by Stephen Vagg
The recent series on beach party movies got us thinking about the movie stardom of Frankie Avalon. Because for a while there, in the mid-1960s, at the height of beach fever, it seemed that Avalon might break through as a genuine film star. Technically, he was one, if you count being top-billed in AIP movies. It wasn’t to be, and film acting was only a small chapter of Avalon’s overall career. Still, it was an interesting one, and we thought it was worth a little attention, particularly as his acting is rarely taken seriously.
Avalon was born Francis Avalonne in Philadelphia in 1940. He was an entertainer from an early age, playing trumpet, inspired by the film Young Man with a Horn: by the time Avalon was twelve, he’d been signed to a recording contract and had guest starred on television shows. He moved into singing after meeting writer-manager Bob Marcucci and Avalon’s debut movie appearance was in a 1957 musical called Jamboree. This was one of a number of low budget rock’n’roll movies made around this time, which took a thin story and shoved them full of musical acts. Jamboree featured Avalon singing ‘Teachers Pet’:
Avalon wasn’t a star when Jamboree was filmed, but that soon changed. He benefited from the teen idol shortage that ensued when Buddy Holly died and Elvis went into the army, and turned out some big hits including ‘De De Diana’, ‘Venus’ and ‘Why’. This drew Hollywood’s attention, since there was a lot of interest at the time in casting teen idols in movies to support older male stars, on the theory that they would help bring in a younger audience. Howard Hawks attributed Rio Bravo’s popularity in part to the presence of Ricky Nelson; likewise, Avalon’s fellow Philadelphian, Fabian, was seen as contributing to the box office receipts of North to Alaska, and Pat Boone’s acting was thought to assist the grosses of Journey to the Centre of the Earth.
Long-time star Alan Ladd was producing and starring in a Western based on a Louis L’Amour novel, Guns of the Timberland (1960). His daughter Alana admired Frankie Avalon and so the singer was cast in a support role, singing songs, and romancing Alana Ladd, who plays the ingenue. Co-written by a young Aaron Spelling, Guns is not much of a movie – Ladd’s alcoholism caused his appearance to deteriorate markedly by now, the story is a little weak, and Frankie Avalon doesn’t really suit Western garb with that distinctive haircut. However, the young singer was clearly comfortable on screen.
The rushes impressed arguably the biggest star in Hollywood, John Wayne, who was looking for a pop star to play his sidekick in The Alamo (1960), which Wayne was directing as well as starring in as Davy Crockett (and co-financing). Avalon got the gig, hiding his distinctive haircut underneath a coonskin cap, playing “Smitty”, a fictitious sidekick of Crockett’s who gets to (spoilers) survive. Again, Avalon looked a little odd in the old West, but the film was widely seen (although it didn’t recover its cost). He released a version of the title track ‘The Ballad of the Alamo’.
Avalon was more happily cast in a support role in an all-star sci-fi adventure tale, the entertaining Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961), from producer Irwin Allen. Avalon plays his trumpet while Barbara Eden dances as Walter Pigeon tries to save the world in his submarine. This movie was a big hit, and Avalon’s singing of the title track was generally admired.
Less successful financially was a heist comedy Avalon made for Columbia, Sail a Crooked Ship (1961), alongside Robert Wagner and Ernie Kovacs. At the time, Avalon claimed this was the first time he played a film role which didn’t feel shoehorned-in so that he could sing some songs. This is true. Indeed, the movie would have been better off had Avalon played the lead rather than Wagner – Avalon’s youth and naivety would have suited the story better.
Movie studio AIP, which specialised in lower budgeted exploitation pictures, hired Avalon to sing in the English-language version of a Japanese cartoon feature film it had bought the rights to, retitled Alakazam the Great (1961). This is a really sweet movie, based on the same legend that gave rise to the TV series Monkey Magic. AIP hoped to import a whole bunch of Japanese cartoons, but these plans were scuppered when, surprisingly, Alakazam didn’t do very well at the American box office.
AIP didn’t hold this against Avalon, casting him in two more movies. The first was Panic in the Year Zero (1962), a remarkable “the bomb has just dropped” story, with Avalon as the son of Ray Milland, who uses the apocalypse as an excuse to turn vigilante. Directed by Milland, Panic is one of Avalon’s most thought-provoking films (especially if you don’t see the filmmakers as endorsing Milland’s actions). It is probably his best dramatic film role.
AIP then cast Avalon as a GI in Operation Bikini (1963), alongside Tab Hunter and Gary Crosby; despite the title, this was a war movie (originally called The Seafighters). It feels like a picture that began as a stock war story but then AIP panicked at some stage and ordered all this other stuff put in, like Frankie Avalon songs and scenes of Bikini Atoll. It’s not very good.
