Harum Scarum (1965)

We open on a damsel in distress, staked out in front of a hungry leopard, somewhere deep in the desert. Won't anyone save her?!?

Enter, stage left, our Arabian hero, who, after a little swordplay, quickly works his martial arts skills on the guards overlooking this tableaux. And then -- with only one deathly chop! -- he takes out the leopard, and thus, saves the day. Hooray! Asked and answered.

With the hard part done, our hero then serenades the girl while freeing her. They kiss, and then the end credits roll.

… Wait! Hold on. Relax. That’s not the whole film. (Essentially, but not quite). No. What we’ve just witnessed was the climax of a special screening of Johnny Tyronne’s latest cinematic epic, Sands of the Desert (-- which sounds like a much better title than Harum Scarum if we’re being honest).

See, at the request of the United States government, the studio behind the picture agreed to hold the world premiere of said film in the capital city of Abulstan to help improve relations between the U.S. and this Middle Eastern country. They also threw in a personal appearance by Tyronne (Presley) to help sell this goodwill gesture.

And so, after thanking everyone for attending, the American ambassador asks Tyronne to perform a song for the gathered dignitaries. (I was kinda hoping for Presley’s take on “Ahab, the Arab” here, but that probably wouldn’t have been appropriate given the circumstances. Nertz.)

Once his number concludes, the ambassador introduces Tyronne to Prince Dragna (Ansara) and his curvy companion, Aishah (Jeffries). They in turn invite the famous movie star to visit their secluded kingdom of Lunacan, which is located beyond the Mountains of the Moon (-- and just left of the Burning Bush). 

Here, with the ambassador’s urging, the actor / crooner accepts their curious offer to help open “diplomatic relations” with their fabled kingdom. Now all they have to do is get there.

The journey itself will take several days by camel; and after the first hard day of traveling through the desert, the royal caravan comes to a halt and makes camp for the night. 

As things settle, Aishah informs Tyronne that he is a special case as no other westerner has ever entered Lunacan before. She then explains further, saying, for him, it will be like stepping back 2000-years in time.

Then, just as Aishah pours her honored guest a cup of wine and starts putting the moves on him, we can’t help but notice that several nefarious-looking black-robed figures are circling-in on the encampment, daggers drawn; and when Tyronne passes out, the seductress orders the bandits to quietly gather him up and haul him off without alerting the rest of the camp.

Later, when Tyronne finally wakes up, he finds himself in the Garden of Pleasures, surrounded by a harem of beautiful and doting women. Understandably, he celebrates the occasion by singing them a tune about ‘mirages coming to life’ before, ya know, asking questions like, How in the hell did I get here?!

But the answer to this mystery comes quickly enough as several thugs burst in, who then drag our boy before Sinan -- the King of the Assassins (Marcuse). Aishah is present for this interrogation, too, and we finally get the scoop as to what’s going on:

Seems these natives are a little confused and think Tyronne really is a super-assassin “who carries death with his bare hands,” like in his movies. Thus, Sinan has “acquired” the American to assassinate an "important figure" in Lunacan for him. But even though he's offered a lot of money, Tyronne refuses, saying his karate skills are used for self-defense only. And as a practical demonstration Tyronne makes his move, leading to a quick skirmish with the guards. 

But outnumbered and soon overwhelmed, the captive is spared. For Sinan is still sticking with his plan. The assassination is still on, and Tyronne will be his assassin. He then orders his men to ‘persuade’ the obstinate American to see things their way at the end of a whip...

Alright, Fellow Programs. Cue up the drum roll of “C.C. Rider” on your cerebral random-play jukeboxes and punch [Play]. Then break out your old albums, pull on your rhinestone-studded Captain Marvel Jr. jumpsuits, grease your hair up into a concrete pompadour, add more bacon to your peanut butter and ‘nanner sandwiches, and then bring in the horns and crank up the volume because, oh, Mama … This. Is! ELVIS!!! (Bah-DA-BAH! BAH-da-bah. Bah-DA-BAH!)

That’s right. It’s that time of year: January the 8th, meaning it’s time to take another look at another selection from the back catalog of Elvis Presley’s fractured forays into feature film to celebrate his birthday. And this year, we’re going to take a look at one of the Big E’s most fractured film efforts; an Arabian Night adventure gone horribly, horribly wrong by the nonsensical name of Harum Scarum (1965).

From 1962 through 1968, Presley had managed to appear in about three films a year, making him one of the highest paid actors in Hollywood of that period -- mostly by default due to the sheer number of films, and his exorbitant salary, which often ate over half the film’s budget; and don’t forget the dubious back-end profit deals concocted by his manager, Col. Tom Parker.

“Elvis is paid between $600,000 and $1-million in salary for each picture plus a 50-percent share of the profits,” said Peter Bart (The New York Times, November 22, 1964). “Hence in a good year he may earn as much as $5-million, a figure that makes him by far the highest paid movie star in Hollywood history.

 Thomas Andrew Parker (Boo! Hiss!)

In an expose for the Saturday Evening Post, Parker told C. Robert Jennings his personal credo had always been, “Don’t try to explain it, just sell it.” Equal parts P.T. Barnum, Svengali, and Burgess Merideth’s take on the Penguin for Batman ‘66, Parker had yoked his circus wagons onto Presley back in 1955 and had been selling him as a brand since 1956, supplanting his former manager, an in-over-his-head, Bob Neal.

And to protect his investments, Parker also set out to rebrand Presley, transmogrifying him from Elvis the Pelvis and the raw and dangerous sounds of “Let's Play House” to a clean-cut crooner of ballads like “Can’t Help Falling in Love (With You).” It was Parker who negotiated a seven picture deal with Hal Wallis and Paramount Pictures, officially launching his client’s movie career with Love Me Tender (1956), which, by King Creole (1958), showed the singer had the genuine chops to make it as a dramatic actor.

But looking at the wilting box-office returns of Flaming Star (1960) and Wild in the Country (1961), it was also Parker, whispering into Presley’s ear, who said audiences didn’t want to see his client acting as other people but only wanted to see him be Elvis Presley in musical comedies like G.I. Blues (1960) and Blue Hawaii (1961), with each of those selling nearly twice as many tickets as the other two aforementioned dramatic films.

