Monkees vs. Macheen: Head (1968)

“Have It Cleaned and Burned.”

Head was released November 6, 1968, directed by Bob Rafelson, and written by Rafelson and Jack Nicholson. That’s right, Jack freakin’ Nicholson wrote Head. Apparently Nicholson was a huge fan of the film when it was finished. Hey, it’s good to be proud of your work.

According to the book, Monkeemania by Glen A. Baker, Columbia Pictures gave Raybert a $750,000 budget, expecting a teen exploitation film, something very similar to the weekly show. Apparently, this was not what Rafelson or the Monkees had in mind. Rafelson thought he’d never have another chance to direct, so he wanted to emulate every type of Hollywood movie all at once, make a “movie about movies” and expose the showbiz process. The Monkees wanted to direct the film themselves, but Rafelson, Schneider, and Nicholson were against this idea. Instead, they got creative input, resulting in a brainstorming session (on acid) where they put every crazy idea they had for the movie on a tape recorder. Nicholson organized the tapes into a script.

I was confused and disappointed with this movie when I first saw it; if you’re a fan of the show, it’s not the film you’re expecting. I always thought Head could have been a more “adult version” of The Monkees (“bigger, better, longer, and uncut”) and still tackled the same themes: the war protest, killing their pop star image, the plastic and manufactured products of Hollywood, the Media. Perhaps a still subversive but tighter, wittier film with a plot, related to the show but using the more permissive medium of film. On the other hand, if Head had featured a fictional band that was created just for the purposes of this movie, or featured another real-life band of the time, I would have no expectations of what the humor, characters, and story should be like, and I would probably have liked the movie on first viewing. I like weird, surreal, and subversive and I like the themes that Head gets into. There are a lot of funny moments and moments to appreciate in Head.

I. Opening Ceremony

Music: “The Porpoise Song” by Gerry Goffin/Carole King.

The Monkees interrupt an opening ceremony for a bridge, running for their lives through the red ribbon. Micky jumps into the water to escape it all and swims around with some mermaids. The film transitions from Micky underwater to Micky making out with a woman back at the Monkees’ house. She kisses each Monkee in turn. Two lines explain everything. Mike: “Well?” Woman (making a so-so gesture): “Even.” Multiple Monkees have made out with the same girl before, like in “Hillbilly Honeymoon,” but on film, with the slow lingering shots, it feels so much sleazier. Thanks, Bob.

Music: “Ditty Diego-War Chant” by Jack Nicholson/Robert Rafelson.

As the Monkees chant, the screen turns into a multiple televisions, showing various scenes yet to come. The lyrics pretty much spell it all out for the audience:

Hey, hey, we are the Monkees
You know we love to please
A manufactured image
With no philosophies

We hope you like our story
Although there isn’t one
That is to say, there’s many
That way there is more fun…

II. War

Music: “Circle Sky” by Michael Nesmith.

All the televisions fill with an iconic image from the Vietnam war (General Ngoc Loan executing Viet Cong suspect Nguyen Van Lem.) A girl screams but not in horror; she’s at a rock concert with other screaming fans. The next scenes juxtapose images of war, explosions, etc. with scenes of the Monkees performing and the hysterical reactions of the crowd. There’s also a sketch with the Monkees as soldiers, the highpoint of which is Peter running for ammo and getting photographed for the cover of Life magazine. The horrors of war become a media spectacle; Vietnam was known as the first televised war and those images made the war incredibly controversial. Since I’m putting this out on Election Day, and we’re living in such politically charged times, I’ll mention that when Head was released, 50 years ago, it was one day after the election of President Nixon. It was a volatile election year, with the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr, Robert F. Kennedy, and widespread opposition to the Vietnam War.

At the concert, girls rush on stage to tear the Monkees apart. You could replace the Monkees with any hugely popular rock band and the image would still work. There are terrible things, war and tragedy, but all that matters is the Monkees are on stage (or the Stones or Beatles etc.).Once the girls start ripping them to pieces, they are revealed to be mannequins, referring to the notion of them as “manufactured.”

