What would happen to an ad agency circa 1969 that became appropriated by a cell of black radicals led by a gravel-voiced man with an affection for Fidel Castro duds? Watching "Putney Swope" doesn't offer much of an answer, but its quicksilver style and dark humor makes for a fascinating if frustrating experience.
A Manhattan agency struggles with loser clients, less than a million a day in gross earnings, and a CEO splayed dead in the boardroom. To replace him, the board members (proscribed from voting for themselves) all cast their secret-ballot votes for the board's token black, Putney Swope (Arnold Johnson) knowing he won't win. Guess what? After taking control, Swope decides he'd rather sink the boat than rock it, replacing the white guys with various "brothers" and filling the airwaves with tasteless but surprisingly effective commercials.
A counterculture sleeper hit when it came out in 1969, "Putney Swope" is not a story so much as a loose collection of blackout sketches tied to the strange title character, who has moral qualms about marketing booze, tobacco, and war toys but treats both staff and clients with naked contempt.
Confronting a group of ingratiating clients, Swope (whose voice is dubbed throughout the film very gratingly by writer-director Robert Downey Sr.) demands a million each in cash, no please or thank you.
"Give us the name of your product, what its supposed to do, then take a walk," he says. "We don't need lames in the hallway."
"Putney Swope" starts strong, opening with the white board members and Swope taking a meeting from a strange guy in jackboots, Nazi regalia, and a motorcycle jacket emblazoned with the words: "MENSA Chapter." He turns out to be a consultant who gives a four-sentence speech about beer and is gone. Then they get to arguing. One objects to Swope's recommendation about dropping war toys: "Deny a young boy the right to have a toy gun, and you'll suppress his destructive urges and he'll turn out to be a homosexual, or worse."
Soon after the takeover occurs, however, the film loses its way. Downey seems at a loss as to what to do with Swope, and shifts the story into a series of vignettes about black radicalism and commercial parodies. The parodies run on too long and often misfire. The race angle is more interestingly presented, not so much because Downey is really exploring it so much as using it as a handy third- rail for his politically incorrect comedy. It's bold and daring but more than a little gormless, too.
One worker suggests replacing coffee breaks with watermelon breaks. As two black men drag out a white client, he exclaims that he feels like an Oreo cookie. As he makes love to a woman in her bedroom, Swope pulls down her Sidney Poitier poster.
"Every single account pulled out!"
"I wish I pulled out! Too many dependents, baby!"
Johnson seems lost in the central role, which I blame on Downey taking away his voice. Downey claimed he had to do this because Johnson kept forgetting his lines. If so, why didn't Downey let Johnson dub himself?
Downey also spends too much time on Antonio Fargas, who wears Arab get-up (Swope: "Who do you think you are? Lawrence of Nigeria?") and talks a blue streak in what Downey says in his DVD commentary was largely improvisation. Fargas has the right in-your-face tone for this film, but his talking for effect becomes more wearying than funny.
The best things about "Putney Swope" are the way it moves (credit editor Bud S. Smith and Downey) and the score by Charley Cuva, which is often brilliant. As a time capsule, it's fascinating, and you will laugh more than once. But it leaves an empty feeling.
A Manhattan agency struggles with loser clients, less than a million a day in gross earnings, and a CEO splayed dead in the boardroom. To replace him, the board members (proscribed from voting for themselves) all cast their secret-ballot votes for the board's token black, Putney Swope (Arnold Johnson) knowing he won't win. Guess what? After taking control, Swope decides he'd rather sink the boat than rock it, replacing the white guys with various "brothers" and filling the airwaves with tasteless but surprisingly effective commercials.
A counterculture sleeper hit when it came out in 1969, "Putney Swope" is not a story so much as a loose collection of blackout sketches tied to the strange title character, who has moral qualms about marketing booze, tobacco, and war toys but treats both staff and clients with naked contempt.
Confronting a group of ingratiating clients, Swope (whose voice is dubbed throughout the film very gratingly by writer-director Robert Downey Sr.) demands a million each in cash, no please or thank you.
"Give us the name of your product, what its supposed to do, then take a walk," he says. "We don't need lames in the hallway."
"Putney Swope" starts strong, opening with the white board members and Swope taking a meeting from a strange guy in jackboots, Nazi regalia, and a motorcycle jacket emblazoned with the words: "MENSA Chapter." He turns out to be a consultant who gives a four-sentence speech about beer and is gone. Then they get to arguing. One objects to Swope's recommendation about dropping war toys: "Deny a young boy the right to have a toy gun, and you'll suppress his destructive urges and he'll turn out to be a homosexual, or worse."
Soon after the takeover occurs, however, the film loses its way. Downey seems at a loss as to what to do with Swope, and shifts the story into a series of vignettes about black radicalism and commercial parodies. The parodies run on too long and often misfire. The race angle is more interestingly presented, not so much because Downey is really exploring it so much as using it as a handy third- rail for his politically incorrect comedy. It's bold and daring but more than a little gormless, too.
One worker suggests replacing coffee breaks with watermelon breaks. As two black men drag out a white client, he exclaims that he feels like an Oreo cookie. As he makes love to a woman in her bedroom, Swope pulls down her Sidney Poitier poster.
"Every single account pulled out!"
"I wish I pulled out! Too many dependents, baby!"
Johnson seems lost in the central role, which I blame on Downey taking away his voice. Downey claimed he had to do this because Johnson kept forgetting his lines. If so, why didn't Downey let Johnson dub himself?
Downey also spends too much time on Antonio Fargas, who wears Arab get-up (Swope: "Who do you think you are? Lawrence of Nigeria?") and talks a blue streak in what Downey says in his DVD commentary was largely improvisation. Fargas has the right in-your-face tone for this film, but his talking for effect becomes more wearying than funny.
The best things about "Putney Swope" are the way it moves (credit editor Bud S. Smith and Downey) and the score by Charley Cuva, which is often brilliant. As a time capsule, it's fascinating, and you will laugh more than once. But it leaves an empty feeling.