Monkees vs. Macheen: Head (1968)

“Have It Cleaned and Burned.”

Head was released November 6, 1968, directed by Bob Rafelson, and written by Rafelson and Jack Nicholson. That’s right, Jack freakin’ Nicholson wrote Head. Apparently Nicholson was a huge fan of the film when it was finished. Hey, it’s good to be proud of your work.

According to the book, Monkeemania by Glen A. Baker, Columbia Pictures gave Raybert a $750,000 budget, expecting a teen exploitation film, something very similar to the weekly show. Apparently, this was not what Rafelson or the Monkees had in mind. Rafelson thought he’d never have another chance to direct, so he wanted to emulate every type of Hollywood movie all at once, make a “movie about movies” and expose the showbiz process. The Monkees wanted to direct the film themselves, but Rafelson, Schneider, and Nicholson were against this idea. Instead, they got creative input, resulting in a brainstorming session (on acid) where they put every crazy idea they had for the movie on a tape recorder. Nicholson organized the tapes into a script.

I was confused and disappointed with this movie when I first saw it; if you’re a fan of the show, it’s not the film you’re expecting. I always thought Head could have been a more “adult version” of The Monkees (“bigger, better, longer, and uncut”) and still tackled the same themes: the war protest, killing their pop star image, the plastic and manufactured products of Hollywood, the Media. Perhaps a still subversive but tighter, wittier film with a plot, related to the show but using the more permissive medium of film. On the other hand, if Head had featured a fictional band that was created just for the purposes of this movie, or featured another real-life band of the time, I would have no expectations of what the humor, characters, and story should be like, and I would probably have liked the movie on first viewing. I like weird, surreal, and subversive and I like the themes that Head gets into. There are a lot of funny moments and moments to appreciate in Head.

I. Opening Ceremony

Music: “The Porpoise Song” by Gerry Goffin/Carole King.

The Monkees interrupt an opening ceremony for a bridge, running for their lives through the red ribbon. Micky jumps into the water to escape it all and swims around with some mermaids. The film transitions from Micky underwater to Micky making out with a woman back at the Monkees’ house. She kisses each Monkee in turn. Two lines explain everything. Mike: “Well?” Woman (making a so-so gesture): “Even.” Multiple Monkees have made out with the same girl before, like in “Hillbilly Honeymoon,” but on film, with the slow lingering shots, it feels so much sleazier. Thanks, Bob.

Music: “Ditty Diego-War Chant” by Jack Nicholson/Robert Rafelson.

As the Monkees chant, the screen turns into a multiple televisions, showing various scenes yet to come. The lyrics pretty much spell it all out for the audience:

Hey, hey, we are the Monkees
You know we love to please
A manufactured image
With no philosophies

We hope you like our story
Although there isn’t one
That is to say, there’s many
That way there is more fun…

II. War

Music: “Circle Sky” by Michael Nesmith.

All the televisions fill with an iconic image from the Vietnam war (General Ngoc Loan executing Viet Cong suspect Nguyen Van Lem.) A girl screams but not in horror; she’s at a rock concert with other screaming fans. The next scenes juxtapose images of war, explosions, etc. with scenes of the Monkees performing and the hysterical reactions of the crowd. There’s also a sketch with the Monkees as soldiers, the highpoint of which is Peter running for ammo and getting photographed for the cover of Life magazine. The horrors of war become a media spectacle; Vietnam was known as the first televised war and those images made the war incredibly controversial. Since I’m putting this out on Election Day, and we’re living in such politically charged times, I’ll mention that when Head was released, 50 years ago, it was one day after the election of President Nixon. It was a volatile election year, with the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr, Robert F. Kennedy, and widespread opposition to the Vietnam War.

At the concert, girls rush on stage to tear the Monkees apart. You could replace the Monkees with any hugely popular rock band and the image would still work. There are terrible things, war and tragedy, but all that matters is the Monkees are on stage (or the Stones or Beatles etc.).Once the girls start ripping them to pieces, they are revealed to be mannequins, referring to the notion of them as “manufactured.”

Continuing the television theme, an unseen person flips through the channels of various black and white television and film clips . (the Oliver Stone movie, Natural Born Killers certainly owes a huge debt to Head.)The viewer settles on a scene of Micky stranded in the desert. Dying of thirst, he finds a Coca-Cola machine. Finding it empty, he proceeds to beat the crap out of it. In this scene, look out for William Bagdad (“Everywhere a Sheik, Sheik” ) and Vito Scotti (“The Case of the Missing Monkee”) as an Italian soldier who surrenders his tank and weapon to Micky.

One of the most satisfying moments in Head is Micky blowing up the Coke machine with the tank. With great anti-establishment spirit, he takes down an iconic American corporation. It’s also the fantasy of seeing someone get back at a frustrating situation. The Monkees are caught up in a corporate machine throughout Head; this is one of the rare scenes where they get revenge.

Music: “Can You Dig It?” by Peter Tork.

III. Hollywood

The Monkees loved to satirize, parody, and spoof every type of Hollywood movie genre. Head pretty much rips down the fourth wall, exposing the fakeness of movies with more anger than humor. Among the different genres mocked here are: War, Western, Live Action Disney, Horror, gangster films, etc. In the middle of shooting a Western scene, Micky calls bullshit on everything and walks off set, Mike following behind. They find Davy in the midst of shooting some Disney-type film, and take him along. The Monkees spend most of the rest of film walking in and out of various sets and onto the back lot of Columbia studios. Terri Garr, Annette Funicello, and Tim Carey are among the guest stars in these scenes.

Mike, Micky, and Davy end up in the studio commissary. The other patrons rush out, muttering they can’t eat with them around, long hair, etc. I read somewhere that when the young actors were shooting the first season of the TV show, patrons of the Columbia studio cafeteria didn’t like having them around because of their long hair. Once everyone else is gone, the throaty-voiced waitress sarcastically calls the Monkees “God’s gift to the eight-year-olds.”

Most of the other characters in Head seem to hate the Monkees, including the Monkees themselves. The Huffington Post article about the film notes that the Monkees were tired of the show, tired of being a teen idol band, and wanted to be taken seriously. Writing, producing, and playing all the instruments on Headquarters didn’t get the job done. Head was their way of breaking with their own image. Rafelson and Schneider were tired of the Monkees as well. This was Raybert’s way of destroying their creation.

The waitress smacks Davy, transitioning into the boxing scenes, in which Davy gets the crap beat out of him by (real-life boxer) Sonny Liston. Mike and Micky have bet money based on him throwing the match and have an argument about who’s “the dummy.” This leads to Micky freaking out and punching everyone, including cops and the blonde moll-type (real-life stripper Carole Doda). Peter appears out of nowhere and meta comments on the “Peter” character he played on the weekly show:

This boxing scene segues into Peter back in the commissary, where he punches out the waitress (who is revealed, to no one’s surprise, to be played by a man.) The filming breaks and we get “behind-the-scenes” of Peter worrying about his “image” to the director Rafelson (breaking the fourth wall and acting as himself). Jack Nicholson is in the background of the scene (as is Dennis Hopper briefly).

Music “As We Go Along” by Goffin/King.

Monkees wander various landscapes, a beach, a flower garden, reminiscent of “Monkees on Tour”/”Monkees in Paris,” also directed by Rafelson. This segues into the Monkees on a factory tour. We never find out what the factory makes. Maybe the Monkees themselves since they are “manufactured” per the lyrics. Prescient line from the tour guide, as things become more automated and humans do less and less for themselves, and as people consume more television and other types of media.

“A new world, whose only preoccupation will be how to amuse itself. The tragedy of your times, my young friends, is you may get exactly what you want.”

IV. The Black Box

The Monkees are shut into a dark room and forced to perform as Victor Mature’s dandruff for a television commercial. From this point onward in Head the Monkees are, with a few exceptions, passively moved from one situation to another by the editing. They’re sucked into a vacuum where they find giant tacks, buttons, a needle and a joint. Davy’s not with them, so they make a human ladder to crawl back up and look for him. The dialogue here would almost have fit in on the show.

Micky: Somebody has to be on the bottom.
Mike: Well, I’m the tallest and the strongest.
Micky: So you’re the bottom.
Mike: I—oh, well…
Peter: Everybody’s where they wanna be.
Micky: That was a particularly inept thing to say, Peter, considering that we are in a vacuum cleaner.

Music: “Daddy’s Song” by Harry Nilsson.

Davy performs a song and dance number with choreographer Toni Basil (“Hey Mickey!”). In this fantastic scene, the dancing, the song, the editing with the two different backgrounds and costume changes; it’s perfect for him. Also, it’s hard not to tear up when he says “The years have passed and so have I,” given his death in 2012. This scene is an example of how intricate the editing in this film is (Michael Pozen and Monte Hellman). Throughout Head, each crazy sketch leads brilliantly into the next, though there’s no storyline to support the transitions. It’s a bit like the Monty Python film, And Now For Something Completely Different.

Davy wanders back out onto the lot where he runs into The Critic, who is leading a cow. (Frank Zappa, who also appeared in “The Monkees Blow Their Minds.”)

The Critic: “That song was pretty white.”
Davy: “Well, so am I, what can I tell ya?”

On the back studio lot, Mike, Micky, and Peter slowly emerge from a large black box and get hassled by a cop. They find themselves repeatedly back in this box throughout the rest of the film. Again, per Monkeemania, during the shooting of The Monkees there was an actual “black box” lounge area they were “kept” at times when they weren’t needed on set. This was the producers answer to the problems caused when the Columbia/Screen Gems executives didn’t like seeing the “long-haired” youths wandering around on the back lot.

After Davy and a corp of soldiers march the cop away, Davy excuses himself to use the bathroom. There are quite a few scenes in the bathroom, apparently a huge deal because films/television at that time pretended bathrooms didn’t exist. Cleverly edited sequence where Davy’s in a horror movie, and Micky’s in a jungle picture where the natives chain him to the wall along with Mike and Peter. The wall revolves and they’re back in the white-tiled bathroom with their hands up (where they would’ve been chained from the previous scene.) The cop hassles them some more.

V. The Real vs. The Imagined

The next sequence is called “The Cop’s Dream,” but would have made more sense if it was Mike’s dream. Mike’s nap gets disrupted by the door buzzer. Peter finally answers it but Mike can’t go back to sleep because first Peter, then Davy and Micky are all missing. He wanders around the Monkees house in his pajamas, and it’s cut to look like a horror film with creepy music and effects. He opens a creaky door and finds three robed men/Monkees who sing happy birthday to him. The whole scene bursts into a wild birthday party set to music. Everyone but Mike is dancing.

Music: “Do I have to do this all over again” (Peter Tork)

The song title is an excellent question. After all, the end of the film is the same as the beginning, I’m guessing these Monkees personas do this same thing every single day. Get chased around back lots, trapped in the black box, try to drown themselves, get taken back to the studio and repeat.

After the song, Mike yells at the crowd that he hates surprises “and the same thing goes for Christmas.” This makes the crowd gasp dramatically. (Ha!) Everyone starts laughing, assuming Mike is joking. Lord High n’ Low enters rolling in a wheelchair. He stands up, then staggers around and collapses, slurring his words. The Monkees start laughing hysterically.

They’ve been inserted into a Western where High n’ Low fires a rifle and tells them not to make fun of cripples. There’s now a montage of b/w interviews with various people explaining why it’s wrong to laugh at others and the possible punishments you should get for doing so. The Monkees wake up in a jail as a voice whispers “guilty.” This dissolves into a Yogi in a sauna who lectures about beliefs and conditioning. He speaks about the real vs. vividly imagined experiences to his student, Peter.

