By Todd Garbarini
An
old saying is that drama is easy, but comedy is hard. When comedy works, it is
nothing short of a miracle. When it fails, it is a thundering disappointment. On
New Year’s Eve in 1976, I attended a party at my mother’s aunt’s house. While the adults were ringing in the New Year in the small
and cramped basement, I was on the first floor watching a television airing of
Stanley Kramer’s It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. It was the first time
I had ever heard of and seen this madcap, star-studded extravaganza that pits a
Who’s Who of top-notch comedians in a quest to locate a suitcase containing
$350,000.00, the equivalent of roughly $3.5 million dollars today. To say that
I loved it would have been an understatement. To make a film on that scale with
that number of people and actually make it hilarious is other worldly. I immediately
became a fan of most of the cast, particularly Jonathan Winters in his role as Pike,
the driver of the moving van who must get to Yuma, AZ and will stop at nothing
to get his hands on $350,000.00 located under a “big ‘W’”.
James Frawley’s The Big Bus is a comedy
that took its maiden voyage theatrically on Wednesday, June 23, 1976,
nationwide. As a send-up of disaster films that made their rounds at the box
office during the 1970s, it is a film similarly pitting an all-star cast in an inane
situation that should be laugh out loud hilarious but falls a bit short in this
department. The premise concerns a nuclear-powered bus designed to be driven
from New York to Denver in record time while an iron lung-encased oil magnate
(Jose Ferrer), in cahoots with a group of oil sheikhs, plot to sabotage the bus
to protect their financial interests. They manage to take both the driver and
co-driver out of commission with a bomb, necessitating their replacements with
Dan Torrance (Joseph Bologna), a vilified former bus driver who crashed a
previous bus and was accused of eating all the passengers to survive, and his
narcoleptic co-driver “Shoulders” (John Beck), so named as he cannot keep the
bus off the highway shoulder and in his own lane. Along for the ride are Kitty
Baxter (Stockard Channing) as Dan’s former flame; Ned Beatty as one of the
remote radio navigators; Ruth Gordon as a passenger who tells it like she sees
it; Sally Kellerman and Richard Mulligan as a couple about to be divorced who
cannot seem to keep their hands off each other (the bit is initially humorous
but wears out its welcome); Lynn Redgrave as a staid fashion designer; a crazed
Bob Dishy as a veterinarian; Richard B. Shull as a man whose time on planet
Earth is coming to a close, and so on. The bus is even outfitted with an onboard swimming pool, if you can believe that such a
thing would fit. For those of you unlucky enough to recall, in February
1979 NBC-TV launched an ill-fated television series as their answer to ABC-TV’s
The Love Boat. Titled Supertrain, the most expensive television
series ever produced up to that time, it was (surprise!) a nuclear-powered
transcontinental New York to Los Angeles souped up ride that housed a swimming
pool, a movie theater, a disco(!), and a cast of characters so bland one wonders
how this train ever left the station. The pilot episode, directed by Dan
Curtis, was an interminable two hours, with a catchy theme that I dug at the
age of ten and was composed by Robert Cobert. Both shows were conceived of by
Fred Silverman at different points in his career.
Bus made its television network premiere
on Saturday, May 24, 1980 at the unorthodox time of 09:30 pm. The film runs 88
minutes, and while being placed in a 90-minute time slot, a good amount of
footage must have been excised to accommodate commercials. Bus may have
played out much funnier at the time of its release as a fair number of jokes
are topical, though the 2001 theme accompanying the rollout of the
titular vehicle is still very much in the minds of filmgoers decades later. The
gags are amusing but are light-years away from what it could (and should) have
been. An admirable attempt at humor, Bus cannot hold a candle to the
absurdist wrongdoings of the stewardesses and passengers of 1980’s Airplane!
Apparently, the Zucker Brothers, the brains behind Airplane!, worked on Bus
as well. Bus can be viewed as the appetizer, with Airplane!
served up as the main course – and dessert, to boot.
Kino
Lorber has released the film on a beautifully transferred Blu-ray. I love this
company and they do not disappoint. There is a feature-length commentary by
film historians Howard S. Berger and Nathaniel Thompson which is more fun to
listen to than actually watching the film – at least for me. They discuss the
location shooting and give short bios of the cast members as they appear
onscreen, while also engaging in anecdotes about the big disaster films of the
period. It is always a pleasure to listen to them.
The
film’s trademark comedic key poster art was illustrated by the late great
cartoonist Jack Davis, who also drew the key art for the aforementioned Mad World. It appears on the Blu-ray cardboard sleeve and the Blu-ray cover
art in a slightly truncated and altered version to fit the dimensions and still
be discernible.
Oscar-winning
composer David Shire, who also scored The Taking of Pelham 123 (1973), The
Conversation (1974), and All the President’s Men (1976), may seem
like an unorthodox choice to score such material, but he makes the most of it
with a rambunctious score that made its way to compact disc (remember those?)
in 2011 via Film Score Monthly.
Rounding
out the Blu-ray are a selection of trailers from the showcased title, John
Schlesinger’s Honky Tonk Freeway (1981), Richard Fleischer’s Million
Dollar Mystery (1987), Gus Trikonis’s Take This Job and Shove It
(1981), Marty Feldman’s In God We Trust (1980), Michael Apted’s Continental
Divide (1981), Joel Schumacher’s D.C. Cab (1983), and Neal Israel’s Moving
Violations (1985).
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