Thus, Presley officially entered what I like to call his Travelogue or Action-Man phase of his post-service acting career, where he would basically play himself plugged into different exotic playsets with the appropriate accessory pack over and over and over again in films ranging from Follow that Dream (1962) to It Happened at the World’s Fair (1963) to Fun in Acapulco (1963).

Meanwhile, Parker, ever the wheeler-dealer, was showing the sawdust in his veins, working to bilk his star for all he was worth, negotiating separate deals with other studios to keep the money rolling in -- the most lucrative coming from MGM.

Now remember, on top of his star’s exorbitant salaries, Parker would collect a fee as a creative consultant and promoter. He would also negotiate his way into half of the film’s profits once all expenditures were accounted for. Thus, Parker went out of his way to keep production costs down at, well, all costs, to chisel as much as he could out of the back-end of all these films. His end game? A million dollar payday for his client, upfront, with a continued share of profits on the box-office. Ergo, the cheaper the film, the bigger the profit share.

(I said, "Boo! Hiss!)

Allan Weiss was responsible for the majority of the scripts during this period, who helped cement the formula of slapstick, traveling-matte shenanigans, and a song every seven minutes. Quick and cheap and all according to Parker and Wallis’s specifications. “Wallis [purposefully] kept the screenplays shallow,” said Weiss in a later interview for Peter Guralnick’s exhaustive, two volume biography on Presley, Last Train to Memphis: The Making of Elvis Presley (1994) and Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley (1998). “I was asked to create a believable framework for twelve songs and lots of girls” and not much else.

Parker would pull these same shenanigans on the soundtrack albums, too. According to the Bart article, Parker admitted that, somewhat bafflingly, his camp did not require script approval but reserved the right to choose all the songs for each film, which allowed him to also tap into the lucrative side of publishing rights on the soundtracks.

Remember, too, aside from a trio of charity events back in 1961, until his Comeback Special in 1968, with Parker not wanting him over-exposed, Presley never performed live or went out on tour -- at all! And the only records he released during this same period, aside from a few gospel albums, were those soundtracks. And, again, thanks to Parker’s spend-thrift tactics when it came to hiring talent, this led to some pretty dour songwriting output that put up little defense against the pending British Invasion.

And if you think all of that is counterintuitive and self-sabotaging, well, you’d be right. But all Parker was concerned about was making the next deal, milking his client and bilking studios for all he could before it all came to its inevitable end. And yet in the middle of Presley's chaotic film career, there was a brief glimmer of hope for his client that, alas, proved fleeting.

1964 would prove the crucible year for Presley’s film career. For in Viva Las Vegas (1964), the talent matched his both on screen with Ann-Margret and off as Jack Cummings and George Sidney ran circles around the ever-meddling Parker, resulting in Presley’s best picture both critically and commercially. But while Viva Las Vegas made a ton of money, it also cost a lot more to produce as it went way over-budget, cutting into Parker’s profit margins.

Thus, for the next MGM picture, Kissin’ Cousins (1964), Parker eschewed any MGM talent and conspired to bring in Sam Katzman to produce it. Katzman was a notorious industry legend for his cheapness -- Cannibal Attack (1954), The Giant Claw (1957), and it's on full display in this slack-jawed hootenanny. If you’ve ever wanted to see an MGM barn-burning musical on a Katzman budget, well, here ya go.

Meanwhile, even though it went into production after Viva Las Vegas had wrapped, Kissin’ Cousins would beat it into theaters. According to Variety, Viva Las Vegas came in at number 11 for best box-office that year, bringing in $4.6-million. Kissin’ Cousins, however, ended up at number 26 with $2.8 million. But despite making more money, Viva Las Vegas made less of a profit. Do the crooked math from there, Fellow Programs.

And so, sadly, Presley would never again be surrounded by the caliber of talent he had on Viva Las Vegas. As Variety put it, Hollywood had learned its lesson as far as Presley pictures go with Kissin’ Cousins: “Do it on a dime, fast as you can, and for Presley fans only.”

Then, to round out the year, the shit kinda hit the fan behind the scenes during the production of Roustabout (1964) for Wallis and Paramount. We already covered this in an earlier review, but to sum up: Parker knew his client wasn’t happy with how his film career had essentially cratered and made a token effort to appease him; and then Wallis made things infinitely worse with the publication of an interview where he essentially threw Presley and his pictures under a bus -- even though they made the money that allowed him to make Oscar-bait films like Becket (1964). And from then on, to my eye, Presley had kinda checked out as an actor -- especially in the subsequent Paramount films for Wallis.

Parker tried to assuage his star and shore things up for his next feature by striking one helluva deal with the floundering Allied Artists. He didn’t quite get his million dollars for Tickle Me (1965) but he found a new way to profiteer by cutting even more costs upfront by not commissioning or recording any new material for the film’s soundtrack. The film itself was pretty silly and a bit schizophrenic with a plot that required both a dude-ranch / fat farm and a haunted ghost town. But it proved to be a huge hit and (allegedly) saved Allied Artists from bankruptcy.

And with that solid financial rebound it was then back to MGM for Presley’s most meta film to date, where he basically played himself as a movie star based on himself in Harum Scarum. The film would reunite Parker, Katzman and Kissin’ Cousins director Gene Nelson. Now all Parker had to do was get his client on board, which wasn’t going to be easy due to Presley’s current mood. For you see, Parker’s apparently preternatural stranglehold over his one and only client was starting to show a few cracks.

At that point in his life, Presley was so disillusioned professionally and internally lost personally, he was ready to chuck it all and join a monastery, just like his former Loving You (1957) costar Dolores Hart, who had turned her back on Hollywood and became a cloistered nun in 1963 after starring in features like Where the Boys Are (1960) and Come Fly with Me (1963).

It was also around this time that Presley needed himself a new hairdresser. See, when Presley was gearing up for Roustabout, the studio had dictated they needed to do something different with his hair, saying his trademark pompadour had looked atrocious in Viva Las Vegas (-- full disclosure, this was a fair assessment). And so, through this fickle hand of fate, this studio demand ultimately led to Presley’s salvation -- at least temporarily.

“On April 30, 1964, I was working in my booth at Jay Sebring’s salon, cutting and styling the hair of my close friend, the singer Johnny Rivers, when my phone rang,” said Larry Geller in his book, If I Can Dream: Elvis’s Own Story (1989), which was based on his personal diary and conversations he had with Presley over the years. “The caller identified himself as Alan Fortas, a member of Elvis Presley’s entourage. He explained that Elvis’ current stylist, Sal Orifice, wouldn’t be working with him anymore and Sal had recommended me.”