In the studio backlot, Mike and Micky are in a crowd, looking up at a woman who’s about to jump off a building and they make bets on whether she’ll go through with it. The Monkees are very unappealing in this movie, compared to their television show fictional personalities. On The Monkees, the characters were goofy and cowardly but friendly and always willing to help the underdogs. They had a strong friendship and they were also agents of chaos. They fought back. They caused trouble. The Monkees in Head on the other hand are tools; unlikable because they never try very hard to get out of this circle of hell. They have no charm, they aren’t engaging, they’re mostly humorless, they have no empathy for each other or other characters in the film. I don’t care about these characters as they continue to get destroyed by the ridiculous circumstances. It’s another way Head kills off the Monkees image.

The four of them end up back in the black box. Mike is impatient, angry with Peter who he thinks knows the way out. Peter takes charge and relays his conversation with “The Master.” He makes the point that the brain is almost incapable of telling difference between the “real and the vividly imagined.” Sound, film, radio, etc. He paraphrases the yogi’s speech, ending by saying he’s knows nothing.

Maybe this is obvious, but I like the theory that this is all happening in the Monkees minds or “heads” if you will; the ridiculous situations, constantly being trapped in their image as a bubblegum, teeny-bop band. Throughout the film, they never do escape.

The idea that the brain can’t tell the difference between the imagination and the reality is the point because the Monkees played characters that were “fictionalized” versions of themselves. They had their real names, etc. The actors in the show went on tour as a real band. They played live and made records outside the scope of the television show. Not to mention on the show episodes there were those frequent flips between the reality of the plot and the Monkees shared fantasies.

Then, of course, there is the audience. We all like to think we know the difference between fantasy and reality but do we always? I’m not talking fake news here, I’m talking about the things we convince ourselves of everyday, and how sometimes memories of books or movies get mixed up with memories of real life. We have to walk a very careful line with the amount of stuff that gets dumped into our brain constantly. Analyze it, sort it out.

VI. Finale

Davy gets angry that Peter has no real solution so he becomes an action hero, punches and breaks out of the box. The other three follow suit and they all fight the factory workers. Lee Kolima (“The Spy Who Came in from the Cool,” “The Devil and Peter Tork”) plays a security guard in this scene. The Monkees burst through the painted wall into a Western scene. Lord High n’ Low and his posse threaten the Monkees, but with a gift from the editors, Davy suddenly has that often used cannon and blasts them away. (Peter: “Where’d he get the cannon?” Heh.)

Speaking of fighting, the Monkees themselves staged one more fight at the start of the production of Head. On the first day of Head, Micky, Mike, and Davy didn’t show up for filming. They were protesting that they wouldn’t get more money for the film as their contracts hadn’t been renewed. They were appeased with $1,000 a piece and the production resumed.

A giant Victor Mature appears in the sky like a b-movie monster, and the Monkees end up back in the box again. A helicopter drops it off in the desert, where it breaks open. The Monkees face a line of extras from the film who chase them until Giant Victor hits the Monkees with a golf club and whacks them back into the back lot. There’s more chasing, wacky clips, a silent movie/Keystone Cop bit where they’re on the conveyor belt, Vietnam clips paired with TV commercials. The Monkees try to escape in a yellow jeep but Victor kicks it over. Genius editing.

The Monkees wind up back at the bridge opening ceremony, chased by the supporting cast. This time they all jump off the bridge and into the water. “The Porpoise Song” re-plays for their symbolic suicide as they sink. Ultimately, they end up trapped in the black box which is now a fish tank, symbolic of their celebrity lives in front of the Media. Victor Mature, the personification of the forces acting on the Monkees, sits in a director’s chair on the back of a truck that drives the tank away. Presumably back to the studio to “do this all over again.” Credits.

Rafelson did of course go on to do other films. Head was just the beginning of “new Hollywood.” He went on to produce Easy Rider, and the success of that film gave birth to BBS Productions. He directed Five Easy Pieces (for which both he and Nicholson were nominated for Oscars), Stay Hungry, and The Postman Always Rings Twice. He produced those films as well as Easy Rider, and The Last Picture Show. Nicholson went on to be, well you know, Jack Nicholson.

Though Rafelson used his Monkees money to finance his films, Head was a flop at the time; the film made less than $20,000 at the box office. It does seem like no one was especially interested in the film being popular, considering the weird trailer/ad campaign created by (Andy Warhol Factory) producer John Brockman. The ads featured his “head,” though he’s only actually in the film for a few seconds during a clip montage. It would be hard to tell this had anything to do with The Monkees. None of their hit songs were used in the film, it had all original music.

I can see why they had trouble gaining an audience at first. For a Monkees fan the non-commercial nature of the film might not be so appealing. An avant-garde film buff might not have been into the Monkees. Since the theatrical release however, it seems the film has achieved cult status. I can certainly see it working well as a cult film; it fits in with the Midnight Movie set. It took me a few viewings to get into it, but the film is funny; a different kind of humor from the series, but I get a few chuckles out of it for sure.

Thanks again to everyone who’s been reading this and all the recaps of the show!

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examined the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Advertisements

Monkees vs. Macheen: “The Frodis Caper” a.k.a. “Mijacogeo”

“I’m as puzzled as the Oyster.”

Here we are at the last episode of the series and the end of these regularly scheduled recaps. I’m full of conflicting emotions because I don’t want this to end, yet I’m glad the series went out with this bizarre and fun episode. “The Frodis Caper” a.k.a. “Mijacogeo” aired for the first time on March 25, 1968 and was directed by Micky Dolenz, written by Micky along with Jon C. Andersen on the story, and Dave Evans on the teleplay. Evans wrote eight other Monkees episodes, mostly in the first season. Andersen penned four that were filmed in season two. The subtitle, “Mijacogeo,” was made up from the first couple of letters of each of the Dolenz family member names, “mi” for Micky, “ja” for his mother Janelle, “co” for his sister Coco, and “geo” for his father George. It was also the name of the Dolenz family childhood dog.

The episode begins with a montage edit of tight shots on the various parts of a Rube Goldberg-style alarm clock, activated by the heat of the rising sun. This culminates in a record player needle dropping onto “Good Morning Good Morning” by The Beatles. It was unheard of to have songs by popular recording artists on television shows in the United States at the time, let alone a band as big as The Beatles. Of course we know the Monkees had hung out a bit with The Beatles the previous summer and were present for some of the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band sessions.

Mike, Davy, and Micky wake up and notice that Peter is not in his bed. Flash-cuts to the empty bed as the others wander around calling for him. They agree to search the premises and meet back there at 0800 hours (That would be a long time to search because their individual alarm clocks read 6 a.m.) There’s a double edit from two different angles as Mike says “Okay guys, let’s go” and Micky and Davy move to leave but then rewind back to Mike. The editing freezes the action and there are screen captions that read FREEZE FRAME.

In less than one minute of episode, there were already tons of editing tricks drawing attention to the fact that it’s a filmed television show. These flash-cuts, captions, close-up shots, unusual angles, montage edits, and fourth-wall-breaking moments permeate the entire episode. Of course some of these techniques were used by the directors/editors throughout the series; Dolenz threw them in all in at once. He does get credit for one fully original touch. In the DVD commentary for this episode, he mentioned that he chose to use a two-camera setup to shoot “Frodis Caper” and points out that this was never done before on sitcoms. On the commentary, Dolenz indicated that it made the shooting go faster and gave the episode its unique look. Even after this, a two-camera setup wasn’t done very often, if at all, and I can’t think of an example offhand. In other words, after all these years, this episode still really stands out.

My husband, a casual Monkees fan at best, loves this episode and even showed it to his film-making partner to illustrate both the directing/editing techniques as well as the surreal humor. Dolenz made directing into a secondary career. Starting in the late ’70s and early ’80s, he directed for television in the U.K., notably a couple of comedy sci-fi kids shows, Metal Mickey, and Luna. He also directed episodes of Boy Meets World, Television Parts (Michael Nesmith’s Elephant Parts spin-off TV movie), and “The Box,” a short film starring Terry Jones and Michael Palin of Monty Python.

The Monkees look around downstairs for Peter, ignoring the fact that he is sitting there in plain sight. While Mike and Micky screw around, performing a “Lost and Found” sketch with flash-cuts to Peter’s opening title picture, Davy finds a weird “statue.” Mike and Micky quickly figure out that the statue is indeed Peter. He’s been hypnotized by the television, which is showing a crudely animated eye making a pulsing sound. The other three somehow manage to shut off the television before it hypnotizes all of them.

After the opening titles, the Monkees (without Peter) scramble around the neighborhood to see who else was affected. Mike and Micky find the whole Parker family mesmerized by the television screen. This appears to be commentary from Micky Dolenz and the other writers regarding television and its ability to brainwash the masses. (And once again, The Monkees was way ahead of its time. This is frighteningly relevant today.) There’s a great comment from Micky Dolenz in this article, a list of “10 Interesting Facts about The Monkees TV Show.” “Most TV is like dope,” Micky Dolenz told Seventeen magazine in 1967, “It’s just there to put people into a state where they’ll believe anything anybody says— like the announcer of the six o’clock news. Our show gives you the idea of being an individual. That’s what we represent to the kids: an effort to be an individual, an attempt to find your own personality.” [“I’ve always found it fascinating that you can identify the problem while being part of the problem.” – Editor’s Note] Mocking the media/television and its effects on society and culture was an overall theme of The Monkees, such as with “Captain Crocodile,” “Monkees a la Mode,” and “I Was a 99-lb Weakling” (to name a few).

Davy, Mike, and Micky rush over to the television station KXIW (the same television station call letters from “Some Like it Lukewarm”), where they find the stagehand hypnotized by the television eye. Micky wonders, “What kind of a warped, maniacal mind could be plotting such a conspiracy?” Cut to Rip Taylor as Wizard Glick, shrieking, “It’s working!” and laughing evilly. The Monkees apparently saw that scene because they cut back to Micky who tells the audience, “Oh, that kind of a warped mind.”

Our heroes decide that this is a job for Monkeemen (cue the Monkeemen theme). Monkees run to a phone booth to change into their superhero costumes. Bad luck, there’s a sign in the phone booth informing them that Federal law prohibits the use of phone booths for “the purpose of changing into or out of secret identities.” They see a telephone company truck and there’s a hilarious moment of Monkee-panic, “it’s the heat!” They squeeze out of the phone booth, Three Stooges-style. This episode has a nice combo of surreal and physical humor.

Next is a montage edit of Glick revealing his “maniacally warped plan” to take over the world with the Frodis. Between close shots of his mouth, there are a series of weird flash-cuts as he talks, such as: “…that’ll release the incredible power of the Frodis (shot of Frodis eye), “…with the aid of my villainous henchmen” (shot of the four henchmen who each have a tiny handheld television), “…I can control the minds of millions!” (shot of Hitler. Sieg heil!).

A henchman alerts Glick to the fact that the “Monkeemen Monitor” is activated for the first time in five years. This gives us an indication of how long Monkeemen have been together, and that this is not Glick’s first time dealing with them. In response, Glick orders the release of the two-headed org.

The Org lumbers after the three panicking Monkees. They look for help from the Monkeeman Manual, which Micky pulls (possibly a copy of the script) out of his pants. First we’ve heard of this manual. They follow the ridiculous instructions: “To dispose of a two-headed org, jump up and down three times, roll a head of cabbage, and giggle.” But where were they keeping the cabbage? When the org falls, the Monkees sing “Ding dong, the wicked org is dead!” Wizard Glick is so very much a parody of the “Wicked Witch of the West” character from The Wizard of Oz. Rip Taylor looked like he was having a fabulous time. (“Could ya die?”)