Continuing the television theme, an unseen person flips through the channels of various black and white television and film clips . (the Oliver Stone movie, Natural Born Killers certainly owes a huge debt to Head.)The viewer settles on a scene of Micky stranded in the desert. Dying of thirst, he finds a Coca-Cola machine. Finding it empty, he proceeds to beat the crap out of it. In this scene, look out for William Bagdad (“Everywhere a Sheik, Sheik” ) and Vito Scotti (“The Case of the Missing Monkee”) as an Italian soldier who surrenders his tank and weapon to Micky.

One of the most satisfying moments in Head is Micky blowing up the Coke machine with the tank. With great anti-establishment spirit, he takes down an iconic American corporation. It’s also the fantasy of seeing someone get back at a frustrating situation. The Monkees are caught up in a corporate machine throughout Head; this is one of the rare scenes where they get revenge.

Music: “Can You Dig It?” by Peter Tork.

III. Hollywood

The Monkees loved to satirize, parody, and spoof every type of Hollywood movie genre. Head pretty much rips down the fourth wall, exposing the fakeness of movies with more anger than humor. Among the different genres mocked here are: War, Western, Live Action Disney, Horror, gangster films, etc. In the middle of shooting a Western scene, Micky calls bullshit on everything and walks off set, Mike following behind. They find Davy in the midst of shooting some Disney-type film, and take him along. The Monkees spend most of the rest of film walking in and out of various sets and onto the back lot of Columbia studios. Terri Garr, Annette Funicello, and Tim Carey are among the guest stars in these scenes.

Mike, Micky, and Davy end up in the studio commissary. The other patrons rush out, muttering they can’t eat with them around, long hair, etc. I read somewhere that when the young actors were shooting the first season of the TV show, patrons of the Columbia studio cafeteria didn’t like having them around because of their long hair. Once everyone else is gone, the throaty-voiced waitress sarcastically calls the Monkees “God’s gift to the eight-year-olds.”

Most of the other characters in Head seem to hate the Monkees, including the Monkees themselves. The Huffington Post article about the film notes that the Monkees were tired of the show, tired of being a teen idol band, and wanted to be taken seriously. Writing, producing, and playing all the instruments on Headquarters didn’t get the job done. Head was their way of breaking with their own image. Rafelson and Schneider were tired of the Monkees as well. This was Raybert’s way of destroying their creation.

The waitress smacks Davy, transitioning into the boxing scenes, in which Davy gets the crap beat out of him by (real-life boxer) Sonny Liston. Mike and Micky have bet money based on him throwing the match and have an argument about who’s “the dummy.” This leads to Micky freaking out and punching everyone, including cops and the blonde moll-type (real-life stripper Carole Doda). Peter appears out of nowhere and meta comments on the “Peter” character he played on the weekly show:

This boxing scene segues into Peter back in the commissary, where he punches out the waitress (who is revealed, to no one’s surprise, to be played by a man.) The filming breaks and we get “behind-the-scenes” of Peter worrying about his “image” to the director Rafelson (breaking the fourth wall and acting as himself). Jack Nicholson is in the background of the scene (as is Dennis Hopper briefly).

Music “As We Go Along” by Goffin/King.

Monkees wander various landscapes, a beach, a flower garden, reminiscent of “Monkees on Tour”/”Monkees in Paris,” also directed by Rafelson. This segues into the Monkees on a factory tour. We never find out what the factory makes. Maybe the Monkees themselves since they are “manufactured” per the lyrics. Prescient line from the tour guide, as things become more automated and humans do less and less for themselves, and as people consume more television and other types of media.

“A new world, whose only preoccupation will be how to amuse itself. The tragedy of your times, my young friends, is you may get exactly what you want.”

IV. The Black Box

The Monkees are shut into a dark room and forced to perform as Victor Mature’s dandruff for a television commercial. From this point onward in Head the Monkees are, with a few exceptions, passively moved from one situation to another by the editing. They’re sucked into a vacuum where they find giant tacks, buttons, a needle and a joint. Davy’s not with them, so they make a human ladder to crawl back up and look for him. The dialogue here would almost have fit in on the show.

