Refried Flicks thinks so and has found a niche reviving bad movies (one so far) through the addition of new dialogue. They took a B movie from the public domain (an expired copyright speaks to how bad it was), recorded new dialogue and added a few scenes, and released it as their own. In this case, Killers From Space (1954) was reborn as Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (2002).

If someone had sent me a YouTube link featuring a few select scenes from this film, I may have found it brilliant, especially if it were under ten minutes. But Refried Flicks made their re-creation longer than the original film’s already lengthy 71 minute running time. And while I do appreciate a good act of subversive art, I want it to rise above fart jokes and stereotypes about gay people for over an hour.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT) did make me laugh out loud a couple times, but the original movie may have had the same effect in a “it’s so bad it’s almost good” way. DADT, however, had potential to be much more than a sophomoric retelling of the original. While the premise works as a commentary on the military’s idiotic policy toward homosexuals in the armed forces, their addition of tired jokes about the current administration did not flow with the original footage. They could have taken a few lessons from Todd Haynes’s Far From Heaven and kept the focus on the period of the original movie, letting their message about today’s policies speak on their own, while still maintaining the humor. DADT was released early in Act I of the current administration, before most of us started suffering outrage fatigue, so maybe the Bush-Cheney jokes were fresher then.

The main character, Doug Fartin (Martin in the original) who is played by Peter Graves, is abducted by aliens and transformed into a gay man as part of a plot by the aliens to turn everyone into a homosexual. The primary gay-determining factor is that he uses the word fabulous all the time. There is one scene in the original film that has strong gay overtones, but it is overshadowed by the flimsy use of cheeky dialogue and accents.

DADT’s added scenes also detract from the film’s potential. Aside from being way over the top and poorly acted, the new scenes don’t hold up on their own and are not matched well with the original. It also doesn’t help that one person plays almost all the characters in the added scenes, and he’s no Eddie Murphy. The film does include some added gratuitous nudity here and there, which signals a last-minute move by the filmmakers to keep some people interested.

The filmmakers surely didn’t intend this piece as a reel for their sound work. On top of the poor sound, the music was annoying. Sometimes, good sound or a few decent tunes can fill in gaps in the acting or story. They only dug themselves a deeper hole.

Having said all that, any serious film geek needs to watch this movie. The filmmakers broke new ground with their use of blueberry pancakes. It is one of the few added scenes worth keeping, and, while poorly shot, it is a scene that you need to be able to reference in your film history and theory repertoire. Imagine being at a party with a bunch of film buffs and one says, “I’m so hungry I could eat blueberry pancakes off your butt.” As they’re laughing, you’re trying to figure out what film they’re referencing. Actually, now that I’ve told you, you needn’t watch the film.

Refried Flicks had a good idea but not enough time nor money to spend on the execution. If you want a better idea of what the movie is like without adding it to your Netflix queue, download Killers From Space from archive.org, invite some friends over, and watch it with the sound off. Every time you see Peter Graves and any other character on screen, use a funny voice to say, “Hey, Mr. Fartin” and then use a regular voice to say, “It’s pronounced far-tayn!” From there, make up your own dialogue. Turn it into a drinking game. Whatever you end up with, it can’t be much worse than Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

This review is part of the Second Annual White Elephant Film Blogathon.

The book would have resonated with me had I read it as a young adult, since the main character fulfills a dream I had as a teenage skateboarder—moving to California. I enjoyed the book as a grown-up because I love the film, which struck a nerve with me as a young man. Three aspects of the film won me over when I first watched Rumble Fish: Diane Lane as a model of my ideal girlfriend, the theme of getting out of a place where I felt stuck, and the soundtrack. At least two of those still hold true.

Rumble Fish, however, was not well received by critics. My sense is that most of them were over 25 and that they expected something more from Coppola at the time, like Godfather 3. As a nineteen-year-old male, it spoke to me and remains my favorite Coppola film to date, flaws and all.

Since Coppola worked with the author on the screenplay, the film is faithful to its source material. The young adult novel (135 pages) can be read in the amount of time it takes to watch the film, which doesn’t leave much material to drop from the film. Coppola, undoubtedly, knew exactly what the script would need to make a successful adaptation.

The book begins and ends with a latter-day meeting of Rusty James (the main character played by Matt Dillon) and his former best friend Steve, the nerdy one. That bookending device was wisely cut from the script. I’m probably biased by the film, but I tend to dislike most bookending devices in films and literature. Just tell me the story. I don’t need a prologue and epilogue to make me feel better.

The film places more emphasis on the relationship between Rusty James and his girlfriend Patty (Diane Lane), which results in a cutback on the novel’s focus on the buddy story Between Rusty James and Steve. While the smart and cautious Steve plays an important contrasting role to Dillon’s confused and brawny character, he’s too annoying a character to want to see on the screen for long. This results in the complete omission in the film of chapter four from the book, which primarily exists to show Steve’s loyalty to Rusty James, even when he’s doing stupid stuff like stealing hubcaps.

The early fight scene in the film comes off more powerfully than the book version. The book relies too much on what Rusty James is thinking instead of on straight forward action. This is also the scene when The Motorcycle Boy (played by Mickey Rourke) returns. The Motorcycle Boy, Rusty James’s older brother, holds a semi-legendary status in the town for his past gang fighting. Add their alcoholic dad played by Dennis Hopper and you have the perfect family.

While I agree with the writers’ decision not to focus as much on Steve and Rusty James, they were not always successful in their additions to the love story. One of the weakest scenes in the film is where they added dialogue for Patty to explain her love for the not-book-smart Rusty James. The film had an excellent chance to improve on the book by ending the scene sooner. Instead, it offers the corniest bit of dialogue in the film.

Another problem with the film is where it is obvious where shadows were painted on the front of Patty’s house for the scene mentioned above, a night scene. Later in the movie, a scene during the day (shot from a different angle) shows the front of the house, still with painted shadows and all. It wouldn’t be too bad if the framing of that shot didn’t highlight the front of the house but it’s difficult not to stare at those painted shadows.

The film could have been much better if more attention were paid to the details, even in the sound department. Although some excellent sound design moments exist, too many dialogue bits seem to float in the air. Fortunately, Rumble Fish has one of the best soundtracks ever (Stewart Copland) to make up for those pitfalls.

Overall, I never get tired of watching this film. And, now, having read the book, I feel the film did an outstanding job of improving on a book that is easy to overlook.