplomb as Shelley Duvall. Ray Walston was also brilliant as Poopdeck Pappy and a few others such as Paul Dooley (Wimpy), Paul L. Smith (Bluto) and Linda Hunt (Mrs. Oxheart) turned in solid performances.
That’s the good news. The bad? Pretty much everything else. Popeye was excoriated when it came out in 1980 and there’s no reason to assert that it was misunderstood. Granted it’s hard to make a cartoon into a flesh-and-blood musical comedy, though it is fair to ask who thought it was a good idea to try. The job was handed to Harry Nilsson, who was highly respected in his day. Alas, Harry made a hash of it with numbers too terrible to be music, and too fluffy to be camp. Even more baffling, the talented Jules Feiffer wrote the script. I’d like to believe that he was mortally ill at the time, but he didn’t pass away until January of 2025, so that won’t work. Maybe they made him live in the set of Sweethaven while writing it and Jules rushed the assignment as he could only take so much living in a landfill. Actually, Sweethaven is kind of interesting in a grungy sort of way. It reminded me somewhat of Esgaroth/Lake-view in The Hobbit. So maybe the wicked bad score put me in too surly a mood to appreciate Sweethaven in the moment.
The narrative, such as it is, finds Popeye rowing his dinghy in high seas and tying up in Sweethaven. He’s in search of his Pappy, but no sooner comes ashore than he is hit up by the local Taxman who collects all manner of tariffs on behalf of the mysterious Commodore. (Take a guess who he is.) If the Commodore needs muscle to collect his graft, he sends his flunky Captain Bluto, who is allegedly affianced to Olive Oyl. Her justification for an impending wedding to the bully is, “he’s large.”(Take that however you wish!) Paul Smith's Bluto is indeed a large guy. He is also, as Popeye would say, muskully. Popeye, being a stranger, finds all doors closed to him and only finds lodging at the Oyls because of a misunderstanding. Popeye does get to show off the power of his muskully rotating forearms by punching out a gaggle of local jerks who make fun of him and push him around.
If you’ve ever read a Popeye comic book by his creator E. C. Segar, you know that Olive will soon find Popeye preferable to Bluto. Popeye and Olive are also enamored of Swee’Pea who is left in a basket by his “mudder” who can’t afford to keep him. Bluto takes a temper tantrum when Olive is a no-show for their “engagement” party and destroys much of the Oyl’s house. Later he beats the snot out of Popeye when he sees Olive and Popeye with Swee’Pea. Apparently Bluto believes in both immaculate conception and instantaneous birth. Hey, it’s a no sex in comic books, please, situation.
Spinach is central to the plot –such as it is– but in about the only twist there is, Popeye initially hates spinach. From there it degenerates into a fanciful promise of treasure, Popeye’s discovery of his Pappy, a Swee'Pea kidnapping, a boat race rescue attempt around Scab Island, an octopus that looks like one of those blowup advertising come-ons, and a spinach-fueled resolution.
Full confession: I devoured more Popeye comics in my wasted youth than Joey Chestnut has eaten hotdogs. That said, Popeye the movie is capital D Dumb. Were it not for Williams and Duvall, there would be no reason to see it. But if you’re really bored some night, get a free stream from Kanopy to see how perfect casting raises a terrible movie from bilge water to watchable lower case putrid.
Rob Weir
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