The popularity of Avalon’s singles had begun easing off, but he remained in demand for movie roles, playing support parts in two costume dramas. Drums of Africa (1963) was a cheapie made at MGM by producer Al Zimbalist, using footage from the 1950 King Solomon’s Mines (Zimbalist made another film using this method a few years earlier, Watusi). It’s a silly movie, Avalon again uneasily cast – it’s not his fault, he tries his guts out, he simply looks odd in 19th century Africa with a rifle and his character has no purpose in the story other than to ask questions. The Castilian (1963) was set in 10th century Spain, shot in Europe by producer Sidney Pink and starring a mixture of European stars and Hollywood imports such as Cesar Romero, Broderick Crawford and Avalon. Again, Avalon’s character performs no real function: he’s a strolling balladeer, which is at least different (and helps explain the story). The Castilian has impressive production values and it’s worth a look if you liked El Cid and are into dramatisations of Spanish history. Avalon then received a role that finally turned him into a movie star.
Sam Arkoff of AIP claims that he originally wanted Fabian to star in Beach Party (1963), the musical comedy that the studio was planning on making about teens having fun at the beach over summer. Fabian’s career had many parallels with Avalon – both from Philadelphia, both managed by Bob Marcucci, both dramatised in The Idolmaker.
Fabian became a pop star after Avalon, but became established in movies earlier, given a starring vehicle, Hound Dog Man, in 1959. However, when AIP wanted to make Beach Party, Fabian was under contract to 20th Century Fox, so the studio went with Avalon, who as mentioned had already worked for the company. AIP then had the good fortune to team Avalon with Annette Funicello on Beach Party and the two of them are magical – broad, funny, energetic, seeming like a real couple; they get the movie off to the perfect start singing ‘Beach Party Tonight’ and never let up. Avalon’s warm persona and slightly cartoonish vibe were ideal for the beach party movies, with their in-jokes, double-takes, songs and silliness.
Beach Party was a big hit and AIP quickly put Avalon and Annette in two sequels, Muscle Beach Party (1963) and Bikini Beach (1964). Both gave Avalon more opportunities for variety than is commonly remembered: in Muscle Beach Party, he’s given some dramatic acting; in Bikini Beach he plays a dual role, the Potato Bug, and is very funny. Avalon had a real gift for broad character acting that was accessed far too rarely – he would’ve been an ideal regular on, say, a variety/sketch show.
Avalon’s success in the AIP films had been noticed and he was offered a juicy role in a Bob Hope comedy over at United Artists: I’ll Take Sweden (1965), playing the deadbeat boyfriend of Hope’s daughter, Tuesday Weld. The plot has Hope get Weld away from Avalon by moving to Sweden, only to find that country full of free love and Weld tempted by even more inappropriate men – this was a superb idea for a comedy, but it was not exploited properly in I’ll Take Sweden. Instead, we get a cringey “silent majority” style late period Hope movie, which never feels as though it takes place in Sweden. Avalon’s performance is utterly fine, completely professional – it’s not his fault that the film isn’t good.
Avalon’s role in Sweden meant that he missed out on playing the lead in AIP’s Pajama Party (1964) – that went to Tommy Kirk – but he did make an amusing cameo in the movie as Kirk’s Martian boss. Avalon and Funicello were reunited for number five in the beach party series, Beach Blanket Bingo (1965). He sings a serious ballad in this one, but you could sense that Avalon was getting impatient being stuck at the beach. It was reported that Avalon told AIP he was happy to keep making movies just not beach party ones, saying “Even a seagull leaves the beach from time to time and I’m getting a little sick of sand.” (He did agree to a cameo in How to Stuff a Wild Bikini.)
To give AIP credit, the studio responded by giving Frankie Avalon three terrific non-beach chances in 1965 – the studio really looked after him with a series of roles that were utterly perfect for the singer. (After all, by this stage he was AIP’s second biggest star, topped only by Vincent Price).
First was Ski Party, a twist on Some Like it Hot, with Avalon and Dwayne Hickman donning drag on a ski trip. Second was Sergeant Deadhead, an army comedy with Avalon again playing a dual role. Third was Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine, a spy spoof with Avalon as a secret agent battling evil Vincent Prince with the help of Hickman.
Avalon is excellent in all three movies – bright, energetic, funny. No actor encapsulated AIP comedy from this era better than him: Avalon commits fully, never phones it in, and formed a wonderful team with Dwayne Hickman (who was in all three – he made a cameo in Sergeant Deadhead). Unfortunately for Avalon, Ski Party suffered from competing against a glut of beach party movies on the market, and underperformed at the box office. Sergeant Deadhead suffered from a bad script and was an outright flop, despite fine work from Avalon and co-star Deborah Walley. Dr Goldfoot did reasonably well at the box office, helped considerably by the presence of Vincent Price and a strong promotional campaign. There was a sequel, Dr Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs (1966), but Avalon elected not to appear in it (it was being shot in Italy and Avalon’s wife was having one of their eight kids), so Fabian stepped in.
In late 1965, Avalon told the press that “the big producers don’t see” his films. “The public does [this was before the release of Sergeant Deadhead] but the producers don’t. They automatically look down their noses at them. Take somebody like Otto Preminger – he’d never think of hiring me, but I could do real good for him.” Be careful what you wish for.