This episode in particular and The Monkees series in general, frequently had a Sid and Marty Krofft psychedelic kids’ show vibe. The Krofft Supershow, Space Nuts, and Dr. Shrinker are a few of the ones I’m old enough to remember. The Aquabats! Super Show, which I watched with my daughter from 2012-2014, was clearly inspired by Krofft shows and The Monkees.

Next, Glick sends out the TV repairmen. Both the Org and the repairman are released by comically-labeled levers. They rush out with their televisions displaying the eye and try to catch the Monkees off guard. Hilariously, one of the repairmen hypnotizes himself when he checks to make sure his TV is working. It seems Glick would’ve failed again, except that Mike suddenly says “You know what? It’s seven thirty, six thirty central time. It’s time for The Monkees. I wonder if anybody around here’s got a television set.” Fourth-wall-breaking and it moves the plot along. Nice. Repairmen come from everywhere to oblige him.

The Monkees are tied to chairs, but they are not hypnotized, which is inconsistent. Micky decides to use mental telepathy to contact Peter to come get them out. Using a chant he got, not as Mike guesses, “while studying transcendental meditation under an Indian mystic,” but rather that came free with a cereal box top. Hilarious double joke at the expense of their sponsor, Kelloggs, and the Beatles’ Maharishi Mahesh Yogi days. Peter hears the message and leaves the house to go help his friends. (Nam-myoho-renge-kyo apparently means “devotion to the mystic law of the Lotus Sutra.”)

Peter wanders through the town and toward the television station while Glick watches him on his monitor. (The monitor is sort of a witch’s crystal ball.) [Another allusion to The Wizard of Oz – Editor’s Note] He stops to chat with Valerie Kairys, who’s been wandering around the station, also not under the Frodis’ spell it seems. Ultimately, he ends up right in Glick’s clutches when he knocks politely on the station door and Glick is there to greet him.

Next scene, a very miffed Peter is tied up with the other Monkees. Peter notes that there’s a telephone and he hops over to it and calls the police, explaining to the cops that they’re being held captive at Mammoth studios by “these weird people that want to take over the world.” Somehow Mike’s hands have gotten free, so all four Monkees escape and turn the tables on Glick and his men. The cops show up, one played by Bob Michaels, who was also the cop that Micky “directed” in character in “The Picture Frame.” Seeing Glick and his henchmen tied up and the Monkees free, they come to the conclusion that the Monkees are the villains.

They’re not under arrest for long, as the cops suddenly have an urge to watch Dragnet and are easily tricked into looking at a television in the shop window. Unfortunately it also gets Peter. So he’s going to spend much of this episode out of his mind, as he did in the previous episode, “Monkees Blow Their Minds.” They carry Peter back into the TV studio but the ease of their escape ends up being a trick by Glick: now they are in chains and guarded by some guy called Otto.

Mike and Micky con Otto into giving them the keys to the chains by challenging him to a card game. Otto turns out to be a card shark, pulls cards out of his mouth, and shuffles like a pro. They realize they can’t play a real game with him, so Mike and Micky both make up a game on the spot, “Creebage.” (I guess they can read each other’s minds.) They bluff through the rules, declare that they won, and stand up and take the keys. Otto protests “But I have a Creebage.” This scene is reminiscent of the Star Trek episode “A Piece of the Action” when Kirk made up a card game called “Fizzbin” to facilitate escape from gangster-imitating aliens. [“A Piece of the Action” premiered on NBC January 12, 1968 – Editor’s Note]

Creebage or not, the Monkees unlock themselves and carry Peter off to somewhere else in the television studio. Frustrated with carrying him, they hang him on a coat rack. A hilarious screen caption points out that the coat rack is a “Prop.” Poor Peter is a prop himself at this point. The Monkees search in vain for The Frodis room, until Nyles (yeah, he’s still wandering around) comes out and hangs up a sign that identifies the right door (“Yeah, Frodis room”). According to the Imdb, “Frodis” was the Monkees’ code word for marijuana, and they would smoke it in a lounge built for them off the soundstage where the series was filmed (called the “Frodis Room”).

Mike, Micky, and Davy rush into the Frodis room and find a ridiculous plant with a football eye socket with the drawing of the hypnotic eye pasted over it. Frodis pleads with them that he’s being used by Glick, who kidnapped him when his spaceship crashed. He asks them for help. The boys are “moved” by the Frodis’ story and start crying. Micky gets off the hilarious line, “I can’t stand to see a grown bush cry!” They pick up the Frodis to carry him back to his ship, but before they get far, Glick and his men block them.

The onscreen caption announces, “Typical Monkees Romp.” This one is a spacy, slow-motion run through the backlot to the song “Zor and Zam” (Bill Chadwick/John Chadwick). The lyrics seem to be a mythological protest song. It’s a weird choice tempo-wise for a chase scene. There are lots of slow-motion shots, low angles, and odd close-ups, not to mention a random shot of show producer Bert Schneider lying on a stretcher.

The Monkees (carrying Peter and the Frodis) somehow reach the flying saucer before Glick gets there. As the song ends, the Frodis pops his head out and blows smoke all over the bad guys. Glick is utterly stoned: “I don’t want to fight anymore. I just want to lay down in the grass and be cool.” Frodis laughs in his demented, squeaky little voice. (Micky Dolenz’ own voice) This reminds me of Mel Brooks’ History of the World Part I (1981) when Gregory Hines blows the giant joint onto the Roman soldiers who are pursuing them. Since it’s a film, they didn’t have to be as subtle as “Frodis Caper” but there is a similarity.

The last segment, and the last scene ever on The Monkees, is Micky’s choice of musical guest, following the precedent set up with Davy/Charlie Smalls and Mike/Frank Zappa. Peter never got to bring his choice of guest on (“Monkees Mind Their Manor” would have been a good spot) but stated he would have wanted to bring on Janis Joplin. Micky introduces Tim Buckley (1947-1975) who sings “Song to the Siren.”

Buckley began his career in folk rock in the mid-1960s but experimented with other music styles, such as jazz and funk. The song he performs here, “Song to the Siren” (Tim Buckley/Larry Becket) was not on an album until Starsailor (1970). A better known version was a 1983 cover by the band This Mortal Coil, which made the UK top 100 and was used in the films Lost Highway and The Lovely Bones (and in a random perfume commercial I recall from the early 2000s). This beautiful song has been covered by many other famous musicians, including Robert Plant, Bryan Ferry, and Pat Boone. Read more about it here.

Sadly, Buckley died in 1975 from a heroin overdose. His estranged son, Jeff Buckley (1966-1997) was also a singer/songwriter. His only studio album, Grace, was a critical, though not commercial, success and Rolling Stone ranks it 303 among the “Greatest 500 Albums of All Time.” Like his father, Jeff Buckley also died young (drowning accident).

This episode didn’t take my breath away for the wittiest dialogue or unusual plot, nor is it one that I have a lot of personal attachment to, but it is still one of best and most memorable. I’m so glad The Monkees went out on a high note. It seems appropriate that this was the perfect way for The Monkees to end: a paranoid, Sci-Fi parody about an evil entity pacifying the world through television. The Monkees were self-aware and never afraid to mock the system that made them or to make fun of themselves. Micky Dolenz and crew took the surreal humor, present in many episodes, up a level, making “Frodis Caper” one-of-a kind. I wonder what would have happened if the four Monkees had spent less of their energy on taking over the music and instead put their creativity into the episodes as Micky did in this instance; they might have found an unexpected way to make a statement.

As it stands, I’m glad the show ended when it did. It’s a drag when shows keep going long after they’re any good, they “jump the shark” etc. The Monkees was already showing signs of wear and tear, which could have been a sophomore slump that might have been corrected by hiring fresh writers. We’ll never know. Fifty-eight episodes are what we got, and I enjoyed the majority of them. As Micky said the show was about individuality, and to me it’s also about rebelling against authority, being young, about going beyond what you think is possible, about music, humor, and friendship. I thank The Monkees, not just the four band members themselves, but everyone who worked on the show and the music. You’ve given me a lifetime of fun, laughs, and inspiration.

Thanks to everyone for reading and sharing! I’ll be back in the summer with another post listing my favorite moments of the series and again in the fall with a post about Head. In the meantime, I’ll see you in The Monkees Facebook groups.

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examined the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees vs. Macheen: “The Monkees Blow Their Minds”

The Monkees Blow Their Ending

“The Monkees Blow Their Minds” was directed by David Winters, written by Peter Meyerson, and aired March 11, 1968, second to the last Monkees episode in the original run. To my delight, this episode features James Frawley, director of 29 of the 58 Monkees episodes, as Rudy, dimwitted henchmen to Oraculo. When I saw this episode in the 1980s, I had no idea this actor was one of the directors, possibly the best director of the series. Knowing this makes it so much more fun. Thanks to MeTV, I’ve recently enjoyed Frawley’s performances in The Outer Limits episodes, “The Inheritors” Pt. 1 and 2 and various episodes of The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

“The Monkees Blow Their Minds” kicks off with a musical guest segment, like the one from “Some Like it Lukewarm” with Davy and Charlie Smalls. Frank Zappa (1940-1993), musician and founder of the band The Mothers of Invention, was Michael Nesmith’s pick. Zappa, who also appeared in Head, makes this episode memorable for me. (It certainly wasn’t the storyline.)

For this chat, Mike and Frank impersonate each other. Aren’t they tricky? Zappa wears a Monkees 8-button shirt and has his hair tucked up in one of Mike’s green wool hats. Mike wears a long, bushy wig and a rubber nose. “Mike” introduces “Frank” and pretends to interview him about the psychedelic music scene. Frank, as “Mike,” comments on the tricky editing style of The Monkees and overall, the conversation is full of the ironic self-parody that frequently characterized the second season. I wonder how much of the Monkees audience at the time were into Zappa, The Monkees being a popular show for kids and The Mothers of Invention being an experimental, underground phenomena. That’s more or less what Nesmith and Zappa were joking about in their conversation.

The best part is when Mike conducts Zappa as he musically destroys a car. This is set to the song, “Mother People” by Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention from the 1968 album We’re Only in it for the Money. I wish this part had gone on longer. By the way, you can also see Zappa playing a bicycle on this clip from The Steve Allen Show in 1963.

My first memory of Frank Zappa was the 1982 song “Valley Girl,” featuring his daughter Moon. (So shoot me, I’m a child of the ’80s.) He was in the news a lot in the mid-eighties for testifying before the United State Senate against the PMRC, a story that I followed closely. I would imagine that by the time this episode aired on MTV in the 1980s, a lot of people were as tickled as I was to see him on The Monkees. I even became a casual fan; intrigued enough to listen up for his songs on classic rock radio, sit through his surreal film 200 Motels, and buy a copy of the album Ship Arriving Too Late to Save a Drowning Witch. That album has some hilarious cover art. Speaking of cover art, the cover for We’re Only in it for the Money is a parody of the Beatles album cover for Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Relevant because of the various Monkees references to that album, and because Mike was present at the recording of “A Day in the Life.” You can see Mike about 2/12 minutes into the promo clip.

Back to the recap. Peter arrives at a spooky shop, looking for the “World’s Leading Mentalist,” a.k.a. Oraculo– a scruffy looking magician played by Monte Landis. Oraculo’s dim-witted assistant Rudy (Frawley) greets him. I love the set decoration: weirdness and skulls everywhere, including Oraculo’s staff. Peter explains that he’s got writer’s block and hopes Oraculo can help him. He needs to write a song for the Monkees audition at the club Cassandra. Oraculo perks up at the mention of an “audition.” He tells Peter to look deeply in his eyes and tries to mesmerize him.