 Larry Geller (Right).

A native of Hollywood, California, Geller was 25 at the time and he had technically met Elvis Presley once before. As a teenager back in 1957, while trying to sneak into one of Presley’s concert venues without a ticket, this eventually led them to a stage door, where Geller spotted the singer lingering outside. And while his friends chickened out, Geller approached Presley, introduced himself, and managed to get a cordial handshake before his entourage hustled him into the building.

Now, Geller’s father was a musician, and while he had hoped to follow the old man into the entertainment industry, he soon found himself at a dead end on that front. Thus, he went with Plan B, dropped out of college, went to beautician and cosmetic school, and became a hairstylist. Upon graduating, he went to work for Sebring, who opened an exclusive hair salon for men in 1959, revolutionizing the business, which catered to famous clientele like Frank Sinatra, Paul Newman, Marlon Brando, Warren Beatty and Steve McQueen. (Persistent rumors also stated the salon was a front to distribute narcotics to their customers.)

Jay Sebring (Left), Paul Newman (Right).

And so, Geller would have a reunion with Presley when he made a house call at his new client’s Bel-Air home on Perugia Way, where the singer stayed while filming his movies-- in this case, Roustabout.

Said Gellar, “Entering the large modern house, I heard someone say, ‘Hey, man, I’ll be right with you,’ in a familiar southern drawl … Elvis seemed larger than life -- more animated, more powerful in some ways than any of the hundreds of stars I knew. The word ‘charisma’ falls short of describing his magnetism and charm. It was as if he possessed some inexhaustible supply of energy he was compelled to burn.”

Geller and Presley then retired to the bathroom so he could work on his hair. As he commenced, “Elvis sat quietly watching me, concentrating on something, his steely blue eyes following my every move.” This went on for about an hour until Geller finished. But after Presley complimented him on his efforts, he said, “Larry, let me ask you something. Sal told me you’re an interesting guy. What are you into?”

Geller hesitated for a moment, because he didn’t expect Presley to know of subjects like Scientology, yoga, and mysticism. Measuring his response, he finally said, “Outside of my vocation, my main interest, which I am dedicated to, is my search for God and a greater understanding of myself … Is there a purpose to all of this, or are the materialists and atheists right? Is the universe and all of life a mere accident? How did the products of the Big Bang evolve and differentiate into an animal kingdom, a vegetable kingdom and a human kingdom, all incredibly related, all moving forward together on this mud ball called Earth? What is my purpose in all of this?”

To find an answer, “I’ve read and studied a lot of spiritual and metaphysical books, and I’ve learned how to meditate through practicing yoga … It doesn’t matter to me if it takes years or a lifetime. That’s what we’re born to do. In fact, the very act of perceiving life from that perspective only enhances the quality of all aspects of our lives -- our relationships with others, with ourselves, our careers, everything. To put it simply,” concluded Geller, “I’m seeking out my purpose in living.”

The hairstylist had no idea that what he had just said was right in Presley’s wheelhouse, and how he was searching for the same kind of answers. The mega-star had always struggled with the survivors' guilt over why he had lived while his twin brother, Jesse Garon, had died at birth; the lingering grief over the loss of his mother; his stagnating career; his reason for being; and his own mortality; a fear of missing out on the ultimate salvation and being turned away from Heaven due to a technicality over belonging to the wrong faith or denomination, leading him to embracing ecumenicism.

It was a thunderclap moment. “Why me? Why was I plucked,” Presley confided in Geller. “From millions and millions of lives, why me? Why was I picked to be Elvis Presley? I mean, there’s gotta be a reason, a purpose, as to why I was chosen … I’ve always felt an unseen hand behind me, guiding my life. I mean, there has to be a purpose.” Presley then finished this tearful epiphany by admitting, “I swear to God, no one knows how lonely I get. And how empty I really feel.”

From there, as Geller later related to David Adams (Elvis Australia, October 30, 2003), “We engaged in a deep conversation concerning religion, spiritual growth, Elvis' early life, his mother and father, his twin brother, the church he attended in Tupelo and other very intimate subjects. This was surprising and significant, considering we had just met -- and he was Elvis Presley, and I a stranger, who had been referred to him for professional reasons. Well, during that conversation something clicked between us. I was fortunate enough to be at the right place at the right time, and not only could I style hair, which Elvis required, I was also interested in and had studied subjects that were close to Elvis' heart, subjects that related to his inner desire to learn and grow spiritually. He was more than eager to expand his horizon, and a combination of forces came together that afternoon that eventually changed both our lives.

“Elvis was such an intelligent person, light years beyond his world-wide persona," Geller told Adams. “He had an inquisitive mind, always probing, always digging, attempting to understand his place in the universe, and above all, his unique role and position in this world, and just exactly how 'Elvis Presley' fit into the scheme of things. For years he struggled with this dilemma. He was so sincere, always aiming to do his best. He would be the first to admit that he was flawed, had weaknesses, and fell many, many times, and in ways that most people couldn't conceive of. But to me, what truly distinguishes a winner, a person of true character, is that he picks himself up, and fights against his basest nature, striving to do good.”

Sequestered in the bathroom alone, their conversation had gone on for several hours before someone finally came looking for them. And as Geller packed up to leave, Presley came to a fateful decision and hired him on the spot to come work for him full time. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

Thus, Presley not only had himself a new hair stylist but his own personal guru and spiritual advisor. But when things shifted back to Memphis, there was strong resistance from the rest of the Memphis Mafia as he tried to integrate into the insular group.

You see, Presley’s entourage had a defined pecking order that was constantly marred by those looking to move up. There had been a recent schism at the very top, too, which ended with Joe Espisito quitting for a period, with Marty Lacker moving up to fill the void. But now Geller was the chosen one, who had the boss’s ear, and the others felt he hadn’t put his time in yet. Not helping matters was that Geller's chosen faith was Jewish, who faced the same uphill climb as another recent addition, Jerry Schilling, who was Catholic -- both lost in a sea of Southern Baptists.

“From my point of view, I've read and heard so many distorted stories, and gross judgements concerning the people Elvis surrounded himself with,” Geller told Adams. “Naturally in any group, especially people who are connected with a person of power and wealth, there are people who are shallow, who are yes men, and in plain terms users. When you consider we're talking about Elvis Presley, the greatest star who ever lived, of course that existed to some degree around him. And I'm particularly critical of a few people.