Micky: Somebody has to be on the bottom.
Mike: Well, I’m the tallest and the strongest.
Micky: So you’re the bottom.
Mike: I—oh, well…
Peter: Everybody’s where they wanna be.
Micky: That was a particularly inept thing to say, Peter, considering that we are in a vacuum cleaner.

Music: “Daddy’s Song” by Harry Nilsson.

Davy performs a song and dance number with choreographer Toni Basil (“Hey Mickey!”). In this fantastic scene, the dancing, the song, the editing with the two different backgrounds and costume changes; it’s perfect for him. Also, it’s hard not to tear up when he says “The years have passed and so have I,” given his death in 2012. This scene is an example of how intricate the editing in this film is (Michael Pozen and Monte Hellman). Throughout Head, each crazy sketch leads brilliantly into the next, though there’s no storyline to support the transitions. It’s a bit like the Monty Python film, And Now For Something Completely Different.

Davy wanders back out onto the lot where he runs into The Critic, who is leading a cow. (Frank Zappa, who also appeared in “The Monkees Blow Their Minds.”)

The Critic: “That song was pretty white.”
Davy: “Well, so am I, what can I tell ya?”

On the back studio lot, Mike, Micky, and Peter slowly emerge from a large black box and get hassled by a cop. They find themselves repeatedly back in this box throughout the rest of the film. Again, per Monkeemania, during the shooting of The Monkees there was an actual “black box” lounge area they were “kept” at times when they weren’t needed on set. This was the producers answer to the problems caused when the Columbia/Screen Gems executives didn’t like seeing the “long-haired” youths wandering around on the back lot.

After Davy and a corp of soldiers march the cop away, Davy excuses himself to use the bathroom. There are quite a few scenes in the bathroom, apparently a huge deal because films/television at that time pretended bathrooms didn’t exist. Cleverly edited sequence where Davy’s in a horror movie, and Micky’s in a jungle picture where the natives chain him to the wall along with Mike and Peter. The wall revolves and they’re back in the white-tiled bathroom with their hands up (where they would’ve been chained from the previous scene.) The cop hassles them some more.

V. The Real vs. The Imagined

The next sequence is called “The Cop’s Dream,” but would have made more sense if it was Mike’s dream. Mike’s nap gets disrupted by the door buzzer. Peter finally answers it but Mike can’t go back to sleep because first Peter, then Davy and Micky are all missing. He wanders around the Monkees house in his pajamas, and it’s cut to look like a horror film with creepy music and effects. He opens a creaky door and finds three robed men/Monkees who sing happy birthday to him. The whole scene bursts into a wild birthday party set to music. Everyone but Mike is dancing.

Music: “Do I have to do this all over again” (Peter Tork)

The song title is an excellent question. After all, the end of the film is the same as the beginning, I’m guessing these Monkees personas do this same thing every single day. Get chased around back lots, trapped in the black box, try to drown themselves, get taken back to the studio and repeat.

After the song, Mike yells at the crowd that he hates surprises “and the same thing goes for Christmas.” This makes the crowd gasp dramatically. (Ha!) Everyone starts laughing, assuming Mike is joking. Lord High n’ Low enters rolling in a wheelchair. He stands up, then staggers around and collapses, slurring his words. The Monkees start laughing hysterically.

They’ve been inserted into a Western where High n’ Low fires a rifle and tells them not to make fun of cripples. There’s now a montage of b/w interviews with various people explaining why it’s wrong to laugh at others and the possible punishments you should get for doing so. The Monkees wake up in a jail as a voice whispers “guilty.” This dissolves into a Yogi in a sauna who lectures about beliefs and conditioning. He speaks about the real vs. vividly imagined experiences to his student, Peter.

