The 70s were over. Adamson's steady work throughout the decade presented work in an abundance of genre and styles, resourceful (which could very well just mean bad), adaptable to the shifts in cultural popularities and trends, and able to "seamlessly" splice new footage into films the studio acquired from one way or another. But things seemed to stall, the drive-in market began to diminish, and the era of the blockbuster (ignited by things like Jaws and Star Wars) was beginning. A number of projects at Independent International did not seem to come to fruition, leading to this final pair of films, the last two complete films in the Al Adamson canon.
Considering the blood, guts, sex, nudity, statements of rebellion against tyranny, classic screen genre actors, and drive-in notoriety of "tits and terror" that fueled Adamson and Independent International in the 70s, perhaps the biggest "shock" of all is that his last two works are essentially family films, neither distributed by Independent International. Less shocking are that both are quite painful slogs, as if by no surprise a filmmaker who has emphasized exploitation as the basis of his career would be bad at directing a kids film (though, to be fair, he was not particularly "good" at making the exploitation either).
Of the pair, Carnival Magic gets the slight edge, not-so-much entertaining but full of enough awful groan inducing novelty to barely keep the energy going for its dreary eighty-five minutes. Don Stewart (the connective thread between these two films) plays Markov the Magnificent, a carnival magician who harbors two secrets: first, he is not a charlatan hosting some sideshow parlor tricks but actually genuinely able to read minds and levitate people, and second, his assistant chimp Alex (credited as Trudy the Chimp) can talk (something that does not particularly get much of a reaction other than "he can talk?", especially considering they are coming across a. . . talking animal. . .). Markov and Alexander the Great become the hits of the carnival, drawing in large crowds for their act (which is shown in a sleepy amount of detail) angering Kirk (Joe Cirillo), a lion tamer who had previously been the hot act, and also garnering the interest in Dr. Poole (Charles Reynolds) who wants the chance to experiment with Alex. Kirk and Dr. Poole team up for their own individual interests, and Markov, with the assist of two young workers at the carnival, work to save his talking chimp friend (what is even happening?)
Adamson's attachment to Carnival Magic was mainly just as a director-for-hire, without any slivers of enthusiasm that are certainly visible in some of his "better" works. But so much of it gets by from the mere absurdity of its moments, with somehow Alex's "talking" (which is basically just a series of grunts and single words than anything goofy or loquacious (this is not a Mr. Ed type work, though was the main focal point of its marketing pitch)) never not amusingly ridiculous. And the focus of Alex as a magical talking chimp is actually quite fitting for Adamson as the "primate protagonist" film that was launched by Clint Eastwood's Every Which Way But Loose was something that many studios were easy to replicate. But there is hardly anything else to even latch onto even as mere B-entertainment, although there is something to be said about its straightforward quality, with few detours or shifts in tone evident in much of his 70s work. The main question remains: who is this for? The film was justifiably obscure until it was unearthed a few years ago and began a circuit at Drafthouse screenings before an appearance on the Mystery Science Theatre revival in 2017.
Lost ends the run (though not the story), a painful and very badly made note to go out on that offers Adamson's only child protagonist (though arguably Psycho-A-Go-Go and its multiple incarnations dabbles with that perspective). Buddy (Sheila Newhouse) has recently moved to Utah with her mother Penny (Sandra Dee, in her last appearance in a film) and new step-father Jeff. Buddy is lashing out, confused about her parents divorce, and not willing to give Jeff a chance, despite his good-natured attempts at forming a bond with his step-daughter. While out in the woods with her dog, Buddy gets lost and struggles to survive and get back to her home alive.
Most of what Lost attempts to do does not work, from its domestic drama set-up which is just poorly executed and shoddily acted, to its "dramatic" sequences which are repetitive in their visuals and narrative movement. Much of Buddy's journey are long-shots of her walking around aimlessly in extended montage, though there is some late interest by an appearance by Jack Elam who helps her out in the final stages. Much like Carnival Magic, the question remains: who is possibly the target audience for this? It is limp as can be for adults and children alike, the softest of notes to conclude a bizarre, but at least usually energetic, career. Lost did not seem to get a theatrical screening in any capacity, eventually finding its way on television in the mid-80s.
The following comes from the terrific documentary on Adamson's career and life Blood & Flesh. Adamson never directed another film in full, though the last decade of his life almost took on a narrative that could align with one of his big screen offerings. While still working occasionally in the producer role, several projects remained in gestation and were never fully formed, and after the death of his wife in 1992 by cancer Adamson drifted away fully from the film business to focus on other deals, namely in land and real estate which was quite the lucrative area for him. But the most intriguing of these "unfinished and unmade" works would have reunited Adamson with Sam Sherman at Independent International. Ever the salesman and always "hip" on current trends, Sherman had an interest in making a documentary on UFOs to cash in on the many "sightings" taking place at the time, and thought it would be a great opportunity to re-engage his old friend, who had slipped into a deep depression. Uninterested in aliens Adamson agreed to do the project though under the condition that he would approach the material as fiction, but he soon became convinced of the existence of "life out there", especially following a mysterious meeting that his friends appear unwilling to discuss in fully on camera. The film would have been a docu-drama about alien encounters, beginning with a sighting in 1897, but Adamson's murder in 1995 by his live-in contractor Fred Fulford (who Adamson confronted after discovering he had stolen his credit cards and was maxing them out) left it unfinished (and according to Sam Sherman there is enough material for three movies, planned with titles like Beyond This Earth and From Other Worlds (though a promo reel does exist).
Adamson's grisly murder by Fulford (who was sentence to prison after a two hour deliberation by the jury) left him buried underneath a mound of cement, a truly baffling ending for a quite fascinating life. With their major lows and plenty of difficult moments, going through the works is so pleasurable in their documentation of 70s exploitation, an ability to understanding both the cultural trends for audiences at the time while also seeing how they were placed into the confines of whatever film the studio happened to be working on. If something was not selling in its current form, why not add some bikers or zombies or sexy stewardesses to the material in an effort to get some more eyeballs? Adamson's decline just emphasizes the almost sad observation that film makers, stars, and people in general are just as "trendy" as what they often place on screen, and it is staggering to see how much a behemoth these "blockbuster" works were to just render the momentum of his 70s success as just completely inert in their irrelevance. Audiences got a taste for more, and the pleasures of films made by people like Adamson were suddenly no longer enough. And while there is certainly a sadness to the last few years, Adamson himself did not seem to lament the ending of that stage. He did what he did and what he was able to do, merging his love of old Hollywood with contemporary novelties, a partnership with Sam Sherman profitable and fruitful. Regarding the films, sadder is what actually ended the run, and the final suggestion here before moving on to other realms of film history is to watch these earlier, slightly out of order, and conclude in 1978 where the bizarre and almost joyous Cinderella 2000 puts an ending to a different and arguably happier story.
Carnival Magic
Dir. Al Adamson
85 Minutes
USA
1983
Starring: Don Stewart, Jennifer Houston, Regina Carroll, Mark Weston, Howard Segal, Joe Cirillo, Trudi the Chimp, Charles Reynolds
*1/2/*****
Lost
Dir. Al Adamson
93 Minutes
USA 1983
Starring: Sandra Dee, Don Stewart, Sheila Newhouse, Ken Curtis, Jack Elam
*/*****
October 1st, 2020