“On the other hand, Elvis did have some genuine friends, a few who knew him beyond the image, who related to him as a human being, not just 'Elvis'. They would have given their lives for him. Of course, we all perceive and relate to one another according to our capacity and our own individual evolution as human beings. What I'm saying here is that some were closer than others, and some knew and understood him on a deeper level than others.”

Meanwhile, Presley devoured everything Geller gave him to read to the consternation of everyone else. And from Priscilla on down, everyone was blaming Geller over how Presley became so obsessed with finding answers to the unanswerable the usual parties and shenanigans were put on hiatus because he, and I quote (Guralnick, 1998), “Was going through a cleansing period, physically and spiritually.” And any physical temptations at the time “were against everything he was striving for.” He was hoping for a sign; a sign that would unlock everything.

But by March of 1965, on the road back to Hollywood to begin pre-production on Harum Scarum, Presley’s caravan made an unscheduled pit-stop in Amarillo, Texas, where he holed-up in a motel (-- Presley would not purchase his own private plane until 1975, and would usually drive between California and Tennessee between features). By now, his patience had worn thin and he had it out with Geller, saying (Guralnick, 1998), “Just tell me the damned truth, man. What am I doing wrong? What’s wrong with me? Maybe God doesn’t love me or something. All I want is to know the truth, to know and experience God. I’m a searcher, that’s what I am all about. You woke that up in me, and ever since I started, I haven’t had one experience -- nothing. I really believe in all the spiritual teachings. I really believe, only nothing happens, and I want it to. I want it so bad. What the hell is wrong?!”

Geller did his best to talk him down, saying, in a sense, God requires a lot of patience, an open mind, and understanding; how he needed to drop his ego and stop expecting easy answers, and to carve out room for God to enter. The journey was the important part, promised Geller, and the ending would take care of itself. Presley was satisfied with these answers, but as their journey continued, leading them through the deserts of New Mexico and Arizona, things got a little … weird.

Straight from the files of You Can’t Make This Shit Up (-- later corroborated by Geller and Guralnick, who we are quoting from), somewhere outside of Flagstaff, Arizona, above the sacred mountains of the Hopi tribe, Presley, who was driving, suddenly slammed on the brakes, and pointed to the horizon, asking, “Do you see what I see?” On the horizon was a lone cloud billowing up in a clear blue sky. And in that cloud was a face. The face of -- wait for it! -- Joseph Stalin!

Uncle Joe.

“Why Stalin,” demanded Presley. “Of all people, what’s he doing up there?!” Geller witnessed this atmospheric phenomenon, too, before the cloud shifted and the image melted away.

Said Geller, “I knew we had witnessed something extraordinary and turned to say so, but stopped when I saw Elvis, staring into the cloud, his eyes opened wide and his face reflecting wonder … His expression was the one that you read of in the Bible or other religious works: the look of the newly baptized or the converted. He appeared so peaceful, so accepting, so open, so happy. It was something I had never seen before and I would never see again.” Over a beatific vision of Stalin?! Even Estus Pirkle would find that a little far-fetched. Well, not quite. Keep reading.

Presley then bolted from the caravan, out into the desert on foot. When Geller finally caught up with him, he found Presley in tears -- for he had seen something that Geller had not. Here, Presley claimed that before the cloud dissipated, it morphed from Stalin into the visage of Jesus Christ, who smiled at him before evaporating into the ether. And with that, Presley had finally received the sign he was looking for.

“He finally realized why he was chosen,” Geller told Adams. “It seems so simple, yet sometimes what is staring us in the face is what eludes us. Elvis attributed his talent and success to pure blessings from God. For quite some time he didn't know how or what direction and form that should take. He recognized as a three year old sitting on his mom's lap in church, that he wanted to sing. He would want to jump off her lap, run down the aisle and join the choir and sing his heart out. Elvis said 'Singing and entertaining people, making them happy and bringing some joy into their lives is what I'm all about'. He knew that was his mission in life, his ultimate destiny.”

 

 

Rudolph Valentino (The Sheik, 1921).

 

Now, Parker wasn’t much of a fan of Geller either, feeling he was some kind of con-artist. (And he would know, right?) Thus, he would keep close tabs on him through several mafia members, who didn’t like him either and gladly spied for the Colonel. Presley, meanwhile, put the idea of joining a monastery on hold and attacked his latest film with a renewed vigor; and during the costume fittings he became quite excited as his new accouterments reminded him of the legendary Rudolph Valentino and The Sheik (1921). 

Seems Presley thought he was a ringer for Valentino, another sex symbol from the silent era of films, and would wear the headpiece home and keep it on around the house in Bel-Air.

But this enthusiasm soon took a lot of hit damage when he finally went over the script and found it was, essentially, the same hackneyed story as the last five movies with just a new set-dressing. He’d felt betrayed over this as he had been led to believe this was going to be a more dramatic role. He was also disgusted to learn that Parker and Katzman had once again limited shooting to only 15-days.

And you know we’re all in trouble early as the film manages to cram in three songs in the first ten minutes. And the title song -- “Harem Holiday” -- makes for a much better title. Harum Scarum was slang from a long bygone era, which referred to either a wild fight, an unsettled person, or to act irresponsibly, impetuously, or recklessly. Hrrrmmm. On second thought, the title is perfect. Everything else, well, not so much.

The soundtrack would be the only original component in the feature as sets were leftovers from some Cecile B. Demille epic and the costumes and props were all recycled from Lady of the Tropics (1939) and Kismet (1955). And the Simi Hills of the Iverson Ranch would sub in for the virgin deserts of Lunacan, where life was as cheap as the false facades of the majority of buildings and castle walls.

Said Guralnick, “Whatever enthusiasm he felt pretty much evaporated on the first day of shooting, as it became instantly clear that the story was a joke, the sets shoddy, even Nelson was apologetic about the haste and slapdash quality of the production.”

Thus, we can also assume there wasn’t enough time or budget (or both) to actually see Tyronne’s torture session as we immediately cut back to the Garden of Pleasures, where his back wounds are being treated by the same girls he met before.