In the studio backlot, Mike and Micky are in a crowd, looking up at a woman who’s about to jump off a building and they make bets on whether she’ll go through with it. The Monkees are very unappealing in this movie, compared to their television show fictional personalities. On The Monkees, the characters were goofy and cowardly but friendly and always willing to help the underdogs. They had a strong friendship and they were also agents of chaos. They fought back. They caused trouble. The Monkees in Head on the other hand are tools; unlikable because they never try very hard to get out of this circle of hell. They have no charm, they aren’t engaging, they’re mostly humorless, they have no empathy for each other or other characters in the film. I don’t care about these characters as they continue to get destroyed by the ridiculous circumstances. It’s another way Head kills off the Monkees image.

The four of them end up back in the black box. Mike is impatient, angry with Peter who he thinks knows the way out. Peter takes charge and relays his conversation with “The Master.” He makes the point that the brain is almost incapable of telling difference between the “real and the vividly imagined.” Sound, film, radio, etc. He paraphrases the yogi’s speech, ending by saying he’s knows nothing.

Maybe this is obvious, but I like the theory that this is all happening in the Monkees minds or “heads” if you will; the ridiculous situations, constantly being trapped in their image as a bubblegum, teeny-bop band. Throughout the film, they never do escape.

The idea that the brain can’t tell the difference between the imagination and the reality is the point because the Monkees played characters that were “fictionalized” versions of themselves. They had their real names, etc. The actors in the show went on tour as a real band. They played live and made records outside the scope of the television show. Not to mention on the show episodes there were those frequent flips between the reality of the plot and the Monkees shared fantasies.

Then, of course, there is the audience. We all like to think we know the difference between fantasy and reality but do we always? I’m not talking fake news here, I’m talking about the things we convince ourselves of everyday, and how sometimes memories of books or movies get mixed up with memories of real life. We have to walk a very careful line with the amount of stuff that gets dumped into our brain constantly. Analyze it, sort it out.

VI. Finale

Davy gets angry that Peter has no real solution so he becomes an action hero, punches and breaks out of the box. The other three follow suit and they all fight the factory workers. Lee Kolima (“The Spy Who Came in from the Cool,” “The Devil and Peter Tork”) plays a security guard in this scene. The Monkees burst through the painted wall into a Western scene. Lord High n’ Low and his posse threaten the Monkees, but with a gift from the editors, Davy suddenly has that often used cannon and blasts them away. (Peter: “Where’d he get the cannon?” Heh.)

Speaking of fighting, the Monkees themselves staged one more fight at the start of the production of Head. On the first day of Head, Micky, Mike, and Davy didn’t show up for filming. They were protesting that they wouldn’t get more money for the film as their contracts hadn’t been renewed. They were appeased with $1,000 a piece and the production resumed.

A giant Victor Mature appears in the sky like a b-movie monster, and the Monkees end up back in the box again. A helicopter drops it off in the desert, where it breaks open. The Monkees face a line of extras from the film who chase them until Giant Victor hits the Monkees with a golf club and whacks them back into the back lot. There’s more chasing, wacky clips, a silent movie/Keystone Cop bit where they’re on the conveyor belt, Vietnam clips paired with TV commercials. The Monkees try to escape in a yellow jeep but Victor kicks it over. Genius editing.

The Monkees wind up back at the bridge opening ceremony, chased by the supporting cast. This time they all jump off the bridge and into the water. “The Porpoise Song” re-plays for their symbolic suicide as they sink. Ultimately, they end up trapped in the black box which is now a fish tank, symbolic of their celebrity lives in front of the Media. Victor Mature, the personification of the forces acting on the Monkees, sits in a director’s chair on the back of a truck that drives the tank away. Presumably back to the studio to “do this all over again.” Credits.

Rafelson did of course go on to do other films. Head was just the beginning of “new Hollywood.” He went on to produce Easy Rider, and the success of that film gave birth to BBS Productions. He directed Five Easy Pieces (for which both he and Nicholson were nominated for Oscars), Stay Hungry, and The Postman Always Rings Twice. He produced those films as well as Easy Rider, and The Last Picture Show. Nicholson went on to be, well you know, Jack Nicholson.

Though Rafelson used his Monkees money to finance his films, Head was a flop at the time; the film made less than $20,000 at the box office. It does seem like no one was especially interested in the film being popular, considering the weird trailer/ad campaign created by (Andy Warhol Factory) producer John Brockman. The ads featured his “head,” though he’s only actually in the film for a few seconds during a clip montage. It would be hard to tell this had anything to do with The Monkees. None of their hit songs were used in the film, it had all original music.

