A strained attempt to combine horror movie cliches with the lightweight double-entendre humor of comic team Rowan and Martin, THE MALTESE BIPPY was made during the height of the duo's hit TV show "Laugh-In."
Ernest Grey (Dick Martin) is the long-suffering, ostensibly wealthy cash cow for huckster Sam Smith. The two are first seen making a nudie flick that is interrupted by a police raid, sending them to Ernest's mansion, a rickety boarding house includes a college student Robin (Carol Lynley), who becomes Ernest's love interest , and a wisecracking housekeeper (Mildred Natwick).
The mansion abuts a cemetery, the scene of a recent murder in which the victim was partially eaten (this, in a film that was rated G!). The police interrogation suggests a werewolf may be on the loose, and Ernest complains of a strange urge to drop to all fours and howl. The werewolf theory is quickly adopted by Ernest's psychiatrist (David Hurst), and Sam encourages him to make the transformation as part of a stage show.
The next door neighbors include a count (Fritz Weaver), whose maniacal hound threatens the cast at inopportune moments, and a presumed baroness (Julie Newmar) who believes Ernest is her jilted lover, Count Igor. They pretend to be werewolves who want to initiate Ernest into their family. But the entire werewolf bit is a ruse that gives the characters frequent access to Ernest's mansion. They're really after a precious gem hidden somewhere in the house.
THE MALTESE BIPPY is amusing when playing with the viewer's understanding of film lore, but the bulk of the action is a trite collection of double-takes and unfunny jokes. A dream sequence of Ernest becoming a wolf man is a highlight, with a lot of fast-motion running around and slapstick gags in the dusty tradition of a Keystone Cops movie.
THE MALTESE BIPPY breaks out of its relentless mediocrity in a clever finale, in which Ernest and Sam take turns creating new endings to the film's story. Characters who were killed get up and die again -- or not -- rising and falling in reverse and fast motion. The ultimate ending is so ridiculous one can sense the filmmakers literally had nothing to lose, and the 90-minute marker was coming up fast.
The movie did nothing to extend the careers of Rowan and Martin, whose only other movie was made 11 years earlier (ONCE UPON A HORSE, which was funnier) and who sank into obscurity when Laugh-In's run ended.
Ernest Grey (Dick Martin) is the long-suffering, ostensibly wealthy cash cow for huckster Sam Smith. The two are first seen making a nudie flick that is interrupted by a police raid, sending them to Ernest's mansion, a rickety boarding house includes a college student Robin (Carol Lynley), who becomes Ernest's love interest , and a wisecracking housekeeper (Mildred Natwick).
The mansion abuts a cemetery, the scene of a recent murder in which the victim was partially eaten (this, in a film that was rated G!). The police interrogation suggests a werewolf may be on the loose, and Ernest complains of a strange urge to drop to all fours and howl. The werewolf theory is quickly adopted by Ernest's psychiatrist (David Hurst), and Sam encourages him to make the transformation as part of a stage show.
The next door neighbors include a count (Fritz Weaver), whose maniacal hound threatens the cast at inopportune moments, and a presumed baroness (Julie Newmar) who believes Ernest is her jilted lover, Count Igor. They pretend to be werewolves who want to initiate Ernest into their family. But the entire werewolf bit is a ruse that gives the characters frequent access to Ernest's mansion. They're really after a precious gem hidden somewhere in the house.
THE MALTESE BIPPY is amusing when playing with the viewer's understanding of film lore, but the bulk of the action is a trite collection of double-takes and unfunny jokes. A dream sequence of Ernest becoming a wolf man is a highlight, with a lot of fast-motion running around and slapstick gags in the dusty tradition of a Keystone Cops movie.
THE MALTESE BIPPY breaks out of its relentless mediocrity in a clever finale, in which Ernest and Sam take turns creating new endings to the film's story. Characters who were killed get up and die again -- or not -- rising and falling in reverse and fast motion. The ultimate ending is so ridiculous one can sense the filmmakers literally had nothing to lose, and the 90-minute marker was coming up fast.
The movie did nothing to extend the careers of Rowan and Martin, whose only other movie was made 11 years earlier (ONCE UPON A HORSE, which was funnier) and who sank into obscurity when Laugh-In's run ended.