Then, out of nowhere, out pops Zacha -- con-man, coward, comedy relief, and Tyronne’s new best friend, apparently. Here, Zacha (Novello) only agrees to help the prisoner escape after he’s offered an ample enough reward of $10,000 to overcompensate for his inherent cowardice. He will also keep a running tab on any services rendered on top of that fee for the duration of the film.

Meanwhile, Prince Dragna returns to the Royal Palace in Lunacan and reports to his brother, King Toranshah (Reed), that his caravan was raided and their American guest was kidnapped. Fearing Sinan was behind this, and up to no good, Dragna encourages his brother to hide out until the danger has passed. A reluctant Toranshah is eventually persuaded, and agrees to retreat to his summer palace as soon as the Fast of Ramadan is over. But just as a precaution, he will send his daughter, Shalimar, there right away.

Back at the Garden of Pleasures, during the changing of the guards, Zacha springs a soggy Tyronne (-- don't ask), but the alarm is soon sounded. Now, as the two split-up to lose their pursuers, and Zacha tells his new companion to meet him later at the Pool of Omar, you, like me, are probably wondering: How is Tyronne supposed to even know where that is?!

Regardless of the lack of directions, after eluding the guards by scaling over another large stone wall, Tyronne falls into a pond on the other side. When he surfaces, he is greeted by Shalimar (Mobley) from her floating gazebo.

Apparently, Tyronne has had the good fortune of climbing into that aforementioned summer palace. Now, for some reason, Shalimar decides to hide her royal heritage and introduces herself as a simple slave girl. And while listening to his whopper of a tale about being kidnapped by Sinan and his assassins, Shalimar is soon smitten by the American and agrees to take him to the Pool of Omar.

Well, turns out these romantic inklings are mutual as Tyronne is already offering to ‘liberate’ Shalimar and take her back to Hollywood with him. She loves this plan, and assures they will be able to convince her ‘master’ to let her go. Thus, by the time they reach their destination, he’s in full serenade mode, which ends in an extended kiss.

When they finally come up for some air, the Princess finally gets around to asking Tyronne why Sinan abducted him. Then, things take a left turn when Tyronne reveals Sinan wanted to coerce him into assassinating someone. Here, Shalimar automatically assumes this “important figure” to be her father, panics, and then takes the horses they borrowed and rides off, leaving a dumbfounded Tyronne behind.

After making it back to the palace, Shalimar warns her father of Sinan’s plans, prompting King Toranshah to send Dragna and the Royal Guards to roust out and expunge the assassin guild.

Back at the Pool of Omar, Zacha finally shows up and the news isn’t good. Since there are only two passages out of Lunacan, and knowing the Assassins will be watching them both, the cowardly thief realizes the only chance of getting Tyronne out of the country is to disguise him as a performer in his troupe of dancers and musicians -- all he has to do is pass an audition first. [Insert Eye-Roll Here.]

Once Tyronne is introduced to Zacha’s troupe, we then get an extended belly-dancing sequence as three of Zacha's daughters shake their booty and tambourines all over the town square. As Tyronne soaks this all in, Zacha reveals they’re mostly a distraction so Baba (Barty), his diminutive master thief, can sneak among the crowd and pick some pockets.

Wasting no time, Tyronne takes up a tambourine and introduces the citizens of Lunacan to a little rock ‘n’ roll. Somewhat amazingly, the crowd is pretty receptive until someone catches Baba stealing a coin sack, and then all hell breaks loose.

But as Zacha's group scatters, Tyronne is left behind to chop and sock his way out of the kasbah, where he gets some timely help from a couple of street urchins armed with slingshots. These young ones then lead our boy to a secret lair inside the Palace of Jackals, where, turns out, those urchins were Zacha's children, too -- in truth, orphans that he took in. Tyronne is pleased to meet them, but all he really wants is to find Shalimar and get the heck out of Lunacan.

With that, the whole troupe begs their honored guest to take them back to America, too; and when one of the little orphan girl steps up, swearing she can pull her own weight, and starts to do the Hully-Gully, Tyronne gets such a big kick out of this he starts serenading her. (Slow down, man. She’s a little young there, E.)

Thus and so, after a wild night of singing and dancing, the gang hits the sack. Alas, it wasn’t meant to last as the evil Aishah wakes Tyronne up the following morning, and he discovers their hideout is now filled with Assassins. 

Thinking Zacha has sold him out, Aishah lets the cowardly thief off the hook, revealing they’ve been following them since his escape. She also demands that he obey Sinan and kill the King or all of Zacha’s orphans will die.

Meanwhile, at the palace, Shalimar is dreaming of her new boyfriend; and as his reflection sings to her from the royal bathtub, her handmaiden enters and comments how the Princess has the look of love about her. Confessing her affections for the American, Shalimar fears she will never see him again. Hell, he doesn’t even know she’s a Princess because, to her, if he did, they never would’ve gotten past first base, explaining why she kept that a secret.

Elsewhere, when the Royal Guard returns empty handed, Captain Herat (Chance) warns the King that someone in the palace must have tipped-off Sinan, meaning there’s a traitor in their midst and they’ll have to be doubly careful from now on. And, Hey! Has anybody seen Dragna lately? 

Also of note, the celebration marking the end of Ramadan has arrived; and as a familiar dance troupe entertains the Royal Court, hiding under a hooded cloak, Tyronne lurks in the background. Nearby, Zacha whines that his friend must kill the King or they will all be dead. And so, Tyronne approaches the throne.

Here, Shalimar recognizes him and screams a warning. Caught, Tyronne swears he only wanted to talk but the entire troupe is seized and thrown in the dungeon.

Luckily for them, the guards overlook the diminutive Baba; and while the little guy engineers their escape from the outside, Tyronne sings the blues from inside his cell. Worried about the younger kids, Tyronne is told by Zacha that he should be more worried about the 'Death of a Thousand Cuts' that awaits him for trying to kill the King.

Suddenly, they hear someone unlocking the door and Johnny leaps into an ambush position. Ready to strike, when the door opens, he swings at the expected guard but just swipes at the air where a head should be, corkscrewing himself -- for he has swung right over the top of Baba, who already took out all the guards. (And that was the film's funniest scene. Well, the only funny scene, actually...)