I can see why they had trouble gaining an audience at first. For a Monkees fan the non-commercial nature of the film might not be so appealing. An avant-garde film buff might not have been into the Monkees. Since the theatrical release however, it seems the film has achieved cult status. I can certainly see it working well as a cult film; it fits in with the Midnight Movie set. It took me a few viewings to get into it, but the film is funny; a different kind of humor from the series, but I get a few chuckles out of it for sure.

Thanks again to everyone who’s been reading this and all the recaps of the show!

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examined the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

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Monkees vs. Macheen: “Monkee Mayor”

“Nevermind the furthermore, the plea is self-defense”

“Monkee Mayor” aired October 2, 1967, and though that was a mighty long time ago, the story doesn’t feel dated to me. The ideas are still relevant today. It’s also one of those stories where the Monkees are working to help the underdog, instead of working for their own purposes. “Monkee Mayor” was directed by Alex Singer and written by Jack Winter, the same combo that did the previous episode in air-date order, “Everywhere a Sheik, Sheik.”

At the Monkees pad, Peter and Davy prep Mike to cut a ham, putting multiple rubber gloves on him (Like they did in “The Case of the Missing Monkee” when they impersonated doctors.) The neighbors, Mrs. Filchok, Mr. Swezy, and Mrs. Homer come in and take back the chairs, dishes, and table the Monkees had apparently borrowed. Why? Because the older folks are all being evicted. Their homes will be torn down to put up parking lots [“You don’t know what you got ’til it’s gone” – Editor]. Mike takes a look at the notice they’ve received and explains it’s impossible because it violates “every zoning regulation.” Just as he assures them, the sounds and the dust of the destruction begin.

Mike goes to city hall and asks the Secretary to tell the mayor that, “Michael Nesmith, private citizen, is here to see him.” He explains that innocent people are being thrown out because of the parking lot the city is building. She condescendingly asks if he’s making a complaint, then shows him through to the “Complaints” door that leads him back out onto the street. Mike walks right back in, determined to see Mayor Motley. She shows him through another door which leads him to a brick wall. Adding injury to insult, Mike gets hit on the head with a random mallet.

Mike comes back and now he’s angry. His yelling draws out Mayor Motley, played by Irwin Charone who was also the Producer in “I’ve Got a Little Song Here.” Mike introduces himself and stammers through his complaint. Motley keeps messing up his name, calling him “Niswash” like Bernie Class did in “I’ve Got a Little Song Here.” Motley distracts Mike with the following subversive speech: “Our country was founded in 1612 from across the shores…from across the shores the pilgrims landed and found Indians, luckily they moved those Indians. Why, throwing people out of their homes is the American way!” He shakes Mike’s hand, thanks him for his opinion. Mike leaves, stammering and not realizing he’s been brushed off until he’s outside again.

Motley goes into his office to discuss the diabolical plan with a Mr. Zechenbush (Monte Landis). Zechenbush, who has a vaguely southern accent, wants to “ring” the entire city with parking lots so no one can go in our out without having to pay them. The mayor points out they would have to tear down museums, schools, hospitals, etc. Never mind that nobody would bother come to the town to park if they get rid of everything people would potentially visit. [I’m reminded of Flint, Michigan in the late ’80s. – Editor] It doesn’t have to make sense, because it’s evil! They don’t explain exactly who Zechenbush is (plot description on Wikipedia says he’s a ‘crooked construction tycoon’) but he owns Motley in some way; he probably contributed a lot of money to  Motley’s campaign. He’s a crooked lobbyist. Motley eagerly agrees with whatever Zechenbush says. I’m also curious about what town Motley is mayor of? They’ve established the Monkees live in Malibu. The story for this episode has such a small town vibe, that’s hard to imagine.