That failing, Oraculo pours him a cup of tea. Rudy distracts Peter with a full size skeleton while they sneak a potion into Peter’s beverage. This little bit of physical comedy was funny and I hope Frawley had a good time performing with the Monkees when he wasn’t directing them. The drug completely zones out Peter, which I interpret as a possible subversive statement about drug use.

Next scene: Mike, Micky, and Davy set up for their audition at the club. There are indications that this was filmed much earlier in the second season (April 1967, nearly a full year before it aired), such as the black velvet matching 8-button shirts and Mike wearing the wool hat as well as Micky’s merely wavy rather than full-on curly hair. The black shirts were previously seen in “The Card-Carrying Red Shoes.” Peter walks in late, still zombified. Latham, the club manager, was played by Milton Frome, who appeared in The Monkees first season episode, “Monkees on the Line.” Peter can’t remember how to play his bass. He crows like a rooster, destroys Micky’s drum, and wrecks their chance to impress Latham in the audition.

Oraculo summons Peter backstage. Peter’s now wearing an outfit that looks similar to Rudy’s fake Middle East-style costume (they resemble organ grinder’s monkey outfits). On stage, Oraculo auditions for Latham. His act is to levitate Peter four feet off the ground. We see that it’s a trick aided by Rudy who is off stage using ropes to pull him up and down. Latham hires Oraculo instead of the Monkees. Micky, Mike, and Peter suspect that Oraculo has “stolen” Peter’s mind.

The Monkees go back to their pad and plan one of their cons to distract Oraculo and free Peter. (There’s a rare voice-over from Davy setting this up, making me think scenes were dropped or missing.) Mike calls the mentalist, pretending be an amnesiac who has forgotten where he put his suitcase containing 50,000 dollars. Naturally, Oraculo is interested. Cut to Oraculo already at Monkee’s house. He tries to hypnotize Mike, but Mike sees the same, “Cowardice, and, um, dishonesty, and a general lack of scruples” that Peter saw.

Alone with Peter at Oraculo’s shop, Rudy looks at himself in the mirror in one of Oraculo’s capes and top hats, wishing to become his Master. Micky and Davy sneak in behind him. Micky impersonates Oraculo and gives Rudy commands, “Come to me Rudy.” Rudy realizes pretty quickly that it’s not Oraculo, (wrong accent, Micky) but Micky promises a great treasure to share with Rudy, and this lie is enough to get Rudy to go join Oraculo.

As Micky and Davy try to get Peter’s mind back, they launch a romp to “Valleri” (Boyce/Hart). The first moment with the skeleton driving the go-cart out the door is epic. In these romp shots you can see that the Oraculo set is the same as the Monkee’s pad. At one point, Davy and Micky even carry Mr. Schneider around. The shop scenes are cut in with scenes of Mike at the pad with Oraculo, who tricks him into drinking his hypno-potion. Mike has the same hilarious gagging, full-body reaction as he did in “Wild Monkees” when he drank gasoline. The romp has a few cute moments and some cool weirdness, but is generally pointless and doesn’t enhance the plot. Afterwards, Peter’s still in a trance so Davy just hits him on the head with a mallet.

Rudy shows up at the Monkees pad, seemingly through the wall the way it was edited. This tips off Oraculo that something is wrong, so he orders brain-dead Mike to spill the whole scheme. I’m going to stop and say how much I’m enjoying Monte Landis’ performance. This whole episode is a lesser version of “The Devil and Peter Tork,” with Peter losing something vital to a scheming villain. But Landis’ line delivery makes me laugh out loud. I’ve enjoyed every one of Monte Landis’ seven performances and they were varied enough that I honestly didn’t notice he was the same actor when I watched these episodes as a kid.

Later, Micky and Davy bring Peter back to the house, but he’s still spellbound. On top of that, Mike is missing. There’s a classic Monkees scramble to their usual fast-paced incidental music as Micky and Davy look for their friend in places where he wouldn’t fit: under tables, in jars, in the cupboards, etc. They chain Peter to the wall for safekeeping while they go look for Mike. Weird over-dub of Micky saying, “This overlapping chain link is perfect for both sport and formal attire.”

Micky and Davy burst into Oraculo’s shop to rescue Mike. Rudy knocks them out with the mallet, and Oraculo orders Rudy to give Micky and Davy the potion. He boasts about what a sensation he will be with his four psychic slaves. Clip from the show “Here Come the Monkees” (pilot) showing the four Monkees in the prison-break cutaway. Good times. He summons Peter, who breaks the chains out of the wall to obey his command.

At the club Cassandra, Latham introduces The Great Oraculo. Backstage, all four Monkees are now dressed like Peter. Burgess Meredith is in the audience as The Penguin who he played on Batman. His costume is slightly different however, black top hat instead of purple, so that Screen Gems wouldn’t get into legal trouble with 20th Century Fox, perhaps. It’s a random, pop-culture sight gag, memorable and well executed.

Oraculo works the crowd. Choosing a woman from the audience, he asks her to hold up one to thirteen fingers behind his back. (Thirteen fingers? Heh.) She holds up three. Rudy blatantly signals him the answer. Oraculo “guesses” right and the audience is dazzled. Next, Oraculo picks Davy, disguised in a suit and fake facial hair. He claims he’s a lawyer, and Oraculo offers to predict his future. “At the age of 29, you will be the youngest judge ever to sit on the Supreme Court.” Davy makes a fool of him. “But I’m already 35.” The audience boos. Next, he finds Micky in disguise and asks him to help demonstrate that he’s impervious to pain. Micky touches his palm with a lit cigar, instead of whatever prop Oraculo had planted, and Oraculo howls in agony. Once again the audience expresses disdain.

Backstage Oraculo checks on the “psychic slaves.” Foolishly, he smacks Micky instead of giving him another dose of potion. Micky is revived and quickly smacks the other three awake. HOLD IT, hold it. They should have shown this before the scene of the Monkees as audience plants. That would have made sense because then we would have understood that the Monkees were alert and executing a plan to make a fool of the bad guy. It’s completely plausible in the reality of the show that the Monkees could pop in and out of disguises that quickly. They did it all the time. With the scenes in the order they ran them, I have no idea what happened.

Rudy tries to save the day by calling the “psychic slaves” out on stage. They circle Oraculo, who commands them to go rigid. The Monkees defy him, falling limply to the stage floor. The audience boos. The Monkees turn this into a human dog act, barking and jumping through hoops and so on. They cut in the “I’m Gonna Buy Me a Dog” romp with Monkees playing with the dogs from “I’ve Got a Little Song Here.” Lame. I don’t mind when they recycle footage for a fun effect, triggering the audience’s memory like they did earlier with the prison break scene, but this is just lazy filler. On stage, the dog antics continue and Rudy ends up with the bone from “Some Like it Lukewarm” in his mouth.

That line was a nice nod to The Monkees recurring theme that everyone wants to be in show business. Then, alas, the episode abruptly ends and goes to the black and white performance clip of “Daily Nightly” (Nesmith). There are two things to note in the end credits. First, James Frawley does not get an acting credit as Rudy. I’m guessing Frawley was acting for fun and he didn’t need a credit. The second looks like an error, they misspell “Valleri” as “Valerie.”

“Monkees Blow Their Minds,” was not amazingly original, but was at least amusing before the sloppily-put-together scenes in the last act, and the production team’s general failure to wrap things up. I did enjoy Zappa, Frawley, and Monte Landis so it wasn’t all bad. It’s just one of those things like “Monkees in Texas” where I wonder if they lost a reel or just couldn’t come up with enough footage to make a more satisfying story. Well, that’s showbiz!

In two weeks, it’s the final episode: the delightfully weird “Frodis Caper.” See you then!

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees vs. Macheen: “Some Like It Lukewarm”

Girls, Girls, Girls!

The “Some Like it Lukewarm” story is set up with a sign for the “KXIW-TV Rockathon Contest, $500 First Prize.” I’m so happy that, since this is one of the last few episodes, it’s about their struggles to make it as a band. Mike, Micky, and Davy are in line at the station with other bands, waiting to sign up. Peter is absent for some reason. Mike gives Davy and Micky a pep talk: Since they desperately need the money, the best thing to do is to act like they don’t need it. Got that? Davy tests out the suave, casual attitude, claiming “We don’t need it.” This confuses Micky, who wigs out because of course they do. The director (James Frawley) must have given Peter’s lines to Micky for that scene.

The Master of Ceremonies was played by real-life Philadelphia D.J., Jerry Blavat, who is still going strong today. The Monkees approach him and presumptuously request the prize money. Of course Blavat treats them like they’re crazy, so they sing for him, going into a doo-wop bit. Mike performs an excellent D.J. patter routine, possibly an imitation of Blavat himself. When they demand the money again, Blavat informs them that the contest is for mixed groups only: without a girl in the group they can’t even compete. He leaves shouting about how he digs “Girls, girls, girls!” Micky helpfully explains for our benefit that one of them is going to have to be “a chick.”

“Some Like it Lukewarm” was a tribute to the 1959 film, Some Like it Hot, starring Marilyn Monroe, Jack Lemmon, and Tony Curtis. In the film, Lemmon and Curtis play two broke 1920’s musicians, who are in trouble with the mob because they witnessed a gangster execution, and so they pose as women and join an all female band. Sounds like a Monkees plot to me. The BFI lists it as one of the films you should see before age 14 [Why that specific age? – Editor’s Question], and it is considered one of the best films of all time. “Some Like it Lukewarm, “ which debuted March 4, 1968, was written by Joel Kane, who also wrote for The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis and Wild, Wild West, and Stanley Z. Cherry who worked on Gilligan’s Island and The Addams Family.

Back at the pad, the Monkees choose which lucky guy will become a lucky girl. The editors treat us to a montage of the Monkees impersonating women: Micky as Mrs. Arcadia in “The Chaperone,” Mike as Princess Gwen in “Fairy Tale,” Peter as the mom from “Monkees vs. Machine,” and Davy as Little Red Riding Hood also from “Fairy Tale.” I think the only episode they left out was “Dance, Monkee, Dance” where they pretended to be female dance students. In my recap for “The Chaperone” I talked a little bit about comedies that have men dress as women. You can read about that here. Mike, Micky, and Peter all nominate Davy to play the girl. Reluctant, he backs himself into the closet and comes out with a mop on his head that looks like a long wig. To Davy’s disbelief, a janitor approaches and tries to pick him up.

Back at their pad, Davy stands behind one of those old-fashioned dressing screens and questions how they’re going to turn him into a woman. Micky explains that a woman is a “rag, a bone, and a hank of hair.” I tried to find out about this rag, bone, and hair nonsense; it seems that it’s from a poem called “The Vampire” by Rudyard Kipling (1897).

“A FOOL there was and he made his prayer
(Even as you and I!)
To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair
(We called her the woman who did not care)
But the fool he called her his lady fair—
(Even as you and I!)”

First, they hand Davy a scarf (rag). Then, they hand him an actual bone. He looks at the camera and says “Woo!” Was that supposed to be suggestive? I think it was. Last, they hand him a wig (hank of hair). Davy comes out in the wig and dress and asks how he looks. Micky: “Kind of like a raggy, hairy bone.” Davy complains that he doesn’t know what to do with the bone (fill in your own dirty joke here), and that he doesn’t know how to act like a woman.

Peter pulls out a book, How to Act Like a Feminine Female in Three Easy Lessons. This episode is so weird. I can only imagine why Peter has that book. It would be hilarious if this was the overdue library book from “The Picture Frame.”