While the others escape, Tyronne and Baba sneak back into the palace proper to talk to King Toranshah. Finding him in Shalimar’s room, where she’s blubbering over her American boyfriend who just tried to kill her dad, Tyronne jumps in and begs to explain. When they agree to listen, he reveals how Sinan is holding the kids hostage at the Palace of the Jackals; and unless he kills the King, they’ll be killed instead. The King, being a stand up guy, agrees to help; but first they must expose the traitor -- and he has a plan!

The next morning, the alarm sounds and Captain Herat reports to Dragna that the King is missing and his royal bed is torn apart and covered in blood. As Dragna orders him to search the city, Tyronne, Shalimar, Baba and the King sneak into the Palace of the Jackals but discover the Assassins have already beaten them there and have recaptured Zacha’s entire troupe.

Here, as they secretly watch, Sinan receives word that the King is dead; he then demands payment from the man who hired him for services rendered.

Now, it isn't much of a surprise when Dragna comes forward to settle up. Ah, but the evil assassin then pulls a double-cross, informing Dragna that he will only be a puppet ruler and Sinan will be the one calling the shots -- it seems Sinan has made a deal with some foreign company to exploit Lunacan’s untapped oil reservoirs. And if Dragna refuses to be his puppet, well, then, he will just kill him, too.

Naturally, Dragna agrees to keep his head. Aishah then takes the Prince back to the palace, where she will keep an eye on him, which just leaves a few loose ends. And since Zacha's people know too much to live, Sinan orders his men to kill them all.

With that, Tyronne charges to the rescue and gets the head assassin in a chokehold. Ordering Sinan to call off his men or he'll snap his neck, the villain capitulates but warns that none of them will ever make it to the safety of the palace alive. Zacha, however, assures that he has plenty of friends and relatives who will fight for the King -- for the right price.

Throwing Sinan into a handy cart, the small group rolls out into the darkened streets of Lunacan, where, using a variety of signals, Zacha rousts out his army of thieves. And as they make their way to the main square and stake Sinan out, the other Assassins attack and a nasty street fight erupts.

Between blows, Tyronne orders the King to take cover but he refuses; and with his trusty scimitar, heads off to the palace to find the treacherous Dragna. 

Then, with all the deadly and diabolical drama of an old Keystone Cop short, the massive fight eventually peters out when Sinan is dubiously killed by one of his own men.

Without their leader, the other Assassins are quickly routed and victory belongs to the good guys. Marshaling their forces, they head to the palace to help the King. But when they break into the throne room, they find him and Dragna locked in a deadly game of … chess? (The hell?) 

To explain, the King tells Johnny that even though Dragna is a traitor, he’s still his brother; and so decrees the Prince and Aishah will be banished to the nether-lands, and Lunacan will open official diplomatic channels with the U.S. of A.

With that, we quickly switch venues to Las Vegas and the premiere of Johnny Tyronne’s new musical show -- and he’s brought Zacha and his entire troupe to America to be part of his revamped act. In the audience, the King and Shalimar look on approvingly, Zacha is having no luck with the slots, while Baba is cleaning out the house. When the last number ends, Johnny heads out into the audience, where he and Shalimar kiss.

Harum Scarum would prove to be Parker’s one and only million dollar payday. A fleeting victory as all of his poor decisions were about to come back and bite a sizable chunk out of his plump posterior.

Assessing his client’s growing displeasure, Parker quickly tried to shore things up but it was too little, too late. And upon viewing a rough cut of the finished film, Parker found the end result so dire he demanded that inserts with a talking camel be added to punch up the comedy aspects of the film and then sell it as a parody. And while the idea was ignored, this talking camel would show up in the ad-mats for Harum Scarum.

The Grand Island Independent (October, 1965).

The script was penned by Gerald Drayson Adams, who was another holdover from Kissin’ Cousins. Drayson had bounced around Hollywood since selling his first script back in 1941, a romantic comedy vehicle for George Murphy and Lucille Ball called A Girl, a Guy, and a Gob (1941) -- unsure if Murphy was the Guy or the Gob.

From there it was a lot of Audie Murphy vehicles and B-westerns, but he was no stranger to Far East adventures with the likes of The Desert Hawk (1950), The Prince Who Was a Thief (1951), Flame of Araby (1951), Son of Ali Baba (1952), and Princess of the Nile (1954) on his resume. But all of those were vehicles for the likes of Tony Curtis, Jeff Chandler and Maureen O’Hara for studios like Universal and 20th Century Fox with concurring budgets.

Katzman was no stranger to this kind of adventure or historical epic -- William Castle did a bunch for him and his Four Leaf Productions: Serpent of the Nile (1953), Slaves of Babylon (1953), Charge of the Lancers (1954) and The Saracen Blade (1954). Castle always referred to them as "two years in the planning, ten days in the shooting," and all of them come off as SCTV sketch parodies to modern viewers. Presley could hold his own with slapstick, but parody? Not so much.

On top of the clunky and misfiring narrative, the film itself just looks bad on a technical level -- both cheap and shoddy and rushed. We’ll cut both director Nelson and cinematographer Fred Jackman some slack on this over the time crunch and lack of budget, which led to a film plagued by poor staging and bad lighting, with shadows obscuring faces constantly due to missed marks. But with no time or money to shoot it again, it all wound up in the picture.

But the film is also pretty lifeless, even the fights are lackluster, where Presley once again performed most of his stunts -- not helped by the “derp” factor being cranked-up well past the factory specs. Here, things got so bad, even the fauna started to rebel.

According to a brief blurb in The Pittsburgh Press (December 21, 1956), “Elvis Presley doesn’t normally have to face vocal competition in his movies, but he got some in his new MGM tuner, Harum Scarum -- from a peacock. A number of the colorful birds were placed in an Arabian garden set in which Presley sings to a group of Harem beauties. One particular peacock became carried away with the song and repeatedly joined in on the chorus. When a peacock sings, it is more of an eerie shriek than a melody, so director Gene Nelson had to give this one “the bird” and had it replaced with a potted plant.” One can only assume the bird was a leftover from one of Katzman’s Jungle Jim adventures and was demanding to see his agent.

Presley got along fine with Nelson. He wasn’t the problem. When the film wrapped, Presley gifted him a watch with an autographed picture that read, “Someday we’ll do it right.”

Nelson was probably best known for playing Will Parker in the film adaptation of Oklahoma (1955) before an on-set accident derailed his acting career and moved him into the director’s chair. His first feature was Hand of Death (1962), a strange little bugaboo of a monster movie, whose production tale proved far more interesting than the film itself. This was followed up by the musical showcase Hootenanny Hoot (1963). Then Kissin’ Cousins and Harum Scarum, which would be Nelson’s last feature film, who would then close out his career directing for episodic television and a few telefilms.