Mike goes home and finds the neighbors have moved in. He still wants to help them, he has motives for the greater good, “we don’t want a dictatorial government running the city” and “the rights of an individual citizen have got to be respected” and also pragmatic motives, “we’ve got to get all these people out of our house.” Micky comes to the conclusion that Mike should run for mayor. He’s the only one with “a hat to throw into the ring.” At that moment, he’s not wearing it. Repeating the gag from “Monkees on the Line,” Mike asks “where’s my hat” and someone throws it to him from off screen. Then Micky tosses it “in the ring.” Micky calls Motley to warn him that Mike is running for mayor and they’ll see him in the polls on Thursday.

The Monkees work on Mike’s political image. First Mike impersonates George Washington. (Peter did this first in “Monkees a la Mode.”) Davy vetoes this (“too honest”). Mike protests, “How can you be too honest?” Next, he’s “bearded weirdo” Abe Lincoln. Davy declares he “doesn’t have the looks.” Actually, Mike makes a terrific looking Lincoln. The third option is Lyndon B. Johnson, who was the president when this episode was aired. Mike as LBJ promises, “And so until this crisis is over, I will hunker down like a jackass in a hailstorm, dot dot dot.” Davy protests, “no politician would ever say a thing like that.” And yet…

Deciding Mike’s everyday look is perfection, they launch the campaign with Micky as campaign manager, Davy as aide-de-camp, and Peter as his campy aid. I always thought aide-de-camp was a military term. It’s Peter’s title that really amuses me though; this show is campy enough, no “aid” required. Peter treats Mike as though he were a ship being christened and tries to brain him with a champagne bottle. Fortunately Micky and Davy intervene.

They launch the campaign, counting down into the romp for “No Time” (Hank Cicalo). I dig this song, sort of a gospel sounding number. The tempo suits the violence of the romp perfectly. This song was written by the Monkees themselves, but credited to Cicalo as a “tip” for him because he was their recording engineer for The Monkees, More of The Monkees, Live 1967, and Headquarters. He also engineered some tracks for Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones as well as Michael Nesmith’s The Wichita Train Whistle Sings.

The romp itself is one of the best; funny, subversive and moves the story beautifully. The basic narrative is the Monkees promoting Mike’s campaign, and it all goes go horribly wrong. Mike judges a beauty contest; after he picks a winner, the losers beat the crap out of him. Micky helps an old lady cross the street and she beats him with her umbrella. Davy stops to kiss a baby and the Mom assaults him with kisses. This is juxtaposed with the Secretary smacking back Zechenbush for kissing her. Mike meets and greets the public, one of whom steals his watch. (Stand-in David Price is among the crowd.) Mike stops Peter from using a toy bazooka on Davy but then a bunch of well-dressed people pull guns on Mike. We see Zechenbush paying off all of these people to humiliate the Monkees. Delightfully cynical. Other visual highlights include Peter disappearing into a bottomless baby carriage and Micky hanging a “Mike Nesmith for Mayor” sign on his date’s behind.

After all that fruitless work, the Monkees come back to the pad to find that it’s been ransacked and the campaign posters vandalized. They consider who would have done this and Micky mentions that the cleaning lady comes on the second Thursday of every month with an “r” in it. (Yet in “The Chaperone,” she came Tuesdays.) Mike guesses the culprits were “goons from Mayor Motley’s office.” Speaking of Tuesdays, I found a fun interview with Michael Nesmith, promoting his new memoir, Infinite Tuesday. Check it out.

The Monkees go back to the mayor’s office to find out what he’s hiding. Conveniently, no one is around so they can sneak in and search the office file cabinets, closet etc. Very forward-thinking of them, in a criminal way. (This is five years before the Committee for the Re-Election of the President busted into the Democratic National Committee Headquarters.) Peter opens the closet and finds a skeleton dressed in a suit. (Nice visual pun!) Micky removes a key from the skeleton’s pocket to open the locked file cabinet, knowing it will work because “it’s a skeleton key.” In the cabinet, Davy finds the plans to turn everything into parking lots. Peter materializes an 1880’s Eastman View camera (similar, but not the same medium format camera from “The Picture Frame”) out of nowhere. He takes a picture of the others displaying the incriminating evidence. Before they can escape, Zechenbush and Motley come back. The Monkees hide in the closet, Micky taking the skeleton’s place inside the suit. There’s a funny gag when Micky, “the skeleton,” hands Zechenbush the key and Zechenbush thanks him. Zechenbush notices the camera. As the Monkees improbably sneak out in plain sight, Motley and Zechenbush obliviously discuss their paranoia that Monkees have seen the parking lot files.

