Caffeinated Boogie Nights: Hootenanny a Go-Go
Created | Updated Feb 18, 2018
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Caffeinated Boogie Nights: Hootenanny a Go-Go
Hootenanny a Go-Go
aka 'Once Upon a Coffee House'
1965
Director: Shepard Traube
Starring: Curtis Taylor, Karen Thorsell, folk singer Oscar Brand from Winnipeg, and a host of others including Joan Rivers
Location: Miami Beach
Sometimes, people, you look at a film description and you just know: This film is going to be terrible, but you can't stand not to watch it. It's going to be a can't-miss, horrible experience. Hootenanny a Go-Go lived up to the promise of the psychic premonition. It included bad sets, terrible dialogue, corpsing actors, and truly cringe-worthy singing. But there were surprises: the naughty painting, the surreal dream sequence, and the pizza food-fight truly caught me off-guard.
Hootenanny a Go-Go, originally under the much more boring title Once Upon a Coffee House, was filmed in a few sunny weeks in Miami in 1964. One of the participants, a 'folk musician' – I insist on the quotes – says they started out in an old warehouse, but the sound was lousy, so they moved. He says they had a good time. They had a better time than the audience, trust me on this. Even though the whole enterprise appears to have been fueled by nothing stronger than coffee. Not espresso: the 'espresso machine' in the film is a jocular prop that strongly resembles the head of a Cyberman. It refuses to dispense espresso, which makes us suspect Sirius Cybernetics involvement. The joke dies the death within 8 seconds, but is repeated later in the film.
Another online critic opines that this opus documents the exact moment when the Folk Revival Movement died. I'm inclined to agree. It also, unfortunately, documents the year when Americans of all ages made the fatal fashion mistake of wearing Madras plaid. The lead 'actor' has a Madras sport coat. He also, alas, owns a pair of Madras shorts. This will give you a sufficient idea of the lavish costuming.
'Make it stop,' said Elektra, and took the dog for a walk. I soldiered on to the bitter end.
The Plot: A rich but gormless young society New Yorker with terrible taste in clothes flies down to Miami every weekend to moon over his girlfriend, a Bryn Mawr graduate with ambitions to sing 'folk music'. (She dreamily executes such deathless numbers as 'My Dog Blue'.) The fast-talking owner of The Coffeehouse (great name!) persuades the New Yorker to buy this useless piece of real estate, the better to put the moves on the Baez wannabe. She is eventually won over by champagne on his yacht – they're the only actors who appear to be on anything stronger than coffee, but with their lines, they need it.
The rest of the movie consists of Coffeehouse acts actually performed by working musicians down from the Greenwich Village scene. Don't get excited: the best-known of them is Oscar Brand, and you've probably never heard of him unless you're Canadian. Brand does a perfectly dreadful Irish song about cod liver oil, and that is one of the high points. The low point is without doubt the bikini beach number called 'Do the Duggle'. The Latino guy sings this ditty, the rest of the cast do a modified Twist in a large sandbox, and the camera guys demonstrate what sexual harassment with a movie lens looks like. Film history is made, sort of. Regretfully, I have no video for you to enjoy. You will just have to imagine this.
Okay, there's one highlight: Joan Rivers was very young at the time, and didn't know any better. You can see her comedy routine here. In addition to riffing on dentrifices, the comedy team launched into a NASA bit with the obligatory Werner von Braun/Nazi jokes. If you're a Joan Rivers fan, you'll enjoy this. The rest of you, just grit your teeth and endure.
The surreal dream sequence occurs when our hero is most in doubt about his prospects of winning the girl – and, quite possibly, his humanity.
'What in heck is he supposed to be?' Elektra (back from walking the dog) demanded.
'I'm not sure,' I admitted. 'I think it's a dog costume. But what kind of dog has a tail like that? And why a dog?' Lola the Doglet didn't know, either. Some mysteries aren't meant to be solved.
About five minutes before the end, Elektra bailed on me, proclaiming 'I can't take any more.' I think that means she missed the pizza food-fight. ('I'll live,' she comments.) It was definitely one for the books. Who knew you could disarm a knife-wielding beatnik by throwing mozzarella in his face?
Anyway, the thing was finally over, and I left Amazon a one-star review with a suggestion: This film should become the next cult classic, à la Rocky Horror. People could get up and dance the Duggle. They could bark during the Dream Sequence. (Lola did.) And they could have pizza delivered for the big finish.
At least, then, they wouldn't mind watching this movie.
