“They try to tell us we’re too young…” That lyric from the
classic Nat King Cole song has special resonance for young Scotty White (Tom
Laughlin) …because the parents of his best girl, Janice Wilson (Rosemary
Howard), have requested that he no longer date her. It’s not that Scotty is an inappropriate
suitor for Jan’s attentions—they just feel that a girl her age (she is sixteen,
going on seventeen—as another song goes) shouldn’t be “going steady.”
Despondent, Scotty cracks under the strain of his teenage
angst and goes on a three-state killing spree.
No, I’m just kidding about this—but he does hook up with a crew of young
lawbreakers more than up to that particular task at his local drive-in. Bill “Cholly” Charters (Peter Miller) and his
gang step in to keep Scotty from taking a right pummeling from some other rough
boys (even though Cholly’s pal Eddy [Richard Bakalyan] is responsible for the
event that snowballed into the fracas), and a grateful Scotty allows Cholly to
help him out with a bit of dating subterfuge: Cholly will masquerade as Jan’s
new boyfriend, and pick her up at her home to take her to the movies. Once they’re out of sight from her folks’
house, Scotty will take the baton from Cholly and continue the date portion of
the evening.
Cholly snows Mr. and Mrs. Wilson (James Lantz, Lotus
Corelli) with a yarn about working as an apprentice stockbroker (that reminds me: I should
probably invest in hoodlum futures), and once he’s collected Jan, he persuades
Scotty to attend a “party” that’s scheduled to be held at a seemingly abandoned
house in the woodsy part of town. Janice
isn’t particularly wild about the idea…and her instincts prove right on the
money: there’s drinking! And
dancing! To raucous hopped-up jazz
music! Why…it’s almost as if this new
crowd that’s adopted our young lovers are…
delinquents!
Before he became the critically-acclaimed director of such
films as MASH (1970), McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971), and Nashville
(1975), Robert Altman held the megaphone on a low-budget teensploitation
flick known as The Delinquents
(1957), filmed in Altman’s hometown of Kansas City, MO (depending on the
source, the budget ranged from $45,000 to $63,000). Motion picture exhibitor Elmer Rhoden, Jr.,
president of the Commonwealth Theaters chain, wanted to reap some of that
sweet, sweet drive-in cash and hired Bob (who had been making industrial films
and docs locally for The Calvin Company) to tackle the project; Altman scouted
locations, cast the film, and cranked out the screenplay (inspired by j.d.
movie successes like The Wild One, Blackboard Jungle, and Rebel Without a Cause) in about a week.
Many of
Delinquents’
actors were local Kansas City-ians of Altman’s acquaintance (his then-wife
Lotus Corelli plays Mrs. Wilson, while their daughter Christine essays the role
of Sissy, Scotty’s kid sister) but Bob and Elmer made a pilgrimage to The
Golden State to find more practiced thespians who could play the three male
leads. Peter Miller, who portrays
Cholly, had not only appeared in
Blackboard
and
Rebel but had on his resume
Forbidden Planet (1956) and
Crime in the Streets (1956). Character veteran Richard “Dick” Bakalyan (as
Eddy) had his first important dramatic film turn in
Delinquents; he would later appear in such films as
Von Ryan’s Express (1965) and
Chinatown
(1975)…but he’s probably best known as “Cookie” in the Walt Disney Studios’ “Dexter
Riley” trilogy:
The Computer Wore Tennis
Shoes (1969—though he’s called “Chillie” in this one),
Now You See Him, Now You Don’t (1972), and
The Strongest Man in the World (1975). (Andrew “Grover” Leal humorously refers to
Dick as Disney’s “Everyhench.”) In
addition, Bakalyan graces the cast of
The
Cool and the Crazy (1958), also produced by Rhoden, Jr. and directed by
TDOY idol William Witney.
The star of
The
Delinquents (as Scotty) was Tom (Tommy) Laughlin—it was not, as previously
reported, his feature film debut (Laughlin was also in
These Wilder Years and
Tea
and Sympathy), but it served as an important launch pad for a motion
picture career that would later be defined by the 1967 biker classic
The
Born Losers and cemented by 1971’s
Billy
Jack (Tom plays the same character in both movies), a film that has an
inexplicable cult following. (Laughlin’s
Billy Jack is a man dedicated to teaching peace and non-violence by beating the
stuffing out of anyone who looks at him cross-eyed.)
Billy
Jack was such a monster box office hit that it led to a slate of
follow-ups:
The Trial of Billy Jack
(1974),
Billy Jack Goes to Washington
(1977),
The Return of Billy Jack (1986), and
Billy Jack at Waikiki (1990).
(Um…I think this last title may be incorrect; I may have it confused
with a “Ma and Pa Kettle” vehicle.) In
later years, Altman might have regretted selecting Laughlin for his movie; the
two repeatedly clashed during the making of
Delinquents, with Bob memorably describing the star as “an unbelievable pain
in the ass.”
Absent the problems with Laughlin, Altman’s film went
smoothly:
The Delinquents was put
together in three weeks, and the finished project was picked up by United
Artists (for $150,000) for distribution, ultimately earning a nice return of $1
million. But Bob wouldn’t look upon his
debut feature with fondness in later years; UA altered the ending and included some
sappy
Crime Does Not Pay-like
narration at the movie’s conclusion, which the director didn’t find out about
until he attended a preview of the movie.
Delinquents played mostly at
drive-ins, but it did attract the notice of The Master of Suspense—who hired
Altman to direct episodes of his TV series,
Alfred Hitchcock Presents
(and that led to future assignments on boob tube classics like
The
Millionaire and
Combat!). Still, when London’s National Film Theatre
put together a retrospective of Altman’s work in January of 2001,
The Delinquents was noticeably absent
(a program note stated that Altman preferred that it not be seen).
Is the movie terrible?
No, it isn’t—unless you have loftier expectations from a drive-in teen
flick. What’s very impressive about
The Delinquents is the level of
professionalism present in such a low-budgeter; Altman demonstrated with this
debut that he was a talent to watch, even though devotees may be disappointed at
the lack of a film signature…save for a free-wheeling party scene that previews
Bob’s fondness for free-wheeling improvisation.
The acting may be amateurish at times (this tends to happen when you use
amateurs) but the black-and-white photography is a standout (cinematographer
Charles Paddock noted that Altman suggested he watch
The Asphalt Jungle to emulate its style) and again, the overall
product is quite polished. (The music
from KC’s own Julia Lee and the Bill Nolan Quintet Minus Two in the opening
nightclub scene is first-rate, too.)
The Delinquents
makes its Blu-ray/DVD debut today, courtesy of Olive Films—“a boutique
theatrical and home entertainment distribution label” (according to the
company) that has made many their releases available to this humble scrap of
the blogosphere (thanks to Bradley Powell) to review from time to time. Fans of Robert Altman (and believe me—there’s
an
army of them out there) will want
to add this to their video shelf so that they can truly appreciate a major filmmaking
talent learning his craft.
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