In front of the camera, you can sense Presley’s interest waning as the shooting dragged on. He was splitting time, too, as when he wasn’t on set he would be ensconced at the Self-Realization Fellowship’s Lake Shrine retreat in the Pacific Palisades, which was founded in 1920 by Paramahansa Yogananda, a Hindu yogi / holy man, where he continued to work on his spiritual reawakening.

I’ve mentioned this in other reviews about how director Norman Taurog always seemed to bring the most out of Presley during these mindless comedies -- he directed nine in total, including Blue Hawaii, Girls! Girls! Girls! (1962), Tickle Me and Spinout (1966). But I don’t know if even he could salvage anything here.

Like J. Caroll Naish, Jay Novello was a bit of a chameleon over his career, playing all sorts of types and ethnicity. He comes off pretty well as the cowardly comedy relief, aided and abetted greatly by the always welcomed presence of Billy Barty, who really hams things up as the mischievous Baba, stealing every scene he’s in.

As the femme fatale, Fran Jeffries was another singer turned actor. Her first feature was a bit part in The Buccaneer (1958) and she was just coming off supporting roles in The Pink Panther (1963) and Sex and the Single Girl (1964) before taking the role of Aishah in Harum Scarum. Wish she had more screen time as her chemistry with Presley actually comes off a little better than what he managed with the film’s heroine.

Chosen as Miss America in 1959, Mary Ann Mobley was one of the few honaries to make a successful transition into an acting career (-- along with the likes of Lee Meriwether, Phyllis George and Vanessa Williams). Though she did run into some bad luck, losing out roles as The Girl from U.N.C.L.E. to Stephanie Powers and as Batgirl to Yvonne Craig, she managed to maintain her career for nearly forty years.

Mobley had already shot Girl Happy (1965) with Presley and the two had hit it off. “Elvis and I felt a common bond, coming from Mississippi,” Mobley told Alanna Nash (Elvis Australia, December 1, 2019). “He thought I understood him. He didn't have to put on airs with me, and I wasn't after anything. This is an odd thing to say about Elvis Presley, but it was like I was working with my brother. We never dated. We were just two people from the same state.”

In the same interview Mobley said she enjoyed making Harum Scarum more than Girl Happy, mostly due to the fanciful wardrobe and lack of swimwear. “Let's face it,” she said. “I never felt comfortable in a swimsuit, whether it was Miss Mississippi or on a set.”

Mobley also claimed the shoot lasted for 28-days, but all the records I found show it was just two weeks. (Maybe she was counting all the wardrobe fittings.) “It was like going to a circus everyday,” said Mobley. “I loved Mr. Sam (Katzman), but Mr. Sam, he knew how to cut costs.”

When she was cast, Katzman asked Mobley if she could ride a horse and was ecstatic that she could -- because that would save him the cost of a stunt-double. Said Mobley, “The horse was no pussycat, however. I go out to the horse and there’s an old wrangler out there, chewin' and whittlin', and he looks up at me with all this orange chiffon on, and he says, 'You ridin' this horse?' And I said, 'Yessir'. And he said, 'Just remember one thing -- it' ain't my idea'. And that horse took off like lightning. That horse never had four feet on the ground the whole time I was riding. Elvis was saying, 'Slow down, Mary Ann'. I thought, 'This is gonna be embarrassing when they peel me off the limb of a tree'.”

Luckily, everyone survived and Mobley came away with an overall positive experience and new lifelong friend. “That was the beginning of our friendship,” said Mobley. “I'll forever be indebted to Elvis. We'd sit around and talk, and we really did have a unique friendship.”

The Record Dispatch (December 15, 1965).

Harum Scarum was slated to be released to theaters on Thanksgiving weekend of 1956, but evidence shows it played in the hinterlands as early as October before moving to larger venues for holiday showings. Parker would admit it was an “artistic debacle” but doubled down, saying to “book it fast, get the money, then try again.” On its east coast tour, it was often double-billed with another industry legend, Godzilla, and his latest entry, Ghidrah, the Three-Headed Monster (alias San Daikaijū Chikyū Saidai no Kessen, alias Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster, 1964). Needless to say, the critics were not amused.

“Once more into the breach goeth Elvis Presley. Once more the breach wins,” said Herb Michelson (Oakland Tribune, November 25, 1965). “Only the hardcore Presley fan will find anything of merit in this one. On the other hand, it might be hoped that the stupidities of Harum Scarum will penetrate the hardcore and send it scurrying off to more fruitful diversions, like planting weeds. And not enough can be said about Elvis -- not enough bad things, that is. Although his singing voice seems to have mellowed (to a tender tenor), his acting tends to get worse. There is a total lack of animation; photographing a statue would offer more flexibility.”

Meanwhile, “Nobody, least of all Elvis, can bring parody to heel in this effort from MGM,” added Margaret Hartford (Los Angeles Times, November 26, 1965). “Presley isn’t Bob Hope and Mary Ann Mobley, beauty winner though she is, won’t pass for Dorothy Lamour. Put them together and you realize right off that Harum Scarum isn’t going to be much fun. The cliches are as repetitious as the songs.”

Said a particularly venomous Joseph Gelmis (Newsday, December 16, 1965), “Shocking news, producer Sam Katzman describes the latest Elvis Presley metrocolor musical as a spoof of an Arabian Nights’ swashbuckler. He says it's the first spoof in the 10-year career of the rock and roll singer. This shakes our critical gyro, since we have always assumed that every Presley film was a parody. Judged as a deliberate spoof, Harum Scarum is the most tragic of the lot.”

And lastly, the most positive review I could find. “If it weren’t for the presence of Elvis Presley in this modest budget Sam Katzman musical, this whole desert mish-mash would be a stultifying movie experience for anyone seeking quality,” said Bob Freund (Fort Lauderdale News, December 10, 1965). “But with Elvis, who in his own way plays it tongue-in-cheek Presley style, Harum Scarum is fun because it can’t take itself seriously. Even Elvis looks like he is having a ball, deciding to ham it up as long as he’s already signed-up to do the role.”