AIP did not give up on Avalon, teaming him with Funicello in a racer drive-in movie, Fireball 500 (1966), alongside Fabian. Avalon got to punch out Fabian, have sex with Julie Parrish and sing. His performance is competent and strong, but the film doesn’t quite work, mixing old broad AIP beach party style with a more realistic race car drama. It is perhaps significant that AIP decided to cast Fabian in the studio’s later “car” movies of the sixties, such as The Wild Racers, Thunder Alley and The Devil’s Eight – possibly, it felt that Fabian fitted into that cinematic world more than Avalon.
AIP announced some musicals to star Avalon, but these were never made, most likely due to the failure of Sergeant Deadhead (Rumble, Robinhood Jones, The Hatfields and the McCoys). Instead, it put Avalon in The Million Eyes of Sumuru (1967), where he played a sexist secret agent helping spy George Nader battle Shirley Eaton’s homicidally misandrist femme fatale. The film was made by Harry Allan Towers and is never as much fun as you hope it’d be: George Nader seems to be sending up heterosexuality throughout the movie, but it must be admitted that he fits into the “world” of the movie more than Frankie Avalon, whose presence feels weird. Still, the movie is worth checking out for the locations and Eaton, who is having a grand old time.
Avalon also seemed uneasy in his final AIP movie, The Haunted House of Horror (1969), a British teens-in-an-old-dark-house film. Although set and shot in Britain, AIP insisted Avalon or Fabian be cast, over the objections of the director who wanted Ian Ogilvy. Avalon’s casting doesn’t work – too American, too old, too broad – but the movie does have a cult and some interesting touches.
This could also be said for the film that essentially killed Avalon’s career as a movie star – Skidoo, directed by none other than Otto Preminger, who Avalon had so wished to work with several years earlier. Skidoo is one of those you-have-to-see-it-to-believe-it movies, Preminger’s attempt to make a “with it” comedy about a former hitman (Jackie Gleason) who goes to prison to take out another gangster (Mickey Rooney) and winds up taking acid and… ah, look, you have to see it to “get” the movie. Avalon played a mafioso and was billed third, after Gleason and Carol Channing but above names like Peter Lawford, Groucho Marx, Rooney, Burgess Meredith and many, many others. And it’s got to be said – Avalon is really good in Skidoo. He’s funny and charming, suiting the anarchy of the movie, positively understated in his scenes with Channing, and far more energetic than Groucho Marx (whose appearance is sad). Out of all the cast, Avalon might be considered to have given the best performance (though Frank Gorshin is pretty good too). However, Skidoo was such a critical and commercial disaster that the film hurt Avalon’s acting career. He later called it “a bad choice”.
In 1969, it was announced that Avalon would star in a biopic of boxer Willie Pep called “Will of the Wisp”; this casting was much mocked in the press at the time, but unfairly – Avalon had a boxing background, and he was a good actor, he could have made it work. Unfortunately, financing fell through. (He had earlier been linked to a biopic of boxer Joey Giardello that also never eventuated). Avalon sought to meet Sidney Lumet for a role in The Anderson Tapes, but Lumet refused to meet with him. “I’ve always been taken for granted,” he said in 1970. “So, I’ve always taken the attitude of ‘All right, I’ll show you!’ Now it’s a problem getting the opportunity.”
Avalon kept busy as a singer and doing guest spots on television. His movie career revived in 1978 with the release of Grease in which he sang ‘Beauty School Dropout’, but this did not really open up new opportunities so much as confirming him as a nostalgia star, riding on his late ‘50s/early ‘60s fame. These efforts included reunions with Funicello such as Frankie and Annette the Second Time Around (1978) and Back to the Beach (1987); the latter in particular demonstrated his charm and skill had not dimmed. Avalon occasionally flexed his acting muscles in something like The Take (1974), episodes of Police Story and a slasher called Blood Song (1982), but none of these really changed his image. He tried to produce an autobiographical film called Rock Garden about his days as a singer in 1958 but was unsuccessful. He is still singing and acting today.
Looking back, Frankie Avalon never got his due as an actor. His movies were routinely dismissed as flimsy, his performances rarely accorded anything approaching serious analysis. But having seen a bunch of beach party movies from this time, we are convinced that Avalon was one of the key, if not the key, ingredient in making them come alive with his big, high energy persona (not to mention genuine all around ability in terms of singing, acting and dancing). Compare his contribution to other male leads – James Stacy, Fabian, Tab Hunter, Edd Byrnes, Tommy Kirk. The only one that matched Avalon for star power was Elvis.
His drawback as a performer – and this was 100% not his fault and nothing Avalon could have done about it – is that he had a very contemporary, broad, comic persona and appearance. His hair, manner, aura, just gave off that “vibe”. This made Avalon stick out in serious dramas and historical epics. Fabian had a less individual persona than Avalon, but he was more versatile as an actor.
This wasn’t Avalon’s fault – it was simply his great strength as a performer (his individuality), was limiting for him as a movie star. His best chance at extending his time as an acting star (not “actor”, “acting star”) may have been to go work for Disney, on a TV sitcom/variety show, or on Broadway.
Still, looking back, Avalon has impressive and interesting credits – not just the nostalgia ones (Grease, Back to the Beach) and the beach party series, but films like Panic in the Year Zero, and Dr Goldfoot. He is definitely someone who deserves more respect.