He reads off the lessons. Lesson One: “All feminine females must learn to walk with small delicate steps.” Davy walks around with this feet tied together and falls. Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman. The notion that women have to walk and act a certain way is absurdly funny, even 50 years later. What I’m getting at (and maybe the show was too) is that when men are trying imitate women they seem to choose the superficial, exaggerated characteristics. For a comedy that would be the obvious choice.

Lesson Two: “When a feminine female walks from north to south her hips must move from east to west. A small loud bell in each direction will help to teach this technique.” Davy tries this out, with pots and pans tied to his hips, feet still tied with a small rope. Mike gives directions to Micky who shouts them to Davy. “Faster. Slower. East. West.” Davy spins around in circles. Some of us females have never had these lessons. My husband tells me I walk like Redd Foxx, the Sanford and Son years.

Lesson Three: “The feminine female must glide like a swan when she walks with her head high, erect and motionless. The best way to teach this is to place a book on top the head.” Mike and Micky place an enormous book, perhaps The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, on Davy’s head. He sinks into the ground. From the floor he asks, “Isn’t this fun?” Well, it is for me, Davy.

The Monkees return to the television station to show Blavat that they have a girl in the group. Davy tries to leave but the other three hold him back. Blavat checks “her” out and tells them they are now officially entered in the Rockathon contest. All the above happened in the first five minutes. We’ve gone entire episodes where far less happened. Blavat tells Davy he’s cute, which makes Davy all growly. Micky reminds him, “Money, money. Anything for money.” That does seem to be the name of the game.

Back at their pad, Davy expresses doubts about their plan. Cut to a parallel all-girl band in a similar dilemma. They’ve dressed one of their female members in a suit of armor (that we’ve seen in other episodes) and goatee/mustache. Daphne pulls off her facial hair and frets that they’re bound to find out she’s not a boy. I would have loved a scene where they taught Daphne to walk like a Masculine Male. Hey Daphne, can you walk like you’ve got a pair?

Cut to the contest. Blavat introduces the girl band as the Westminster Abbeys. They play a sped up version of “Last Train to Clarksville.” To make them sound like very tiny girls I guess. Also the “boy” is the lead singer, so shouldn’t they be trying to hide his/her ‘girly’ voice since he’s supposed to be a dude?

The Monkees admire the band musically and visually. The drummer is the lovely Valerie Kairys. They show a clip of the Monkees playing “Clarksville” back in the old days, sped up to match the tempo. Davy accuses the one in the beard of being a bit “effeminate.” I feel like the reveal of the “boy” in the band should have come after we see them play. It would have been obvious, sure, but funnier to have the Monkees seeing them first on stage at the same time the audience does. Then they could reveal Daphne removing her facial hair.

As they leave the stage, Blavat introduces the members as Harmony, Melody, Cacophony, and William the Conqueror. Clever reference alert: Westminster Abbey is a Gothic abbey church in England where all the monarchs had their coronations, starting with William the Conqueror in 1066. The band did well; scoring a 98.6, which is the top rating on the applause meter/thermometer that Blavat is using to judge the contest.

The Monkees force Davy on stage; Blavat ogles “her” some more. They do a half-assed job of lip-synching “The Door into Summer” (Chip Douglas, Bill Martin) while Micky, Mike, and Peter physically keep Davy from fleeing the stage. This is most ridiculous for Micky because he’s supposed to be behind the drums. The Monkees also score a 98.6 on the applause meter, putting them in a first place tie with The Westminster Abbeys. Blavat announces that both bands will have to come back tomorrow for a tie-breaking “battle of the sounds.”

Once they get home, Davy immediately wants to remove this disguise, but the others are worried someone from the show might stop by. Right on cue, Blavat knocks on the door. He has a big bouquet of flowers and wants to see “Miss” Jones. The other three hide, so I guess this is only supposed to be her address. He keeps calling himself, “The Geator with the Heater” and “The Boss with the Hot Sauce,” real life nicknames that he used when he hosted a dance/variety television show called The Discophonic Scene. In the context of him chasing “Miss Jones” however, the nicknames sound absolutely lecherous.

Blavat comes in and declares his love for Davy and sexually harasses him with the promise that if “she plays her cards right” the Monkees could win the contest. Blavat pursues Davy, forcing him to back away nervously. Davy says he’ll have to think about it; Blavat gives him until tomorrow. Watching this in the days after the big Weinstein scandal is a surreal experience. I have to hand it to Jerry Blavat for fearlessly playing this sleazy part, especially since they used his real name.

When Blavat leaves, Peter, Micky and Mike tease Davy. Peter says all he has to do is go out with him, and they’re a cinch to win. Mike says if Davy lets Blavat kiss him, he might own a television station. They’re kidding of course, but Davy’s rightfully pissed, “One more remark like that, and I’ll hit you with me purse.”

Later, Davy declines to go out to eat with the others and asks them to bring back a tuna fish sandwich. Cut to the Westminster Abbeys having the same conversation with Daphne: If she has to go out as a boy, she won’t go. Cross-cut of Davy and Daphne going stir crazy. They each decide to go to “Some Little Out of the Way Place That Nobody Goes.” Thanks to this sight gag, this turns out to be a literal location:

Davy sneaks in, wearing a huge coat and sunglasses and asks for a secluded booth. The waiter can help him, “I have a booth which is so secluded, that last week three of our best waiters disappeared while trying to find it.” He takes Davy to a booth that’s already occupied by Daphne. Davy apologizes, and they both take off their sunglasses and immediately fall in love.

Daphne was played by Deana Martin, daughter of singer, actor, and Rat-Packer, Dean Martin. According to IMDB trivia, Deana got the opportunity to play Davy Jones’ love interest after Davy escorted her to her brother Dino’s 16th birthday party. There’s a nice article here where Deana Martin talks about her friendship with Davy.

They are in the middle of making vows of love to each other when Mike, Micky, and Peter noisily enter the restaurant. Okay, I guess they got pulled over by the cops for having long hair, otherwise Davy wouldn’t have arrived first. I assume Davy took the bus since they must have had the Monkeemobile. Yeah, it moves the plot along, but it isn’t logical. Also, for some reason Davy was carrying his girl boots in a large bag with him, because he panics when he hears the other Monkees, and as he leaves, he drops one of the boots. Daphne picks it up, “Wait my darling, you forgot your… high heels?” How very reverse-Cinderella. Davy goes home and hides under his covers just in time for the others to come home and give him his sandwich. Davy realizes he’s lost a shoe.

The next day at the contest backstage area, Davy sees Blavat coming and dives into Daphne’s dressing room to avoid him. Since he’s dressed as a girl, Daphne doesn’t recognize him at first. When she sees he only has one shoe, she realizes she has the other one, and Davy’s game is up. Davy takes off the wig and admits he’s been fooling everyone. He explains that he didn’t tell her because a girl as nice as her wouldn’t go for someone that wasn’t honest. She outs herself as William the Conqueror by holding up the little mustache and goatee. They admit they did this for the same reason: to enter the contest. Davy feels it was terribly wrong.

After all the different cons the Monkees perpetuated over the course of the previous 55 episodes, I sort of wonder why he feels guilty now. On the other hand, most of the time when they dressed up and assumed other identities they were trying to help some innocent person or foil some villain. Here, the con was strictly about winning money.

Cut to Davy having presumably just confessed to Blavat, who must be so embarrassed. Blavat yells at him for deceiving him and disqualifies him because the contest called for mixed groups. Davy tells him that’s what they are, and both groups perform “She Hangs Out” (Jeff Barry) all together. Unfortunately, this relegates the girls to go-go dancers on the sides of the stage. Really, they couldn’t let a couple of them have instruments? Let’s assume they won and split the $500 between both bands.

Next is a segment with Davy Jones hanging out with Charlie Smalls (1943-1987). This was supposedly a sample of the “variety show” style the Monkees wanted, where they would chat with musical guests after the comedy. Charlie plays the piano while Davy explains that they’re writing songs together. Davy asks why he (Davy) doesn’t have soul. Charlie says he has to explain rhythmically. “Your soul would emanate on the accented beats one and three. Where my soul emanates on the accented beats two and four.” He uses the Beatles as an example, claiming they play “hard and funky” on one and three. They demonstrate with some clapping. I don’t know if I buy this scientifically, but they end with a positive message, “Everybody’s got soul.” They sing more of the song “Girl Named Love,” which appeared on the album, The Birds The Bees & The Monkees.

Sharon Cintron, 1963 Playmate of the Month, is listed as “Maxine” in the end credits, but the band girls were named Harmony, Melody, and Cacophony in the dialogue.

Overall, I really enjoyed this episode. Unlike the previous few, there were many hilarious moments and funny lines. The plot moved along and tied up neatly with charming performances from Davy Jones and Deana Martin. This was admittedly a Davy-centric episode. One of the complaints I’ve read about The Monkees was that too many of the plots revolved around Davy’s love life. Since I’m almost at the end of the series, I decided to take a count (yes, I went full-on nerdy with a spreadsheet) and see how many episodes used this plot device (these choices were my opinion; there were some episodes with female characters, but the plot didn’t revolve around them) and decided that there were eleven (18%) out of the 58. That’s not so bad. However, I would also double-count this particular episode as one that is about their struggles as a band (six episodes or 12%). There were far too few of those for my taste.

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees vs. Macheen: “The Monkee’s Paw”

“You’ll never work in show business again!”

“The Monkees Paw” was directed by James Frawley, written by Coslough Johnson, and first aired January 29, 1968. I enjoy this episode; it’s good old fashioned storytelling, based loosely on the short story, “The Monkey’s Paw” by W. W. Jacobs. In that story, a married couple comes into possession of a mummified monkey’s paw that was cursed by a “holy man.” The couple tempts fate when they make an innocent wish that leads to a tragedy. The point being, I suppose, “don’t mess with fate.” There have been many adaptations of this story, including films and stage plays, an opera, an episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, a radio play with Christopher Lee, and the short segment on The Simpsons “Treehouse of Horror II.”

The Monkees version begins at an empty nightclub where the band audition with “Goin’ Down.” The Manager of the club (played by Henry Beckman, the D.A. from “The Picture Frame”) rocks out awkwardly in appreciation. Davy plays drums and Micky sings up front, playing tambourine and maracas. Yeah, they should have set the band up that way the entire series. The nightclub’s current act, Mendrek the Magician, watches from the side, sensing that he’s about to be replaced.

After the song ends, the Manager immediately hires the Monkees. When Mendrek inquires about his own fate, the Manager calls him a has-been and fires him. The two older men argue. Mike intervenes, standing up for Mendrek and asking the Manager not to just “throw him out.” Mendrek thanks Mike by stomping on his foot. Mendrek is a sympathetic character, yet he’s also unsympathetic because, let’s face it, he’s kind of a jerk.

Now for a tangent about clothing styles. For the episodes filmed after the summer of 1967 tour, the Monkees everyday costumes changed from the interchangeable mix-and-match shirts to variations on tunics, mandarin collars, and love beads. Except Mike. Beginning with “Monkees on the Wheel” he wore a tucked in shirt and tie, which I suppose suits his on-screen personality. I suspect at this point the actors were choosing their own clothes and they all look terrific, but sometimes Mike looks like their older brother, chaperoning the band around town [Your pot-smoking accountant brother-in-law – Editor’s Note].

