THE GONG SHOW
MOVIE (1980)
D: Chuck Barris. Chuck Barris, Robin Altman,
Mabel King, Rip Taylor, Phil Hartman, Gene Gene the Dancing Machine, Taylor
Negron, Ed Marinaro, Murray Langston, Steve Garvey, Jamie Farr, Jaye P.
Morgan, Harvey Lembeck (final film). (no video yet, check for bootlegs)
RINGMASTER
(1998)
D: Neal Abramson. Jerry Springer, Michael
Jai White, William McNamara, Jaime Pressly, Molly Hagan, Michael Dudikoff,
Thea Vidale, M.C. Gainey. (Artisan)
It’s only natural for a TV actor to want to make a transition to the
big screen, if fact it’s become something of a natural attempt. While
most actors make the leap with a thud so resounding it causes them to turn
back to the tube, tail between legs (think David Caruso), some actually
land on their feet.
The same can’t
be said for TV personalities, however. For the most part, talk and
game show hosts have been relegated to tiny (if memorable) parts that mostly
play on their fame, Richard Dawson in The Running Man, Dick Cavett
in Beetlejuice or A Nightmare on Elm Street 3 or David Letterman
in Cabin Boy being three prime examples. Every once in a while,
someone known for being himself decided to play himself. For an hour
and a half.
In 1980, Chuck Barris decided to go all the way. The Gong Show
itself has absolutely none of the ingredients of a workable film, and amazingly,
writers Barris and Robert Downey (in whose Hugo Pool Barris appears)
Barris allowed as little sense as possible into his feature project.
Barris is Barris, Jamie Farr is Jamie Farr, Jaye P. Morgan is Jaye P. Morgan,
Murray Langston is the Unknown Comic, and Rip Taylor is a Matre d’(!?).
The “story” amounts to Barris wandering around, trying to quit the show
because he hates his fans and isn’t spending enough time with his girlfriend
(Altman). Phil Hartman shows up as a nut with a gun at the airport.
After several talks with his producer (and a seemingly infinite number
of clips from the show), Barris tries to leave town, but even there he’s
accosted by rabid fans intent on becoming the next big thing. Despite
his hatred for the show, he still feels the need to defend it when someone
points out how much it sucks. Eventually he works his way to the
Sahara desert, where the entire cast shows up and ends it all with a big
musical number.
It’s all crap, of course, and Barris is about as charming a lead character
as Myles “20 Dates” Berkowitz, but at least there’s a sense of randomness
to the proceedings. You’re never quite sure what’s going to happen,
and you sort of keep watching, fully aware that while it’s not going to
get any better, you at least won’t see what’s coming next. It’s a
piece of idiotic bawdiness (the film is filled with profanity, bad taste
and flashes of Jaye P. Morgan) from a time before political correctness
ruled.
Ringmaster is post-P.C., and while it tries so hard to be outrageous,
it’s all too dull to be the least bit offensive. Jerry Springer plays,
er, Jerry, the host of the Jerry Show, which seems remarkably like the
Jerry Springer Show with cheaper sets and less convincing actors.
Unlike The
Gong Show Movie, Ringmaster has a coherent plot, or at least
some attempt at one. Molly Hagen plays a trailer trash woman whose
sex-addicted daughter (Pressly) is sleeping with her husband (ex-action
star Dudikoff), so she goes across the trailer park and blows Pressly’s
boyfriend. Meanwhile, two black female best friends fight over Michael
Jai White. All seven of ‘em end up on the Jerry Show, where more
love triangles ensue.
It all continues along a rather predictable course, without a single
interesting plot twist or really outrageous moments to be had. William
McNamara shows up as one of Jerry’s workers, but, curiously, none of the
employees get involved with the romanticized plot. In fact, the assistants
are such bland characters that, as background to the forcibly energetic
leads, just blend in with the panelling.
This is all made worse by the director’s sluggish pacing and the fact
that the writer seems to want you to actually care about these people,
something only Hagen seems to have any ability to accomplish. They’re
white trash talk show freaks! Who cares?!
In a way it resembles a low-rent, weak-kneed version of Freeway,
too afraid of repercussions to be over-the-top and not witty enough to
be funny on its own. A scene where Jerry sings at a country Karaoke
bar just drives the point home—they didn’t even try to make a clever satire,
they simply didn’t care.
Artisan's VHS release of Ringmaster is so filled with previews
and a music video that the film doesn't begin until 20 minutes into the
tape.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|