So it’s left to Dean Martin to keep the enterprise afloat which he does with tremendous chutzpah.

 Hey pallies, likes are all youse  Dino-philes readily  ready for an even cooler, hipper, and randy-er....deeper then deep Dino-dive into our most most beloved Dino as swingin' spyster Matt Helm.  Likes, if you are in the Dino-affirmative then get ready to read the coolest of cool, hippest of hip, randy-iest of randy review by that swankest of swank scriber of  Dino-prose, none other that Mr. Brian Hannan at his 60s flick features bodacious blog, "The Magnificant 60's.   

Likes today Bri's powerfully potent prose puts the amazin' accent on our Dino's second helpin' of Helm action, and likes by the way, our fav of fav Dino-as-Helm caper, "Murders' Row."

Likes Hannan is likes ab-so-lute-ly in the Dino-know and likes totally, totally gets where our Dino is at as he sets the swingin'est  of swingin' scene for this Dino-classic!  Likes Dino-dudes, likes dig Bri's openin' opine:  

"Chucklesome brew. It’s easy to get wrong idea about the Matt Helm series, what with the onslaught of girls in bikinis, a hero majoring in seduction and madmen wanting to take over the world. You could be hoodwinked into thinking this had something to do with espionage rather than a platform for the non-stop delivery of deadpan one-liners and wry visual gags."  

Likes in all our time spreadin' the Dino-love here at ilovedinomartin, we've shared totally tons 'n tons of Dino-as-Helm reviews in our almost 2 decades of Dino-adulation, and likes many many of the remarkable reviews have come from pallies who "get Martin."  But to our way of Dino-thinkin' we can say that Hannan is one of the bestest of the best, and likes perhaps even the best ever at speakin' the Dino-truth 'bout what makes the quartet of Helmer spyster epics likes totally, totally 'bout the purest of pure pleasure of experiencin' our Dino perfectly, purposely playin' his ever cool, hip, and randy persona.

Likes, we coulda easily ramble on and on 'bout  the veritable virtues that Bri brings to his wonderfully wise words of keen knowin' of our Dino's amazin' antics as Matt Helm in "Murders' Row, but we wants all youse Dinoholics to immediately imbibe for yourselves.

Once 'gain, we share our keenest of keen appreciatio to Mr. Brian Hannan for his perfect praise of Dino-as-Helm.  And, likes pallies, standby for more Dino-prose from Bri's pontent pen!  Likes to checks this out in it's original source, per usual, simply clicks on the tag of this Dino-report.  

We remain,

Dino-devotedly yours, 

Dino Martin Peters

     

The Magnificent 60s

by Brian Hannan

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Murderers’ Row (1966) ***

Chucklesome brew. It’s easy to get wrong idea about the Matt Helm series, what with the onslaught of girls in bikinis, a hero majoring in seduction and madmen wanting to take over the world. You could be hoodwinked into thinking this had something to do with espionage rather than a platform for the non-stop delivery of deadpan one-liners and wry visual gags.  The star prevents anyone taking anything seriously with a rat-tat-tat quip a minute. The plot’s hooey and the female stars scarcely register. But who cares. The audience has buckled up for a fun ride.

Apart from the dialog the narrative is distinctly lazy. Assuming it’s what audiences want, the action takes time out to note parades of passing girls in bikinis and occasionally stops  dead should there be the opportunity to watch youngsters dancing wildly. With humor to the fore, you could probably have gone for a dozen other storylines as good – or bad – as this one and nobody would have noticed.

Matt Helm (Dean Martin) is forced to interrupt photographing a bevy of beautiful girls in order to save the world from madman Julian Wall (Karl Malden) who plans to use the power of the sun to destroy Washington D.C. “Operation Scorch” relies on the brain of scientist Dr Solaris (Richard Eastham), who has been kidnapped to persuade him to hand over his formula.

This takes Helm, masquerading as a Chicago mobster, to Monte Carlo where he almost immediately faces a charge of murder. Tracking down Wall and his squeeze Coco (Camilla Sprav) proves easy. In rather desultory fashion Helm hooks up with local beauty Suzie (Ann-Margret) and until we discover that her father is Solaris her presence is mostly redundant as, for once, neither love nor lust is in the air.

Like any self-respecting madman Wall hangs out on an island where he is putting the final details to his plan and torturing Solaris. With Suzie in his wake, Helm easily infiltrates the rather desultory hideout, is captured, Solaris surrenders the secret formula once his daughter is threatened, and Suzie comes into her own by disabling the infernal machine by the simple device of a hairpin. This leads to a rather desultory happy ending.

I’m not entirely sure why Ann-Margret chose this vehicle, since she is called upon to do very little except shake her trademark booty. If she had gone up in critical estimation after her turns in Once a Thief (1965) and Stagecoach (1966) she plummeted back to earth here. You could say the same for Camilla Sparv – all the hard work in gaining reasonable notices for The Trouble with Angels (1966) and especially heist thriller Dead Heat on a Merry-Go-Round (1966) undone. She has even less to do than Ann-Margret. Eye candy is too good a word for them and they are unfairly underused.

Karl Malden (Nevada Smith, 1966), who usually attempts to humanize his characters, avoids that idea and goes straight for cartoon villain.

So it’s left to Dean Martin to keep the enterprise afloat which he does with tremendous chutzpah. As well as the verbal drollery there are some excellent visual gags, including the use of a giant magnet to render defenseless menacing thug Ironhead (Tom Reese), so called because has a large metal plate on his skull. Virtually every line produces a rejoinder from Dean Martin, and that lightness of delivery matches the souffle nature of the picture, a sequel to The Silencers (1966), both big box office hits.

Director Henry Levin (Genghis Khan, 1965) gives himself no airs or graces, sensible enough to stick the camera on Dean Martin and let him do the rest. Written by Herbert Baker (Hammerhead, 1968) from the bestseller by Donald Hamilton.

Highly entertaining for a piece of pure fluff.