Mendrek assumes the Monkees are going to mock him. Instead they instead offer condolences. They are always supporters of the underdogs. Mendrek says, “Oh don’t be sorry. People don’t want to see Magicians anymore. They want to see reality. As it’s shown to them on television.” Wow. Replace “television” with “YouTube” and that line still works today! This theme of older entertainers threatened by young rock-n-rollers was also in “Monkees at the Circus” and “Captain Crocodile.” Micky finds the Monkey’s Paw in Mendrek’s things; he’s grossed-out, but curious. Mendrek tells the story of how he acquired it from a Lama while looking for “secrets of the unknown” in Tibet.

As told in flashback, Micky plays Young Mendrek, who has climbed a snowy mountain in a magician’s tux to see the High Lama. Instead, he finds the regular lama, known as “Reg.” Mike plays Reg with as broad a Texas accent as possible, comically smashing the expectations about how a lama would speak. Young Mendrek wants to see the High Lama, but Reg explains that he’s out back “sleeping it off.” That’s how he got his name. Nice subversive joke. Young Mendrek tells Reg he’s looking for “Tibetan Unknown Secrets.” Reg is resistant at first and even serves Mendrek papers for trespassing. Eventually, he gives Young Mendrek the Monkey’s Paw, claiming it will grant him three wishes.

Back in the present, Mendrek offers Micky the “priceless” Monkey’s Paw for a quarter. This is pretty nasty of Mendrek. Going by the source story, we can assume that he’s had misfortune because of it, and now he’s wishing this on Micky. I don’t think Micky’s after “mystic power” the way that Young Mendrek was. As Mendrek is leaving, Micky gives Mendrek the quarter, officially purchasing the paw out of pity so that Mendrek won’t be a “vagrant” as the manager calls him. After the Manager kicks Mendrek out, Mike, Davy and Peter look at the camera to tell us, “Well, that’s show business!” with a musical flourish. Recycled joke from “Monkees in a Ghost Town,” but it still works here.

Back at the Monkees pad, bad luck kicks in. Micky’s on the phone with the never-on-this-show-before mentioned “Musicians Union” asking how they can pay their dues if they don’t work? But they can’t work unless they pay their dues. Of course they haven’t worked for a long time. Peter gets in some deliberately out-of-character political commentary with a tongue-in-cheek delivery to the camera:

Micky wanders off holding the paw and distractedly wishes for a way they could get that money. I don’t think he intended to use Monkey’s Paw. (Although he knew about the wishes from Mendrek’s story.) There’s been nothing in Micky’s characterization to suggest he’s superstitious, but throughout every scene in the episode, he continues to hold on to the Monkey’s Paw. Out of the blue, the Manager walks in and says he’ll pay their dues and take it out of their salary, for a kickback of 142%. Later, Micky defends the Monkey’s Paw to Mike, Peter and Davy, as it got them their dues paid, despite the ridiculous interest rate.

Davy is starving and wonders if the Monkey’s Paw could get them some food. Micky wishes for a spaghetti dinner “big enough to feed all four of us.” Spaghetti noodles drop on his head. The others rush up and eat it right off of him. Notice that the Monkees are relatively innocent and don’t make any “Make us as popular as the Beatles” wishes. That’s true to the story where the poor couple involved only wishes for enough to pay their mortgage off, no more.

At his home, Mendrek’s daughter expresses her sympathies about his recent unemployment. He tells her he sold the Monkey’s Paw to one of those “long-haired weirdos.” Daughter worries, “Don’t you remember The Book of Mysteries said it was cursed?” The Book of Mysteries? Would that be Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys? Mendrek says if that were the case, his luck would change immediately. Just then, he gets a call informing him that he won a million dollars. I can’t help but be a little happy for him. He looked so down and out in the earlier scene, and Hans Conried is so likable.

At the nightclub gig, Micky obsesses over the Monkey’s Paw and his final wish. The others tell him to let it go already. Peter complains that Micky hasn’t talked about anything else since he got the Monkey’s Paw. Micky starts to say, “I wish I could stop talking about it.” but only gets to “I wish I could stop talking…” before his voice vanishes. Someone announces the Monkees and they start playing “Goin’ Down.” It seems a little unfair that this happens to him, since he didn’t have any selfish intentions with his wishes.

Micky’s screwed since he can’t talk or sing. He stands on stage and mouths the words. The crowd boos them off the stage, and the Manager demands an explanation. Mike bluffs that Micky’s singing with his feet, “Haven’t you ever heard of “A Young Man with a Corn,” which is a joke-reference to the 1950 movie, A Young Man with a Horn. Playing along, Peter suggests it’s like the jazz song, “Flat Foot Floogie with the Floy-Floy.” Davy makes the pun, “Sock it to me, baby.” Micky does some fast foot-work, but the Manager is unimpressed. He warns them that if Micky can’t sing by tomorrow the Monkees are, “Outta show business!” as he puts it. Does he have that kind of power?

At the pad, the Monkees huddle around Micky, who tries to say “Four Score and Seven Years ago.” Poor Micky. This is really hitting him in the worst place, his wonderful voice. Davy suggests that the Monkey’s Paw has no power, and the problem is all in his head. Did Davy forget the spaghetti ex machina? Mike reasons that the problem began with Mendrek. Well, duh.

The Monkees arrive at Mendrek’s house, where he has bags on his desk with dollar signs on them, as you do when you’re rich [Gene Simmons cashes another check! – Editor’s Note]. Mendrek is busy on the telephone. The Monkees, always eager to answer other people’s phones (See “Too Many Girls” and “Monkees in the Ring”),  answer some of Mendrek’s lines. There’s a Tonight Show reference when Peter tells a caller, “No, no Mr. Carson. Mendrek wants you on his show.” Mendrek pauses to give them his attention, and Mike brings up the Monkey’s Paw. Mendrek quickly brushes him off, claiming he’s too busy. Mendrek knows darn well the paw caused Micky’s problems.

I’m curious about Mendrek’s name. I wonder if it was inspired by the comic strip, Mandrake the Magician, which ran from 1934 to 2013. Mandrake was a hypnotist who used his powers to fight all kinds of villains and spies. It had a pulp-adventure feel, which is right up The Monkees’ writer’s alley.

Back home, the Monkees kid themselves that there’s some other cause for Micky’s sound of silence. They attempt to cure his “illness” with a cutaway gag, putting him in a boiling pot of chicken soup. Later, Micky silently chatters with Mr. Schneider, still holding the Monkey’s Paw. Mike, Peter, and Davy talk about him around the totem pole. Mike suggests that they need to re-teach Micky to talk. Davy makes a bad pun based on the totem pole, asking, “How?” With visibly red, stoned-looking eyes, he giggles uncontrollably at his own joke. I guess Davy Jones decided to play the “High Lama” himself in that scene.

Peter, Mike, and Davy dress in academic robes and give Micky lessons on talking. They use a blackboard that has a few inside jokes such as: “Save the Texas Prairie Chicken,” “Frodis,” and “legalize.” Mike wants to teach Micky to say “pencil,” but Micky still can’t speak. Peter tries to prompt him, using his p-popping trick. They give up, Mike holding the writing implement in question and pondering, “Do you suppose it has anything to do with the fact that this is a crayon?”

The Monkees hope that this is just a mental block. In a hilarious and memorable scene, they take Micky to a psychiatrist, played by Severn Darden (Guggins from “Monkee Vs. Machine.”)

They also use the same office set they used for Guggins. He gives Micky the ink-blot test, but the others keep piping in with their interpretations. Missing the point of the test, the shrink becomes furious, insisting that the only right answer is:

At the nightclub, Davy tells the Manager they’ve incorporated Micky’s silence into the act. By which he means, they’ve decided to imitate the Marx Brothers. Out on the stage comes Mike as Groucho, Micky as Harpo, and Peter as Chico. I guess Davy’s the Zeppo. Mike does bits from Groucho’s game show, You Bet Your Life. “Say the Magic Word, you get a hundred dollars.” There are other You Bet Your Life/Monkees connections. Joy Harmon, from the episodes “The Picture Frame” and “Monkees on the Wheel” and Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez from “It’s a Nice Place to Visit” were both discovered on You Bet Your Life. Doodles Weaver from “Monkees Manhattan Style” appeared on the show as a comedian.

The Manager fires the Monkees and promises, “You’ll never work in show business again!” (Again, I doubt he has that power.) Back at the Monkees house, Mick-o mopes. Davy doesn’t blame the manager; he agrees an act like the Marx Brothers would never sell.

They wind up back at Mendrek’s. To his credit, he is now helping “the less fortunate.” That would include the Monkees. Davy and Mendrek’s cute daughter look through “The Book of Mysteries” to see if they can find a solution. Unfortunately this character never gets a name; she’s listed on the IMDB as “Daughter.”

Mendrek hits the gong from “Monkees Chow Mein” to jumpstart Micky’s power of speech but only succeeds in freaking Peter out. Fortunately, Davy discovered that the solution is to sell the Monkey’s Paw to someone else. Mike suggests they only sell it to someone deserving and, with perfect timing, the Manager enters to re-hire Mendrek. They all get to work on selling the paw to the Manager. The Manager finds a quarter a bit steep and wants to know more about the “special powers.”

They demonstrate via the montage of magician’s tricks to “Words” (Boyce/Hart). Micky and Mendrek are the magicians who make the others vanish and reappear with “pop” sound effects. There’s also recycled footage of the Astonishing Pietro from “Too Many Girls.” Mendrek puts Micky in a giant cup of coffee, perhaps to accompany the giant phone from “Monkees on the Line.” Five Monkee points to whoever gets the reference in this picture:

After the romp, the Manager demands they sell him the Monkey’s Paw. They happily comply, and Mike suggests he go ahead and make a wish (with a look to the camera, inviting us in on the joke). The Manager wishes for a million dollars, which rains on him from above. Immediately the IRS shows up and arrests him for tax evasion.

Back at the Monkees pad, Micky talks a mile a minute to make up for lost time. The Monkees are once again right back where they started, no better or worse off, despite their ill-advised fling with the supernatural. They say goodbye, borrowing each other’s names, and sing the theme a capella. Overall, this was a fun adaptation of the original story. Lots of funny scenes and lines and I’m always happy when the plot revolves around them as musicians. The guest cast was terrific as usual, with the talented and engaging Hans Conried as Mendrek, walking the line between friend and foe to the Monkees.

There’s an interview clip, in which Peter talks about the death of the Hippie Movement, but more interesting is the outtake from the episode that follows. The Monkees are at Mendrek’s desk and do a brief Three Stooges “Hello, hello, hello.” Hans Conried breaks character and curses, “(whistle), I hate these kids.” According to this article on Something Else Review,  the actors playing the Monkees were encouraged by the producers to be energetic and goofy all the time, creating a spontaneous mood where “their madcap sensibilities could be captured with first-take efficiency.” Conried did not enjoy this environment. His expressed frustration was a moment that embarrassed Micky Dolenz because he was a fan of the older actor. Dolenz talks about this on Gilbert Gottfried’s Amazing Colossal Podcast.

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees vs. Macheen: “The Monkees Watch Their Feet”

“The more days that go by, the more good old days there are to miss.”

“The Monkees Watch Their Feet” a.k.a. “Micky and the Outer Space Creatures” is a standout episode of the second season, mostly because of the unusual story-telling style. Instead of seeing things from the Monkees point of view, the story is done as a documentary (or mockumentary), introduced to us by comedian Pat Paulsen. Like “Fairy Tale,” this is a deviation from the usual format. I imagine that if you had never seen The Monkees before and somehow this episode or “Fairy Tale” was the first you saw, you’d be puzzled. “Monkees Watch Their Feet” is also one of the most subversive of the series. Much of this episode is a commentary on the Red Scare, the war in Vietnam, and the generation gap, expressed both in Paulsen’s narration and in the homage to science fiction movies.