At the pad, Peter develops his film. Turns out he took a picture of the file cabinet, not the plans. As in “Monkees on the Line,” the other three cover Peter’s eyes with his own hands in annoyance. Zechenbush, Motley, and the Secretary discuss finding dirt on Mike while they wait for him to make a play with the evidence they assume he has, but it’s no use. According to the Secretary, Mike’s had a “nothing life.” No arrests, no firings. Really? I’m pretty sure Mike has been fired (“Monkee vs. Machine”) and arrested but acquitted (“The Picture Frame”). I guess none of the insane things they’ve done have never made the papers, like: terrorizing an airport, riding a motorcycle through a Laundromat, or disrupting a televised boxing match.

The Monkees are ready to throw in the towel since they have no evidence against the mayor and no campaign funds. Micky enters with a bag full of checks from people contributing hundreds and thousands of dollars to Mike’s campaign. (The “little people” are mentioned here, as they were in “I’ve Got a Little Song Here.”) Micky says they can “blow this town wide open,” and the editors cut to stock footage of a building being demolished. Mike points out that’s exactly what they’re trying to prevent, so Micky re-states that they can blow the town “wide closed” and they reverse the film so the building re-assembles itself.. (The music here is an instrumental version of “Star Collector.”)

The Monkees spend cash. Micky goes to the newspaper and literally throws money at the publisher to put Mike on the front page and everywhere else. Peter wants a skywriter to write Mike’s name in the sky “with the sun dotting the “i”. But the pilot isn’t good enough, Peter wants Lindbergh! (Charles) then he decides, “On second thought, get me Rickenbacker! His penmanship is better.” Davy goes to the television station, directing the cameraman (played by Monkees stand-in David Price) when to give Mike close-ups for his TV appearance.

Back at the pad, Micky, Davy, and Peter give Mike a pep talk. Zechenbush walks in uninvited and Mike tells him he’s going on television to expose him and his “whole racket.” Zechenbush explains that the checks the Monkees spent were all from people that work for him, so Mike’s campaign is now also funded by Zechenbush. He’s figured out a way to own Mike and warns him to withdraw or he’ll “get him” and his friends. It seems they’re screwed.

The Monkees go to the TV station anyway. Davy, Micky, and Peter encourage Mike not to give up. Then, they sit and watch to see what Mike will do, and the neighbors watch Mike on TV from the pad. For the scene, they use that “Stand By” sign again, the one used for previous episodes “Too Many Girls” and “Captain Crocodile.”

Once he gets the signal, Mike begins to speak. He explains he began his campaign hoping to help people like his neighbors that didn’t have any power. He didn’t think it was right that no one would listen to them so he wanted to do something. Mike admits, “I got sucked up in the very forces I was trying to conquer” and his campaign was financed by an “improper source.” Though he was unaware and got tricked into doing this, he figures he’s “not smart enough to be mayor.” It’s very moving and aided by Michael Nesmith’s natural and non-actor-ly delivery. Trouble is, Mike is an honest and hardworking character, the kind you would want in public office. That same quality makes him unlikely to succeed at getting elected at the “dirty game” of politics. It’s a catch 22; someone who has the right characteristics to succeed at getting elected, may not be someone who should be trusted with leadership. It’s the ultimate cynicism of this story. 

Zechenbush and Motley entered the TV studio in the meantime. Motley is motivated by Mike’s words. He approaches and, in a callback to the earlier gag says his name correctly, and Mike corrects him, “Niswash.” I have to question Motley’s quick change of heart on this, but it is, after all, a 24 minute show. Just when you think Mike has accomplished nothing, Motely declares “one man’s honesty throws sand in the machinery.” Motley promises to mend his ways and make the town “a cleaner and more personal place to live.” Zechenbush slips out the back, defeated.

