May 10, 2012 § 2 Comments
Ask any Elvis fan: Clambake is the movie where everybody involved has just stopped trying. Elvis’s love for forbidden foods was legendary, and he’d clearly been engaging in a few too many prior to filming. (Priscilla claimed it was stress-eating due to his misery over the quality of the script.) He films a waterskiing scene with a jacket on rather than blow his heartthrob image by letting us see his less-than-flat stomach. He didn’t even bother to get a tan before the movie started, despite the fact that he’s playing a Texas oil baron’s son who’s working as a waterskiing instructor at a Florida resort. Some biographers even mark Clambake as the point of escalation for Elvis’s prescription drug abuse: like Judy Garland, doctors prescribed Elvis uppers to combat the weight gain. Clambake‘s songs are universally lousy or forgettable, including the oft-cited “High Hopes” rip-off “Confidence. As for the plot, it’s basically writers taking all the typical Elvis elements and throwing them in a blender. The only remotely original part of the script (and then only “original” as applied to Elvis) is that the usual elements are superimposed on a “The Prince and the Pauper” plot where rich kid Elvis trades places with a poor waterskiing instructor so that he can interact with girls knowing that they like him for him, not his money. Of course he falls for wannabe trophy wife Shelley Fabares, who takes her sweet time falling back because she’s holding out for a millionaire. Ultimately Elvis reveals his secret to her and everyone ends up happy. Oh, and there’s a boat race. And a clambake that isn’t really a clambake. The end.
Basically the only people who weren’t slacking on their jobs were the set designers. The resort’s bar is a glorious pseudo-Moroccan wonderland filtered through the eyes of someone on an acid trip. (The bartenders wear fezzes and the waitresses, harem pants.) The actual clambake set involves tiki torches, trampolines, and dancers shimmying on the roofs of beach houses. The overdone decor even extends to the hotel lobby and the boathouse where Elvis hangs out, but my favorite part of the entire set is the suite belonging to the rich dude who competes with Elvis for Miss Fabares’ attention. Picture this, if you will: A white and black tiled checkerboard floor. A white chenille sofa on which Shelley Fabares sits while she’s being serenaded by the rich dude’s white, gilded player piano. The serenade is accompanied by drinks from the white pleather-padded bar with marble walls so shiny you can see your reflection in them. Oh, and the costumes weren’t bad either (see the photo above for a few more understated examples). It almost makes me feel like I’m at Graceland.