Alex Singer directed “The Monkees Watch Their Feet” and two of my other favorite episodes, “Monkees à la Mode” and “Monkee Mayor.” The scenes with the Monkees were shot in May of 1967, but the narration sections with Pat Paulsen were shot the following September. It makes me wonder if, when they were looking at the May footage, the production team decided they didn’t have much of an episode and needed to add something. Some of the other season two episodes ended up feeling incomplete. Maybe this was one they cared enough about to fix. Coslough Johnson wrote this episode and many other Monkees episodes that I mentioned in previous recaps.

The episode begins with Mike in front of an American flag. “Battle Hymn of the Republic” (Julia Ward Howe, 1861) plays, adapted by Monkees composer Stu Phillips. The flag in the background has only 35 stars, the official flag in 1863. The scene has a very official “State of the Union” address vibe. Mike speaks into the microphone, “Ladies and Gentlemen, this evening RayBert Productions and Screen Gems, with its usual lack of cooperation from the National Broadcasting Company, is pleased to present this special report from the Department of UFO Information. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Secretary of the Department of UFO Information, Mr. Pat Paulsen.” They start right out with a jab at the Network with the “usual lack of cooperation from the National Broadcasting Company.” Unfortunately, that’s all we’re going to get of Mike. (He was recovering from his tonsillectomy during the dates when the initial scenes were shot, according to the book, The Monkees Day-By-Day by Andrew Sandoval.)

Paulsen warns us that aliens are among us and preying upon “the innocence of our youth” (“because they know they’ll try anything.”) This is a common theme in The Monkee series, the joke that adults cannot comprehend teenagers/young adults at all. Throughout Paulsen’s narrative, he uses alien invasion to explain the “strange” behavior of kids. He sets up his “documented film report” and reveals a small film screen upon which we see Micky, Peter, and Davy in their pad. It seems to me that the Monkees are objects rather than subjects in this episode because we see them first on Paulsen’s film screen. This gives the audience a rare detached view of them, seen through Paulsen’s eyes. Note that he addresses the audience, but the Monkees never break the fourth wall in this episode.

Paulsen describes the boys as “three average, typical young American teenagers with their own television series.” The scene moves into the Monkees living room, where they’re getting dressed. That must have been some party, if they left their clothes in the main room. Davy nags the others to hurry so they can start rehearsing. Micky’s clothes vanish with “pop” sound effects, and Davy scolds him that he’s supposed to be putting his clothes on.

Paulsen analyzes the incident of Micky’s missing clothes and blames it on aliens, “Certainly if the intent was to be humorous, it would have been funnier than that. Unless it was a TV show.” His deadpan delivery of these ridiculous lines is excellent. I also enjoy his awkward stammering and physical shtick, contradicting his “Authority Figure” status with the visual of someone who doesn’t even have control over his own body and surroundings.

After the credits, Paulsen begins describing the problems and confusion of being a young adult. He narrates Micky’s life with clips from episodes past. He calls Micky a “teenage millionaire” (Clip of Micky as M.D. from “I’ve Got a Little Song here”), “deeply troubled” (Micky with Brenda in “I was a 99 Pound Weakling,”). He describes the “vague longings and awakenings in his body” (Micky in “Everywhere a Sheik, Sheik” lays in the harem girls’ laps) and “vague awakenings of his mind” (Micky blows raspberries in “It’s a Nice Place to Visit”) There’s some clip of Micky in front of a WWI plane that I don’t recall shown at Paulsen’s line, “Tormented by a war he must fight in a country thousands of miles away.” But even with all this, Paulsen comes to the conclusion that aliens are messing with Micky.

To prove his point, we get a scene on an alien spaceship. The Assistant alien tells her Captain they need to start “Plan D” which is “Disposal of Earthlings through the various means of destruction at our command.” This could be a reference to the infamous 1959 film, Plan 9 from Outer Space, which concerned a plot to take over the world by controlling the undead. The aliens in this episode use a young adult instead of a zombie. This strikes me as a subtle joke that teenagers are easily-controlled zombies, through the media and peer pressure [Brilliant, prescient point! – Editor’s note].

Micky walks down the beach while Paulsen narrates the theme lyrics, “Here he comes walking down the beach; He gets the funniest looks from everyone he meets.” Micky finds his missing gear on the trail left for him, including a ladies stocking that Paulsen describes as “an oversight” on the part of the aliens. Snicker. He gets zapped into the alien spaceship as he tries to pick up his drum. Paulsen hilariously mocks the teenage trends of the time, “The young man finds himself in a strange environment. Gone are the psychedelic lights, the ear shattering music, the strangely painted ritualistic dancers. All of the good, solid, peaceful things that, to him, means security and home.” He’s got a point: The spaceship is not all that weird in comparison to the psychedelic ’60s.

Micky is friendly to the aliens, wandering around and admiring their “pad.” He pulls a handle that traps him in a cage. The aliens try to duplicate him. Their first attempt is a gorilla (actually a man in a costume as seen in “Monkees Chow Mein.”) The Assistant, who is clearly the one in charge, tells the Captain to reduce the brain tissue and lower the IQ. This does the trick. She tells the Captain that Robot Micky will spy, while they question the real Micky, who appears stoned inside the alien cage. One flaw in this plot for me, the usually quick and clever Micky is required to be naïve and passive for this to work. On the other hand, this is Paulsen’s view of Micky, not the Monkees point of view, so maybe this is his convenient (to the plot) version of him.

Paulsen waves his pointer stick to emphasize his words, comically off-rhythm with himself. (That’s probably harder to execute than you’d think.) He ponders, “Whatever happened to the good old days? Perhaps you figure that the more days that go by, the more good old days there are to miss. That’s tricky thinking and not the answer. Today is not a good old one, because the aliens are causing riots and crime waves, drug addiction, unemployment, etc. They want to put the blame on teenagers.” This is accompanied by a clip of screaming fans from “Monkees on Tour.” Then, and a subversive stab at the Vietnam War and reaction to war protesters:

Paulsen narrates that the aliens made a perfect robot of Micky, except that the robot’s feet are backwards. Robot Micky walks along the beach, where Davy and Peter find him and immediately sense that something’s wrong. Paulsen tells the audience never to give anyone the benefit of the doubt when looking for aliens. Peter and Davy notice the spaceship, but Robot Micky diverts them, smartly suggesting that if they’ve never seen a spaceship before, then how would they recognize one? Peter, “He’s right man. Probably some new drive-in.” Another funny point made. When styles become so “out there,” how would humanity know if something was “off.” An alien landing in Times Square would probably be ignored.

This storyline of Micky being replaced by an alien seems to be a comic homage to Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), which was about humans who are replaced one-by-one with emotionless alien duplicates. This film could be seen as a warning on the dangers of Communist brainwashing which was the fear at the time, or possibly it was a comment on the House of Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) Red Scare hysteria. There’s a short breakdown here on the ways sci-fi movies made political commentary on the Red Scare.

At the pad, Robot Micky behaves strangely. He reports back to the aliens through a microphone on his thumb, he thinks the phone is a “Pussycat,” and he tries to ask the fridge out on a date. Davy and Peter point out his odd behavior. When Robot Micky tries to kill them with dynamite, Davy and Peter subdue him, tie him down, and go over his body with a checklist. They discover the backwards feet and surmise that he’s not Micky. Robot Micky’s head swivels around and says, “Klaatu, Barada, Nikto” referencing the 1951 sci-fi film, The Day The Earth Stood Still, another film that, like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, was a commentary on cold war politics. Micky also quotes Forbidden Planet: “My Name is Robbie the Robot.”

Peter and Davy go to the military UFO department for help. There’s a young agent, using binoculars to search for UFO’s and an older man, the Chief, who’s a bit wacky. Peter and Davy tell the Chief their belief that Micky’s been replaced by an alien because his feet are backwards. The Chief asks them to make an official report, but that’s about all the help he offers. As usual, the adults/authority figures are no help. The Chief removes his shoes under the desk and pushes them so the heels are facing forward, so now the Monkees think he’s an alien. The younger agent helps them tie him up. There’s a sight gag throughout the scene that’s tricky to catch in the chaos:

Paulsen admits “Yes, our government’s position on certain matters is unbelievable. Often, the fight against the aliens must be carried out by the citizens alone.” Peter and Davy prepare to do exactly that. They question Robot Micky on the whereabouts of the real Micky and on why the aliens are on earth. Robot Micky keeps replying, “I won’t talk.” Davy pulls a Captain Kirk on him (Kirk’s method of breaking robots and computers just by confusing them with logic). There’s a great shot of all this action from an unusual camera angle.

When Peter accidentally squirts Robot Micky with seltzer, he freaks out and they discover he’s a robot, rather than an alien. Peter and Davy take the robot apart in order to make him help them find Micky. The close shot of the robot’s tubes and wires look like the same ones Micky used in “Monkee See, Monkee Die” when he tried to repair the radio. After poking in several wrong places, they hit the right one, and Robot Micky agrees to take them to the spaceship to find Micky.

The flying saucer transports Peter, Davy, and Robot Micky (with pop sound effects) onto the ship to reunite with Micky. The aliens and Robot Micky fire lasers at the Monkees and this begins a romp to “Star Collector” (Goffin/King). Sadly, this is a typical romp, nowhere near as clever as the rest of the episode. There’s a notable moment used in the opening when Peter rides a bike around the ship. The one joke I like is when the Grandfather clock (I don’t know why there’s a Grandfather clock on the spaceship, but just go with it.) blows up at exactly midnight and this happens:

In the aftermath, the aliens are passed out on the control panel. Robot Micky apologizes to the Monkees, who invite him to come home with them. With regrets, he tells them he can’t stay because he’s got a little “blender” on Zlotnick. Wow, he really has a thing for kitchen appliances.

Paulsen wraps things up with a mock-serious explanation about the danger of aliens with backward feet in our society, “America, if you let this menace into your midst, you will not know whether you are coming or going.” I was not around yet for the HUAC days, but I’ve assume this is what they’re going after throughout the episode, making commentary on the hearings investigating Hollywood on charges of spreading Communist propaganda. Paulsen is flanked by two uniformed soldiers, and he takes the little flags from his desk and puts them into the soldier’s rifles. For ultimate patriotic affect, no doubt. He wraps things up, “In summation, let me say once more, emphatically, we are being attacked by outer space. The time has come for us to stop sticking our bayonets into each other, and start sticking our bayonets into space.”

Pat Paulsen (July 6, 1927 – April 24, 1997)  is clearly the star of “The Monkees Watch Their Feet.” His performance is a variation of his act that he performed on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour as a regular guest star. See clips here. As a gag that started on The Smothers Brothers, he ran for president in 1968 on the STAG party ticket (Straight Talking American Government). He ran for president five other times, ending up on the primary ballot several times and occasionally getting a percentage of the votes. Here are two of his campaign slogans, “I’ve upped my standards. Now, up yours” and “If elected, I will win.” And another funny quote, “If either the right wing or the left wing gained control of the country, it would probably fly around in circles.”

Obviously, I dig this episode a lot. It’s got it all; mockumentary, sci-fi, and political satire. I have to wonder what it would have been like if they hadn’t added the Secretary of the Department of UFO Information scenes later. I’m guessing another weak story that’s a pale copy of an episode from the first season. There’s not much to the plot, let’s face it. With those Paulsen scenes and narration, the style adds to the substance and the episode becomes brilliant comedy. I wonder how this would play for younger people who grew up after the wall came down. Even for me growing up in the 1980’s I still have memories of the paranoia of communism and fear of a war with Russia so this episode strikes a chord with me. I do think that even today there’s plenty of government conspiracy and fear of “others” that makes this all sadly still relevant.

