HIGH SCHOOL BIG SHOT (1959)

Distributed by Sparta Productions, this seventy minutes of celluloid was directed and written by television's Joel Rapp, the man responsible for writing some of the most popular shows of the Sixties. Let us not blame him entirely for this film. This was a team effort. Shave about five minutes and this film might have played better through an RCA or Magnavox console. An intelligent, jazzy score by Gerald Fried opens the film in which a third of the lead cast gets killed. Always an acceptable ending for low-budget acting. The executive producer was Roger Corman and though the twenty-something high school students are not fooling anyone, the acting is mostly above par thanks to those same twenty-somethings and a few television veterans. A film that concerns a depressing group of flawed characters. There is the alcoholic deadbeat father, a renowned safe cracker who subscribes to the “honor among thieves” mantra, a female classmate who puts the “man” in manipulate and three high schoolers who enjoy talking about slapping their dates around or anyone they dislike. Just call them the “three stooges.”

Tom Pittman is good. Moody. Talking directly into the camera, he opens the film, asking the whereabouts of a safecracker to maybe work out a deal. Though captivating, his cool, adult delivery immediately defeats the premise of the shy, awkward high school kid. He is routinely threatened by the bully-leader of the “three stooges,” Howard Veit, in his only acting role, simply because Pittman is the brightest student in the class. In true liberal thinking, he cannot beat someone so he tries to eliminate the competition. So Veit seems to be the more logical choice as the "wannabe" big shot, what with his classroom disruptions and smart-aleck replies. But he is just not that smart. Pittman is the one student who has a scholarship waiting. Being a big shot is not in his thinking. His downfall is the cute Virginia Aldridge, part-time tart of meathead Veit. With an ulterior motive, she goes sweet on Pittman to get him to write her final exam essay. He thinks they have a future. She thinks she possibly might graduate. Their teacher, television’s Peter Leeds, knows she did not write it. She cannot even quote it. After denying it, Leeds presses Pittman again for the truth and he confesses. She is outraged he told the truth. Things just never work out for her. She will not graduate and Pittman’s scholarship is canceled. Thanks, honey-bunch.

Malcolm Atterbury plays Pittman’s father. He was an old pro and he bolsters the film’s early stages. Their father and son scenes are tender if not heartbreaking. Pittman is devoted to his father who believes he will get another job, or even remarry. Dad reassures his son he has also sworn off drink. Later finding his father again nearly unconscious, Pittman bends before him and breaks down in tears. He would do anything to remove their financial state of affairs and buy useless stuff for Aldridge. 

Pittman overhears his boss, Bryan Foulger, planning a million-dollar heroin deal with the money to be locked in the office safe prior to the deal.  Pittman wanders the streets by fake-walking in place, head turning left and right. Pretty funny. He locates Stanley Adams, a well-dressed safe-cracker, who spends his off hours mooching off a liquor store owned by his brother-in-law. Hard to believe but Pitman transforms into a savvy mastermind as the trio splits their haul.

Self-serving Aldridge double-crosses Pittman and informs Veit he should intercept the money from Pittman at the pier. Distant sirens can be heard. Detail-orientated viewers will notice a film flop as one Plymouth patrol car, conveniently unmarked, is right-hand drive. They use the same correctly projected footage for a “third” patrol car’s arrival from the same direction. A visual lesson on how to save production money or pad a cheap film. In his attempt to escape, Veit is dropped by a bullet and the briefcase flies open. Also on the scene is Foulger, who goes berserk looking directly into the camera and twice uncontrollably fumes, “A million bucks!” as he watches it float away from the dock. Chilling, but the amount was only Pittman's share of the loot. The aftermath calls for four funeral arrangements and taxpayers to pay room and board for the rest of the lead cast. 

Note: James Dean made a huge impact (poor choice of words) on Tom Pittman. Both had television experience with the medium being the bulk of Pittman’s work. He had several movies to his credit and this was his last film, released posthumously, along with a previous film, after he died from injuries crashing over a cliff in his own Porsche Spyder on Halloween, three years after Dean. It was nearly twenty days later that his body and car were discovered in a ravine.

THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN (1957)

This was an impressive science fiction film for its day. The main character is not fending off a stereotypical invasion of aliens from another planet. Rather, it is a fantastical tale of a man's challenge to retain his very own existence through an imaginative screenplay and the thought-provoking story, thanks to Richard Matheson. The miniaturization special effects using larger-than-life furniture and props were convincing at the time, though the idea was produced seventeen years earlier in the first film to suggest miniaturization, Dr. Cyclops. Directed by Jack Arnold and produced by Albert Zugsmith, this is eighty-one minutes well spent. It was a box office success for Universal Pictures. Though logically pure science fiction, it seems a reasonable theory based on convincing medical diagnosis to explain shrinkage.

While boating with his wife, played by Randy Stuart, Grant Williams is overwhelmed by a low-lying fog as it passes over the craft. After returning to the deck, she notices he is covered in reflective flakes, a visual affirmation of the cloud's effect. As if this once-in-a-lifetime experience was not enough, he is later accidentally exposed to large amounts of common insecticide. The radioactive mist and insecticide combination rearrange William's molecular structure, causing his cells to shrink in perfect synchronization. 

Months roll by with little thought of the misty cloud until Williams notices his clothes seem a tad too big. The subtle changes in his stature are handled believably. Jumping to a conclusion he blames the laundry service, perhaps that mysterious process known as Martinizing. The realization his wife no longer needs to stand on her tip-toes to kiss him gives confirmation to his fear...she is getting taller! His physician, William Schallert dismisses his concerns and reassures him that he is normal. A young man simply does not grow shorter, after all. But Williams is further convinced there is something wrong when his wedding ring falls from his finger. An omen to be sure.

At the suggestion of his “thoughtful” brother, Paul Langton, his story hits the headlines in the hope that Williams might provide income as a national, three-foot-tall, freakazoid. His humiliation is too much to bear, however, and he ventures outside his home. A female neighborhood midget—that does not happen every day either—becomes his encouraging source in accepting his shortcomings. It does not take him long to notice, however, she retains her height. One also wonders about his tailor-made clothes and did he stop by for a fitting. His next moving experience is to get comfortable in a new 1:1 scale dollhouse. By this time, Williams is getting rather cranky. His wife needs a grocery run to pick up a lima bean for his supper. She leaves the front door open just a few seconds and their cat, played by Orangey, gets in. As some cats have probably considered, he attacks his owner. When the wife returns to find a blood-stained piece of cloth, she assumes Orangey has been a vehwy, vehwy bad kitty.

Alive but trapped in the basement by a locked door, Williams has to overcome many obstacles to survive, including a very intimidating spider the size of a sedan and nourishment from cheese retrieved from a set mouse trap. Yuck! These are “fun” scenes as challenges erupt when adapting to everyday objects. When the water heater bursts, a minor inconvenience for most people, it becomes a life-threatening flood for Williams as the rushing water leads down a drain pipe. After an exhausting final battle with that pesky spider, he awakens to find he is small enough to slip through one square of a window screen. Seeking a tailor is no longer an option, either. He is now literally dressed in rags. Having survived incredible odds, Williams does not fear the future as the inspiring music crescendos and he gazes to the heavens. No matter how small he becomes he will still matter in God's universe. "To God, there is no zero." 

He is immediately devoured by a praying mantis. Perhaps.

Note: Richard Matheson was a superb writer of science fiction and may be best known as the one providing many successful scripts for television's original, “Twilight Zone” and “Alfred Hitchcock Presents.” In this, her "largest" role to date, it was Randy Stuart's next-to-last film.