On radio, the Goons conquered comedy in the 1950s like a horde of batter-pudding hurling Huns. On screen, their whimsical, surreal genius vanishes like a ghost in the noonday sun.
"Down Among The Z Men" is a badly written, insufferably acted, clumsily directed historical curiosity. The two most famous Goons, Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan, sit on the sidelines while the third Goon, Harry Secombe, has the lead role as a dim-witted store clerk chasing after a professor. While it's the team's second movie, it has special import in being the only one to feature founding Goon Michael Bentine, who plays the professor with a silly fright wig and a splay-footed walk.
"What's on your mind, apart from your hair?" Bentine is asked, a good example of the weak material on display.
You can say that "Down Among The Z Men" doesn't have much of a plot, indulges in bad puns and groaner jokes, and features several time-killing musical interludes, though you also can say that of the classic radio Goon Shows. The difference isn't the material so much as its handling. Bentine and Milligan make silly faces at the camera, while Secombe does a lot of double takes and pratfalls. They make chicken noises, act like gorillas, and look out of their element.
Sellers seems a pro by comparison, underplaying a stiff-but-decent colonel named Bloodnok who had not yet evolved into the scheming major character of the same name who came later. Yet it's hardly a comic role, except for a strange interlude when Sellers drops character to do a one-man skit involving American army officers. It's a wan premise with a zippo ending, something you can say of the entire movie.
People note that Milligan had nothing to do with the script, though Jimmy Grafton, who did write it along with Francis Charles, was a writer of early Goon Shows and even ran the pub where the Goons originally met. The premise, a spy romp involving something called a "bicarbonate bomb" has potential, but director Maclean Rogers seems unable to draw it out. He shoots every scene in the same flat way, with endings punctuated by someone falling or tripping on something. Pacing is non-existent.
The Goons are upstaged by Goon Show announcer Andrew Timothy and frequent collaborator Graham Stark as a pair of convincingly nasty spies, not to mention a dozen pretty dancing girls who kick out a couple of fun numbers. Rogers' low-angle shots of the girls are the only evidence he knew how to move a camera.
Though billed at the opening as a starring vehicle for the Goons, with the four popping out to introduce themselves as such in the opening credits, the film has only two short scenes when the Goons are all together, one when a laughing gas bomb goes off and they all guffaw for a minute, and at the end when they sing the title song. Any chance to see the gang's chemistry with Bentine in the mix is largely lost. You can say they added by subtraction as Bentine is pretty weak in the acting and comedy department, but so are Milligan and Secombe going by this alone.
The Goons must have realized film was not the best way to capture what they were about: They made no more movies as a four- or even three-man unit after this. Instead they focused on their radio work, which stands up to this day and is far worthier of your time than the lazy "Z Men".
"Down Among The Z Men" is a badly written, insufferably acted, clumsily directed historical curiosity. The two most famous Goons, Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan, sit on the sidelines while the third Goon, Harry Secombe, has the lead role as a dim-witted store clerk chasing after a professor. While it's the team's second movie, it has special import in being the only one to feature founding Goon Michael Bentine, who plays the professor with a silly fright wig and a splay-footed walk.
"What's on your mind, apart from your hair?" Bentine is asked, a good example of the weak material on display.
You can say that "Down Among The Z Men" doesn't have much of a plot, indulges in bad puns and groaner jokes, and features several time-killing musical interludes, though you also can say that of the classic radio Goon Shows. The difference isn't the material so much as its handling. Bentine and Milligan make silly faces at the camera, while Secombe does a lot of double takes and pratfalls. They make chicken noises, act like gorillas, and look out of their element.
Sellers seems a pro by comparison, underplaying a stiff-but-decent colonel named Bloodnok who had not yet evolved into the scheming major character of the same name who came later. Yet it's hardly a comic role, except for a strange interlude when Sellers drops character to do a one-man skit involving American army officers. It's a wan premise with a zippo ending, something you can say of the entire movie.
People note that Milligan had nothing to do with the script, though Jimmy Grafton, who did write it along with Francis Charles, was a writer of early Goon Shows and even ran the pub where the Goons originally met. The premise, a spy romp involving something called a "bicarbonate bomb" has potential, but director Maclean Rogers seems unable to draw it out. He shoots every scene in the same flat way, with endings punctuated by someone falling or tripping on something. Pacing is non-existent.
The Goons are upstaged by Goon Show announcer Andrew Timothy and frequent collaborator Graham Stark as a pair of convincingly nasty spies, not to mention a dozen pretty dancing girls who kick out a couple of fun numbers. Rogers' low-angle shots of the girls are the only evidence he knew how to move a camera.
Though billed at the opening as a starring vehicle for the Goons, with the four popping out to introduce themselves as such in the opening credits, the film has only two short scenes when the Goons are all together, one when a laughing gas bomb goes off and they all guffaw for a minute, and at the end when they sing the title song. Any chance to see the gang's chemistry with Bentine in the mix is largely lost. You can say they added by subtraction as Bentine is pretty weak in the acting and comedy department, but so are Milligan and Secombe going by this alone.
The Goons must have realized film was not the best way to capture what they were about: They made no more movies as a four- or even three-man unit after this. Instead they focused on their radio work, which stands up to this day and is far worthier of your time than the lazy "Z Men".