Publicly, Parker didn’t really care what the critics said, feeling his client was bulletproof. For even though their movies always took a critical drubbing, no matter how little they spent on the production, or how shoddy the results, they always made money. Well, that is, they did.

The Los Angeles Times (November 26, 1965).

Yeah, after tallying everything up, Harum Scarum would be the first Presley picture not to make a profit -- another telltale sign that his client was losing his box-office appeal. As the song goes, “The times they are a’changing,” but Parker was not -- more like he didn’t know how.

“Mixing and mingling in his eccentric way with Hollywood’s most exclusive elite, Parker put on a good front to the world,” said Guralnick. “But for the first time his patented combination of carnival sideshow and unassailable conviction was beginning to fray, and his familiar braggadocio was starting to sound more and more like whistling in the dark.”

At the same time, added Guralnick, Parker realized something had gone seriously wrong with Harum Scarum. “With uncharacteristic introspection he felt perhaps more time should be spent on the next picture to ensure a better result. To try and cram everything into a fifteen or eighteen day production period, with the star included in virtually every scene, was, Parker concluded, nothing less than a recipe for disaster.” But this quick, dry fart of a crisis of conscience didn’t last for very long.

Parker always prided himself as always being two steps ahead of everyone else. But he was currently at a loss on the mystical mumbo-jumbo his client had currently found himself mired in. Said Guralnick, “He didn’t want a confrontation with Geller; if he was confident of one thing, it was that Geller would eventually reveal his con, or else Elvis would simply tire of it and move on to something else. In the meantime he would show that he could deliver, just as he always had.”

And that was the problem as Parker kept delivering the same old thing, over and over again, leaving Presley to be lapped several times on the pop-culture front. Parker and Wallis would even give a thinly-veiled poke in the eye at the hokum of Presley’s spiritualism by having him sing “Yoga Is as Yoga Does” -- a daffy duet with Elsa Lanchester, playing a lunatic New Age guru in Easy Come, Easy Go (1967).

And as his client slid into obsolescence on the music scene, worse yet, being demoted to Court Jester on the big screen, Parker’s machine basically ground-up in its own gears as things got cheaper and cheaper still to maintain those fizzling profit margins until it all came to an end with Change of Habit (1969).

"Elvis would joke about the movies,” said Mobley. “When we were making Harum Scarum, he said, 'This isn't going to change history, is it?' The sad thing is that Elvis was a better actor than the movies allowed him to be. He could have been great. I was told that much earlier when Elvis was dating Natalie Wood, the director Elia Kazan offered him the lead opposite Natalie in Splendor in the Grass (1961). And Colonel Parker refused.” 

It’s fairly well known that Barbara Streisand wanted Presley to co-star with her in A Star is Born (1976), but Parker, not wanting his client to play a second banana, asked for too much money. But that wasn’t the only role he missed out on over money issues or his management feeling the part wasn’t right for him, which is why Presley never played a villain or shady character. 

Thus, we can only imagine him in things like The Defiant Ones (1958), Thunder Road (1958), Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1959), The Fugitive Kind (1959), Sweet Bird of Youth (1962), A Walk on the Wild Side (1962), Valley of The Dolls (1967), Midnight Cowboy (1969), co-starring with John Wayne in True Grit (1969), Death Wish (1974), and Being There (1979) -- yeah, I did a double take on that last one, too, but it’s true. 

Instead, we got the same old, same old, which can be enjoyed to a certain point as the goofs they were; but for every Spinout there was a Paradise, Hawaiian Style (1966), Double Trouble (1967) or Charro! (1969). 

Things finally came to loggerheads during the production of Clambake (1967). Sadly, despite the spiritual awakening, Presley was also well on his way to circling the drain over the abuse of prescription medications, having found a new bible with a handbook of pharmaceuticals and their cause and effects. And after two weeks of shooting, under a haze of uppers and downers, Presley collapsed in that very same Bel-Air bathroom and gave himself a concussion.

I think Parker could see it was all falling apart at that point, and perhaps saw it as the beginning of the end with Presley destined to burn out. And so, he dismissed several enabling members of Presley’s entourage and banned Geller outright from the group. Still, with no other clients and having apparently lost the magic touch, he was determined to squeeze and flog everything he could out of his one and only business venture before it crashed and burned. And if that took a blind eye to the drugs, then so be it. And this cycle of use and abuse would continue for another decade, where it all finally culminated and came to its inevitable end in another bathroom at Graceland in August of 1977.

(Seriously. BOOOOOOO!)

Now, I know Parker has his defenders out there, saying we wouldn’t have the Elvis Presley we knew without him. But I often catch myself wondering what kind of Elvis Presley we could’ve had without him? And while the ‘68 Comeback Special, Aloha from Hawaii (1973), the Hilton shows, and those insane road tours are a nice consolation prize, I can’t help but wonder what might’ve been:

A scenario where Presley washed out at Paramount and wound up making pictures for American International and Roger Corman instead. Elvis as The Cry Baby Killer (1958); or trying to score some “M” in The Cool and the Crazy (1958); Elvis competing with Frankie Avalon for Annette Funicello in Beach Blanket Bingo (1965); Elvis talking about how “We wanna be free! We wanna be free to do what we wanna do. We wanna be free to ride!” in The Wild Angels (1966); winning an Oscar for best supporting actor in A Star is Born '76; or how he might’ve lived long enough to fight outlaw bikers with Jackie Chan and then sing a duet with him in The Cannonball Run (1981).

And that’s not even scratching the surface of him evolving musically, and, oh, I don’t know, a few world tours. (For those not in the know, the reason Presley never toured outside the United States was due to some dubious residency issues Parker faced that would not let him back into the country if he ever left.) A harsh lesson on wishing for things you cannot have.

Thus, like with a lot of his later day films, Harum Scarum is a frustrating film experience -- that gets even more frustrating when you unearth all the background and shady dealings that led us all here. And while he still had 12-more films to go, as far as his potential as an actor was concerned, Presley had already left the building. 

Originally posted on January 22, 2001, at 3B Theater.

Harum Scarum (1965) Four-Leaf Productions :: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) / P: Sam Katzman / D: Gene Nelson / W: Gerald Drayson Adams / C: Fred Jackman Jr. / E: Ben Lewis / M: Fred Karger / S: Elvis Presley, Mary Ann Mobley, Fran Jeffries, Michael Ansara, Jay Novello, Theodore Marcuse, Billy Barty