Mike’s ill-fated campaign could be looked at as alternative to a protest. It’s interesting that the writers/producers didn’t go the protest route. Instead of Mike running for Mayor, they could have had the Monkees staging a protest of city hall. Protests were a big part of counterculture of the time. Creating chaos is a Monkees specialty. But instead of trying to change things from the outside, they try to make Mike an insider. However, episodes like “Monkees à la Mode” have established the Monkees as outsiders. On the other hand, young people protesting may have been too controversial for a network sitcom. It also would have dated the episode and locked it into the 1960s. “Monkee Mayor,” as it stands, has a timeless appeal.

Next is a tag sequence as the neighbors thank the Monkees for saving their homes. The Monkees exposit that the mayor canceled his plans to put parking lots where their homes were, and Zechenbush is in jail. Micky wonders where the parking lot will be built, and a wrecking ball comes crashing through the ceiling, followed by a Rainbow Room performance of the song  “Pleasant Valley Sunday” (Goffin/King).

According to the Monkees Tripod site, this episode was originally titled “Micky for Mayor.” I imagine the original script called for Micky to run for office. But the job suits Mike better. Micky Dolenz is a fine actor, but Micky is tricky. Michael Nesmith comes off sincere. He’s compelling actor; he delivers the speech at the end and you feel bad for him. I actually teared up a bit. I get the feeling from listening to various episode commentaries that maybe Mike didn’t like acting much, or at least his own acting. On the IMDB he only has 11 acting credits. I know the world doesn’t need another actor but in a way, it is a shame. “Monkee Mayor” shows what an effective job he could do.

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

 

New Episode! “A Confederacy Of Douchebags (Part One)”

Douche1

“We are, we are, we are but your children
Finding our way around indecision
We are, we are, we are rather helpless
Take us forever, a whisper to a scream.”

“Tiddy Bear”, “We’ve Only Just Begun” (Roger Nichols/Paul Williams) by The Carpenters (from the 1970 album, “Close To You”), “America” (Neil Diamond) by Neil Diamond (from the 1980 album, “The Jazz Singer”), “Hail To The Chief” (James Sanderson/Albert Gamse), “Birds Fly (Whisper to a Scream)” by The Icicle Works (Ian McNabb).

BlissVille Fridays: “I Pulled My Muscle For Michelle”

I Pulled My Muscle For Michelle

NEW LOST EPISODE!

Liberals (and liberal feminists) are once again caught in a sticky situation, tethered to old, outmoded concepts while simultaneously attempting to reach to the stars for more progressive attitudes. Of course, I’m talking about Hookers For Hillary.
This is from Daily Beast:
Nevada’s infamous brothel Moonlite Bunny Ranch has launched a campaign dubbed “Hookers For Hillary.” The lovable ladies have come out in support of our former first lady in a serious, potentially large-scale campaign. These Everyday Americans have chosen their candidate.
Or their “champion”, as I would put it.
The impetus of such a decision on their part seems to be that for the first time ever in the history of prostitution, health care concerns have become manageable, but this is where they lose me because it wasn’t Hillary Clinton who pushed through the first legislation regarding health care in this country, and also if you’ve read the Affordable Care Act as drafted by the Obama Administration, it isn’t about health insurance or health care – it’s about creating a marketplace, that’s really it.
Hillary Clinton is an old-fashioned lady, one of several in the Nation that views prostitution and sex work as evil and amoral, and should be stamped out at all costs, so she’s getting an endorsement from her enemies and this very much reminds me of the Cougars from 2007-2008.
Now, you know Hillary is not going to want to have anything to do with this, right? How does she ignore Hookers For Hillary? How does she pretend they don’t exist?

It should go without saying (at this point) that Andrew and I have fairly loose tongues and we tend to pepper our speech with obscenity and profanity.  This is because we record a podcast in an atmosphere where we like to be comfortable.  If you are easily offended by harsh or foul language and terse pronouncements, don’t listen.