The Bobo (1967) Review

Famous comedian Peter Sellers anchors an excellent cast in this inconsequential yet highly enjoyable comedy about a penniless bullfighter tasked with seducing a beautiful gold digger. Gently charming humor, well written characters, and note perfect performances highlight this little known gem from the great comedian’s career. It also illustrates just why one should never trust a singing matador.

Ah, the 1960s. Though there was much going on in that decade, one defining characteristic of the era is all but forgotten today. That would be the airy and sometimes witty comedies from Europe that graced the silver screen like effervescent bubbles floating through the air. Often they were international productions filmed in Italy or England and featured actors from all over. These films were whimsically entertaining in a way that simply isn’t seen in today’s more vicious and crude culture.

Being old enough to have grown up with reruns of the genre on television, I grew rather fond of them during my childhood. But even then they were fading away so recountings of certain movies were told to me by my late mother and half brothers. One they kept regaling me about was The Bobo which turned out to be very obscure. In fact, I didn’t get to see it until the late 1990s on a cable movie channel.

Fortunately for me, the film was just as funny as they claimed.

The movie starts out innocently enough with a helicopter shot of a statue of Jesus Christ on top of a spire before panning out to reveal it is overlooking an amusement park. There appears to be a subtle message to this pretty piece of framing, perhaps one of God watching from on high the circus that humans can make of their lives. As the shot continues the credits float up in bold old Western typeface while we are treated to a long introduction of the city of Barcelona, Spain.

A quote is put on screen that reads as follows:

It is said in Barcelona “A Bobo is a Bobo!” Gipsy Proverb XCVIII

Don’t bother looking up the word “bobo” because all you will get is the endangered ape and a more modern usage attributed to political writer David Brook. I’m assuming it was made up by the screenplay writer, David R. Schwartz, given that he’d adapted his own play and novel.

Eventually the continuous shot comes to an end and settles on something. In this case, the final object of the camera’s attention is a white Triumph Spitfire convertible driven by a beautiful blonde with long flowing hair. She’s the kind of girl who stops traffic, however there is something even more head turning that has stopped her: a light blue Maserati Mistral Spyder in a showroom. From the hazy lens focus, it appears to be love at first sight.

“Olimpia!” is heard from the mouth of the dapper dealer, Flores (Ferdy Mayne) and you’ll be hearing that name called out often, for the girl is the object of many a Barcelonan man’s desire. She’s his mistress and Flores may be interested in setting up a rendezvous, but Olimpia Segura (Britt Ekland) is far more intrigued by the fact the car matches the bow in her dog’s hair. She doesn’t even notice running over his foot when she peels out.

With that, we have met the two objects coveted and pursued in the story, a beautiful young woman and a lovely sports car. Or is it a lovely young woman and a beautiful sports car? I’m uncertain.

One thing I’m certain of is that the men in the story are going to be played for idiots and that proves to be the case. In a café across from Olimpia’s apartment, two men hang out along with the owner. One is a blithering rejected mess pining for the blonde who conned him out of his own apartment. Gamazo (Kenneth Griffith) is a bespectacled weakling treated with amused disdain by the two others, especially Carbonell (Adolfo Celi), the local theater impresario.

Entering the picture is a stranger to town, one Juan Bautista (Peter Sellers). Remember that name for he’ll be famous one day. Broke and looking for work, the man’s a cocky idiot with more nerve than charisma. With the latter necessary for a show business career, it appears his choice of being a singing matador is not an improvement on his failure to be a simple matador.

Juan may run from the bulls, but he certainly shows a willingness to test his luck with Carbonell. Determinedly ad libbing a song, his skill as a singer is questionable at best, though it does enthrall the old drunk who is a regular at the café.

Check out that vintage pinball machine in the above right screen capture. It’s a Gottlieb Royal Flush from 1957 featuring wood construction in the cabinet rather than metal. They don’t make them like that anymore, much like this movie.

That isn’t to say the cast is wooden for they are anything but. Much of that can be attributed to the smart script they had to work with. I’d say there is quite a bit of the theater in the performances since each character is at least a little over the top, with the exception of the café owner, Gomez (Alfredo Lettieri). His being relatively normal aids him in stealing a few moments in a movie where the director allows everyone to shine.

Whether it be Olimpia blackmailing Flores while conning Gamazo yet again or Juan’s ridiculous attempts to get a singing gig, everything (or perhaps everyone) is a tad insane and shady. That is what makes this movie so much fun to watch, though there are no clear “good guys” to root for.

