This past week marked the 40th anniversary of Popeye‘s premiere: December 6, 1980. Sometime shortly after its general release, my mom took me to see it– one of the few times I saw a movie at the show with my mom rather than with my dad. This was a happy memory. I loved Popeye then as I do now… forty years later. An often-maligned film, particularly by those in the industry at the time, Popeye is one of the most original films to come out of Hollywood.
Popeye the Sailor arrives in Sweethaven in search of his Pappy. During his stay in the village, he meets Olive Oyl, who is engaged to the town bully, Bluto. Popeye and Olive soon find a baby in a basket, Swee’Pea, whose “psychic” abilities inspire a kidnapping by Bluto. Before long, Popeye is on the trail and confronts the man behind Bluto, the mysterious Commodore…
Based on the world created by cartoonist E. C. Segar, director Robert Altman’s film version brought the characters to life in a colorful, live-action musical feature. What is of particular interest to fans is that although Altman pays tribute to the cartoons– a Jack Mercer-voiced animated Popeye opens the film– Altman went further back to Segar’s “Thimble Theatre” and the original comic strips as his main source of inspiration. Credit is given to screenwriter Jules Feiffer for taking the story in this direction. Perhaps this is one of the reasons so many people didn’t “get it”; they were expecting more of the spinach-eating, sock-em action of the great Max & Dave Fleischer cartoons. What exists on film is sort of an origin story, at least in terms of Popeye’s history with spinach.
Popeye was perfectly cast– from the top on down to the bizarre supporting characters. Robin Williams was probably the only actor in town who could mimic the legendary Sailor Man, and Shelley Duvall, as has often been said, was born to play the beanpole Olive Oyl. (Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin– then Gilda Radner– were names considered early for these roles. Hoffman backed out after disagreements with Jules Feiffer.) Never a particular fan of Robin Williams, I’ve always maintained that this was the best thing he ever did. His character, Popeye, is the classic outsider, and for anyone who has ever felt like they didn’t belong, or were made fun of because of one trait or another, Popeye remains a hero. Williams brought dimension to the role– no easy task– and made him a sympathetic character.
Like many of Altman’s films, Popeye features a large, ensemble cast. One particular quality is Altman’s use of overlapping dialogue, which brings the world to life. His scenes could be chaotic, but there was an ordered chaos to how things were staged. Even the supporting characters, like Bill Irwin’s Ham Gravy, were actual performers and circus clowns. They all have some bit of business they are doing on screen. Characters exist here in a self-contained universe unlike anything else we’ve seen. We’re not even sure when this exists, although Poopdeck Pappy (wonderfully played by Ray Walston) references the Depression from some years back.
Popeye was shot on the Mediterranean island of Malta where the dilapidated village of “Sweethaven” was erected. (It still stands to this day as a tourist attraction.) The sets were incredibly detailed and beautifully photographed by Giuseppe Rotunno, who had previously shot eight films for Federico Fellini. Popeye‘s atmosphere and sense of place is so strong you can almost taste the salt water.
And of course, there are the songs by Harry Nilsson. What should be appreciated is the effort made by the stars performing these tunes. As Altman had said, this wasn’t a film about perfect music, and that’s what makes the score so endearing. I have one friend who continuously jokes about Bluto’s “I’m Mean” song, but I think the melodies are wonderful, and Olive’s “He Needs Me” is a standalone classic. I own the original record album and the only song I felt didn’t fit (“Din’ We”) was cut out of the film. Ironically, one of my favorite songs in the movie (“Everything is Food”) isn’t on the album. It does, however, appear on the two-cd deluxe edition of the soundtrack released in 2017. This set also includes dramatic cues from Thomas Pierson’s overlooked orchestral score.
An eclectic group of talent was assembled in Malta for what proved to be an oddball film. It’s a unique vision that will certainly leave an impression on the viewer. I once had a classmate in film school who, although an admirer of the film, told me Popeye‘s strange assortment of characters had given him nightmares! (Popeye certainly has its share of them. Altman’s film is richly detailed with so much going on in the frame. If you’ve only seen the film once, you might have missed the weird hermit guy in the background of some scenes!) I’ve met many in the film community who do appreciate the film’s many eccentricities.
Popeye has had a second life on video, having just recently been released on Blu-ray for the first time for its 40th anniversary. Despite its popularity as home entertainment– a babysitting tool, perhaps– I’ve never quite understood why so many people have disparaged it. Who doesn’t like a movie with a “flying” octopus?!? Even one of my favorite historians, Leonard Maltin, listed it as a “BOMB” in his Movie Guide. Although why Leonard gave it less of a rating than Friday the 13th Part VII, I’m not sure.
Popeye was generally panned by critics (although Siskel & Ebert defended it). It was labelled a box office bomb, yet the film actually made $60,000,000 worldwide (from a $20 million budget). It was the #12 box office success of the year, out-grossing such films as The Shining and Raging Bull. Not exactly a “bomb.” Robin Williams himself once joked on SNL that Popeye had been a #1 movie– in Turkey. But later, in a 2014 interview, he expressed how grateful he was to have worked with Robert Altman.
Many have tried to consign the film to Davy Jones’ Locker, hoping it will remain in oblivion once and for all. But forty years later, the film has risen to the surface once again, and it still delivers a wallop. We live in an age now where comic-inspired movies are nothing more than a corporate brand, lacking any semblance of a personal vision. But Altman brought an artistry to Popeye and gave the film a heart, and that’s why Popeye remains with us.
Robert Altman passed away in 2006. And of course, Robin is gone now too. It’s already been four years since his tragic passing. Popeye was his first starring movie, and since it was one of the first movies I ever saw in a theatre, I will always be grateful to Robin for creating this wonderful characterization.
At the risk of getting clunked in the head with a can of spinach, at least by some members of our audience, I do intend to bring this childhood favorite to the Pickwick Theatre. Theatrical screenings in recent years bring out the best in Popeye. The response, particularly with kids, is enthusiastic. December 2020 would have been the ideal time with the anniversary, but the pandemic has shut everything down. One day, though, Popeye will row his boat into the safe harbor of the Pickwick, and we will hear the “Sweethaven” anthem filling the cavernous Megatheatre.
“God will always bless Sweethaven.“
And we’ll open that night with a Max Fleischer Popeye cartoon.
~MCH