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees vs Macheen: “Fairy Tale”

“Once Upon a Time, In the Land of Kirshner”

“Fairy Tale” was directed by James Frawley, written by Peter Meyerson, and aired on January 8, 1968. This is a memorable episode, and when you think of the series, this one’s bound to come to mind. It’s funny and unexpected. They break with the regular episode format and the usual premise of them as an out-of work band to show them acting out a comic stage play. I’m all for shows that can experiment and then return to their usual format. The episode takes place on sets with colorful backgrounds, such as ones used in some of the musical performances for “Valleri,” “Words,” and “Papa Gene’s Blues.” The sets are all cardboard and look like they were made for a school play. Instead of the usual poking fun at old movies, this story is a parody of the fairy tale genre, reminiscent of The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle and Friends “Fractured Fairy Tale” segments. Most kids watching the show had probably read books of fairy tales many times.

The Town Cryer, played by Regis Cordic, who was also the Doctor in “The Monkees Christmas Show,” blows a horn and sets up the story for us, “Once upon a time in Avon-on-Calling…” Avon-on-Calling is a joke referring to the “Avon calling” door-to-door cosmetics sales company and commercials. I remember Avon – both my grandmothers were into it. The Town Cryer introduces Mike the cobbler, Davy the tailor, Micky the innkeeper, and Peter the unemployed. The Cryer continues to narrate that Peter is out of work because he can’t stop dreaming about the princess. The other three advise him to give it up.

Peter plays the underdog role in this one, and he’s the perfect choice, having done it so well in “One Man Shy.” He’s the poor young hopeful hero, like the youngest son from “Puss in Boots” who ends up marrying a princess. Speaking of princesses, she’s in a carriage that just so happens to be stuck in the mud in Peter’s little town. Princess Gwen is played by Mike, with a long blonde wig (sideburns fully visible), false eyelashes, and an extremely unpleasant attitude. Mike’s Gwen performance contradicts the expected beautiful, sweet, and virtuous princess. Gee, I wonder if these two kids can work it out.

After the opening titles, Mike as-the-cobbler starts carrying on about what a great-looking chick Mike-as-Gwen is, (“those sideburns, that body”). This gag of Mike lusting after himself happens several times and is weird and funny. The Princess Gwen version of Mike shouts for her knight, Harold, to get her out of the mud. To my amusement, there’s a sign with an arrow helpfully pointing out where the “mud” is supposed to be on the set (as seen on the “title” graphic in this post).

Harold promises his “fair jewel of the east” that he’ll have her out of the mud in a moment. Mike bats false eyelashes at Harold. Just reading the previous sentence makes me laugh. Mike as a “pretty girl” is the funniest way the show could have gone. Micky does crazy things all the time, so if he’d played Gwen it wouldn’t be as unexpected. Davy as “pretty” is a little too obvious. Mike is the perfect choice for maximum comic effect.

Peter offers to carry Gwen out of the mud, but she says she’ll walk across his back instead. That’s a shame: I would’ve loved to have seen Peter Tork carry Michael Nesmith. Gwen warns Harold that if he doesn’t get the carriage out of the mud in 10 minutes, she won’t marry him. She walks across Peter’s back to get back into the carriage, and then Harold steps on Peter to talk to her. Micky pulls Peter out of the “mud,” and Peter kicks the sign in frustration.

Harold and his fellow knight, Richard, go to the Inn and demand food, launching a montage of them eating like savages with twinkly “la la” music playing. Mike and Davy help Micky wait on the unruly knights, giving them a plastic and rubber food feast (but real bread). It gets ridiculous as they start piling furniture on the tables for the knights to eat, and then the gag escalates as they bring lights, stands, and film equipment to the banquet.

Peter hears Harold telling Richard his plan: Richard will lock Gwen in the tower, torture her, kill her, and then Richard will stab himself. What’s in this for Richard? Before Peter can warn Gwen, the knights return to the carriage. Peter supplies his back for them to walk across again. Gwen rewards Peter by giving him her locket (Mike gets it caught in his wig but yanks it out and keeps going in character). They order the horsemen, Ric Klein and David Price, “let’s away!”

Peter tells Micky, Mike, and Davy (innkeeper, cobbler, and tailor) about Harold’s plan to lock Gwen up in a tower with “an imp-penetrable dragon.” He uses the p-popping trick that he used on the “Peter Percival Patterson’s Pet Pig Porky” track on Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd. Micky suggests the locket might be of use. Peter disagrees and bites it to demonstrate its cheapness. There’s a puff of smoke and the Fairy of the Locket appears, complete with a Bronx accent and hair half in curlers. They tell her the princess is in trouble. The Fairy identifies her as, “The selfish, conceited, overbearing one, oh, with the Texas accent?” This is classic fairy tale stuff gone goofy: the dragon, the magic locket, the fairy, and the rescue.

The Fairy starts giving orders. She tells Mike to make shoes that will “scale high walls.” Davy is to “sew me a suit of mail that nothing can penetrate.” Micky is supposed to turn a kitchen knife into a sword that can cut through iron. When this is done, Peter will take these things and save the princess. The Fairy tells Peter not to drop, crush or lose the locket. Not because it would lose its magic as Micky assumes but because, “I’ll be killed, stupid; it’s my home.”

Much miming and physical acting to “la-la-la” music as Mike, Micky, and Davy make enchanted objects for Peter. The score to this episode, with all the “La las,” “Uh-huhs,” and “magic lockets”, is funny all by itself and enhances the goofy tone. Peter ends up with chain-mail armor, a prop sword, and (to my amusement) wingtips. Mike, Micky, and Davy push Peter into the forest. Comically contradicting the hero archetype, he is not brave and wants to get out of it, “I don’t even like her anymore.” He suggests, “What about the army, 10,000 strong?” Nice Lord of the Rings reference, Peter. Once he’s on his own, the first person he meets is Davy as Little Red Riding Hood, Micky as Hansel and Davy as Gretel, and then Micky as Goldilocks. These are funny little bits, clashing with the expected image of well-known childhood fairy tale characters.

Peter gets to the castle and approaches the Dragon, who appears to me to be more the Asian New Year’s style than the medieval fantasy I would have expected. Peter is prepared to fight him with his magic sword, but the dragon doesn’t want to play that game. He asks Peter a riddle instead. Director James Frawley supplies the voice of the dragon, “What has two ears, two eyes, and a very short life.” Peter doesn’t know but that’s good enough for the Dragon, who lowers the drawbridge and allows Peter entrance to the castle.

Unfortunately, it’s a trap; Richard is waiting for him. Richard tries hitting him with a mace and club but the score tells us the “magic locket” is protecting Peter. Richard tries beating at him with his sword and shield but nothing hurts Peter. He has this beaming, adorable smile on his face the entire time as Richard is trying to kill him, as only Peter Tork could do. Richard runs off and Peter looks up at a stock footage shot of the Empire State building, identifying it as where the princess must be languishing. (“Languish, languish.”)

Peter does the Batman-style crawl up the wall with his anachronistic wingtips. He gets to the tower and asks Gwen to escape with him through the window, but she’s afraid of heights. Peter says she has nothing to fear because of his magic locket. Gwen realizes she gave him a valuable magic locket and demands it back. Harold and Richard enter the scene, and Harold orders Richard to “Get them.” Richard, showing more logic than his boss, asks, “Why should we do that? They’re already in prison.”

Because he no longer has the luck from the locket, Peter’s sword gets stuck when he tries to defend himself. He asks Gwen to return it, but snarks, “You’re going to fight them with a magic locket? You might as well do a dance to Spring.” The knights pull knives on Peter. Harold promises Gwen a torturous death, so she dumps him. With that, Peter and Gwen are now cellmates.

Back at the inn, the Monkees drink milk, as they did in “Hitting the High Seas.” The Town Cryer announces, while crying, that Peter will be executed. (Mike is mouthing the Cryer’s lines for some reason.) Mike, Micky, and Davy head off through the woods to rescue Peter. After searching for him for three days, they decide to split up. Micky runs into Little Red Riding Hood (Davy), and Davy runs into Goldilocks (Micky).

Nothing quite like a smutty joke in the middle of a fairy tale, eh kids? Micky, Mike, and Davy reach the castle and freak when they see the dragon. The dragon asks the riddle: “What has six eyes, six ears, and a short life?” Sharp-witted Micky quickly figures it out, “Three dumb peasants.” The dragon lowers the drawbridge and the Monkees jump to show the impact, and their jumps are deliberately out of sync with each other.

Gwen is shrieking in the tower as the knights are about to kill her. Mike, Micky, and Davy get up there and the knights and the peasants fight, mixed with footage of knights climbing a castle wall and fighting from some old film that I can’t identify, unfortunately. Gwen is flattered, “Defending my honor, isn’t that groovy? A bunch of long-haired weirdos and some vicious people.” Harold says he’s basically non-violent and Peter agrees, so they arm wrestle instead of sword fight.

Gwen finally tosses the locket back to Peter. Once he has it, Harold and Richard instantly give up the fight. Micky and Mike sing, “Robin men, Robin men, riding through the woods,” their own variation on the theme song to The Adventures of Robin Hood TV series. Gwen offers Peter anything he wants for a reward. Mike, Micky, and Davy prompt Peter to ask her to marry him, especially Mike who goes on about how hot she is again. Peter asks Gwen, but Mike breaks character, takes the wig off, and turns him down, “Yeah, I’m already married, man, Phyllis and Christian and my little kids.”

Mike-the-cobbler ends with, “Well, that wraps up another laugh riot” and reminds us to “Save the Texas Prairie Chicken.” They sing the Monkees theme a capella as they walk off and wave to the camera. The episode proper is followed by a brief interview segment. Bob Rafelson and the other Monkees tease Mike about playing Princess Gwen. He only comments, “I fail to recognize that I really did that you know.”

After this is the performance clip for the song “Daily Nightly” from the album, Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd. The song was written by Michael Nesmith and the lyrics refer to the Sunset Strip curfew riots from 1966. This same riot was also mentioned in the interview segment for the episode “Find the Monkees.” The lyrics are beautiful and poetic, “Darkened rolling figures move through prisms of no color/Hand in hand, they walk the night/But never know each other.” The song also uses the Moog instrument, as did “Star Collector.” For “Daily Nightly” Micky played the unusual instrument himself. In the book the Monkees Day by Day (Andrew Sandoval, 2005), Peter mentioned that he thought Micky did a better job playing the Moog on “Daily Nightly” then session musician Paul Beaver did on “Star Collector.” According to Tork, instead of trying to play it like a “monophonic musical keyboard,” “Micky just made the Moog stand up and speak in a way that Paul Beaver didn’t have a clue.”

“Fairy Tale” really was a laugh riot, despite Nesmith’s sarcasm. Everyone’s big over-the-top acting suits the visual style with the flat sets and grade school theater costumes etc. There are so many good lines and funny sight gags. Nearly all the dialogue makes me laugh. The Monkees carry most of the comic weight themselves in “Fairy Tale,” playing multiple roles. The best part for me is that the two non-actor Monkees took the lead roles, and they really committed to it. The guest cast did their part to be hilarious as well; the dastardly Harold, and post-modern fairy.

“Fairy Tale” was an experiment that worked. It could’ve gone either way when they risked breaking the format, but it paid off in big laughs and a fun premise that kids can relate to, since they most likely know all those common fairy tales. It was fun to see those stories taken apart and played with, Monkees-style. The episode was obviously, for whatever reason, low budget. It seems to me that the crew and performers used their creativity to make that work for them and came up with hilarious episode.

 

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.