At least there is Sellers’ character who is somewhat sympathetic. Juan reminds me of a cartoon character from Looney Tunes in that he never stops trying despite rejection and never realizes how ridiculous he looks in the process. While Bautista obviously isn’t trustworthy, the matador appears to be the most harmless.

Wait, Gamazo may be as harmless. Then again, the nerdy man is worse than harmless since he’s a whipped wimp reduced to whimpering “Olimpia…” over and over. Here is a perfect example of the kind of guy women don’t want, especially the beautiful ones. Somehow he isn’t aware of it.

What do women really want? Sports cars if Olimpia is any example. Forget the guys, it’s the goods she desires. One of the top billed performers in the movie is Rossano Brazzi playing Carlos Matabosch in a throwaway part. His smooth businessman becomes quickly falls into Olimpia’s snare, yet it feels like he walked in from another flick. Oddly, he has little screen time for being such a popular actor in Europe at the time.

Proving that both sexes are conniving, Carbonell recruits the desperate Bautista to seduce Olimpia in exchange for one week of performances and 2000 pesetas. Oh and “Bautista” flashing in green lights, mustn't forget that. Juan makes sure of that with each encounter with the impresario.

Tasked with specific terms for the wager and three days to achieve it, the self proclaimed ladies man takes his own sweet time getting started – much to Carbonell’s annoyance and everyone else’s amusement. Did I say amusement? Make that bafflement for people on the street watching Juan mock fight the Maserati. Sellers’ talent at physical comedy was always immense and he would have been a success even in the silent film era.

While slow to move, he does come up with a plan. However, it isn’t the direct route being employed by the cowardly bull fighter. Instead, an elaborate ruse involving a nobleman interested in meeting Olimpia is spun to ensnare her. With that, the story begins in earnest.

The Bobo is not without its flaws and it is about this point in the movie the biggest shows up.

Today, a movie being interrupted for a five minute sequence of dancing by someone not in the main cast is unthinkable unless it’s made by David Lynch. But hey, the ‘60s were different. So when a huge chunk of the 105 minute time is taken to showcase La Chana and the Los Tarantos Flamenco Company it grinds the story to a halt. This misstep would be unforgiveable if it weren’t for how hypnotically fascinating the La Chana’s staccato footwork is. Unlike the filmmakers’, every one of her steps is executed with amazing power and precision.

At least the scene sets up a great punch line from Sellers and reaction from Ekland.

The whole seduction effort plays to Olimpia’s greed and youth, for a woman of more years wouldn’t get sucked into the ludicrous claims of Bautista or his extravagant excuses on behalf of the Count. Half the fun is watching the brash matador walk a tightrope without a safety net while teetering dangerously close to a fall. Complicating his task is his tendency to get caught up in the moment due to the beautiful girl’s obvious charms.

An excursion to a lavish lovers getaway in the countryside provides some memorable moments thanks to it being over the top in every way conceivable. The Retreat even has a cutting edge remote control for the ceiling television set, mood music, lights, and everything else. Check out the size of the massive thing, it looks like it ran off of camping lantern batteries. It also has a “Later” button that actually works in a very clever edit.

Slowly but surely Juan sets himself up as Olimpia’s champion as the evening continues. However, time is running out for him to win the wager with Carbonell. He may have the gold digger’s attention, yet it is her heart he must win over.

Will Olimpia succumb to Juan’s scheme? Will Bautista flash over and over in green lights? And just what is a “bobo” anyway?

Thoughts

The Bobo is not a movie for everyone. Slow moving and talky, it is from an era when audiences had longer attention spans and an understanding of subtleties. Quite a bit of the humor is wry and worldly, though there is plenty of silliness to chuckle at as well. Think of it as a gentler and less mean spirited Seinfeld in that all the characters are self serving jerks whose actions land them in amusing situations.

Normally Peter Sellers could carry a movie by himself. That isn’t the case here thanks to the superb acting of his costars. Make no mistake about it, he’s still the star and delivers a nuanced performance of the very proud and somewhat dim conniving matador. Chemistry with Ekland makes their scenes believable though their real life marriage would end a mere year after this film’s release.

In regards to Britt, she’s perfectly cast as the self indulgent woman-child, Olimpia. Still young enough looking to pass as a teenager, the bombshell nails the immaturity at the core of the seductress. The girl may be cutting a swath through the well to do men of Barcelona, but she’s still a child at heart.

Adolfo Celi may have been overdubbed by another actor, yet his performance is simply fantastic with hints of Carbonell’s underlying darkness leaking through his every movement. Unlike the rest, there’s a lurking sense of dangerousness to the theater owner. It makes for some great drama by the end.

Speaking of the ending without actually giving it away, it is not your typical Hollywood resolution. Most of the movie is enjoyable if insubstantial, but not the ending. It rings true and is what made the movie for me.

Not rated, The Bobo is somewhere around PG in my opinion. There are adult situations given the whole story is about the attempted seduction of a seductress. No nudity (other than classical statues) or profanity is involved, so I think teens could handle it – if the slow story doesn’t bore them. Crass and vulgar humor is nowhere to be found, which is not something that can be said of modern movies.

Comedies like this simply aren’t made any more and the world is poorer for their absence. I recommend this movie to those who like ‘60s movies, Peter Sellers fans, and those who like their comedies with a dash of romance.

Technical

Warner Archives Collection has made this rarity available through their burn on demand DVD service to my delight. It is a barebones DVD with no extras and only a simple menu. The disc can be stepped through in ten minute increments with no scene index.

Not a remaster, the transfer shows its age but is in fairly good condition. Presented in anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen, the colors are well saturated, contrast good, and the picture sharp. There is quite a bit of grain (and dirt in some scenes) which I’ll accept more than over aggressive denoising. That has plagued even Blu-ray releases of old films and is something to avoid.

The only audio is English Dolby Digital Monaural and is clear without any issues I could detect. I was unable to find any subtitles or captioning for the hearing impaired.

Packaging is nice and looks more professional than some in the Warner Archives Collection. A vintage poster was used for the front cover and does somewhat spoil the ending, though a lot of promo material did back then.

BEWARE! HERE BE SPOILERS!!!

 

 

 

 

All those false apologies delivered on behalf of the count should have tipped off Olimpia, but the lure of 250,000 pesetas never fails to get her hooked again. That greed of hers leads to the most nerve wracking part of the con for Juan for some poetic justice to balance things out. The furrier’s desperate desire to make a sale is successfully played for purely comic effect despite being the hammiest performance of the film.

Ah, the goodbye kiss Olimpia gives when she thinks she’ll never see Juan again. If it hadn’t been obvious before that she was falling for him, this makes it undoubtable. It’s also oddly sweet due to her having no ulterior motives for once.

With only one night left for the bet to be completed, Carbonell is obsessive as ever, settling in for a long stake out of Olimpia’s apartment. He gets creepier as the story progresses, the slime.

At last the conquest comes to fruition with yet another false apology being delivered by Juan. This time his appearance in a matadors “suit of lights” seems to be the perfect final touch, at least that’s what Olimpia’s inviting looks implies.

A scene stealer throughout the movie, Hattie Jacques as the maid had me laughing at her reaction to the kiss. Pure disgust has never been better portrayed.

The maid does get to say “I told you so.” Olimpia’s really being a teenager is never more obvious than in the finale. Between her stuffed animals having to be thrown out of her bedroom or her stunned realization that she had been conned, the little girl inside is never more apparent than here.

Her revenge on Juan is original and something I heard about a lot from my family growing up. Dying someone blue is a pretty effective threat as punishment for wrong doing, at least to a little kid.

You have to give it to Juan, he kept his air of dignity even in the most undignified of circumstances. His new hue leads to some very funny lines from all three involved and an unexpected deflation of tension. It’s an absolutely terrific scene.

That kiss to the back of the hand was the moment the audience could see both their hearts broke, at least a little. Their parting words hold no hostility and make for a sad goodbye filled with an air of loss. They’ve fallen for each other after all.

It isn’t everyday you see a blue man walking down the street (San Francisco possibly excepted) so this shot filmed in Barcelona appears like it had real onlookers puzzling over Sellers. His dignity never wavering, he strode proudly down the avenue like a proper Goon should. Look up The Goon Show to understand.

Always the optimist looking to turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse, Juan has a new idea on how to promote himself. Carbonell doesn’t care, he wants every detail of what Olimpia was like in bed. His façade discarded, the bitter and sleazy man is absolutely venomous when Juan plays the gentleman and lies that nothing happened. It is a great performance that makes one despise the theater owner.

Juan never did get his name in flashing green lights, but he did get hired by somebody. Now even more of a novelty act than he’d planned, Bautista now fights bulls with terrible singing rather than a cape and sword. Here I thought killing the bulls was inhumane…

Driving by the arena with her new wealthy boyfriend, Olimpia stops when she sees the poster. Asked if she’d like to go in to see the show, she wistfully replies, “No, when you’ve seen one singing blue matador, you’ve seen them all.”

That may be the best line of the movie.