Misunderstood Masterpieces 1.21.08: The Rosebud Beach Hotel

Posted by Will Helm on 01.21.2008

…or, The Best Little Whorehouse in . . . Florida?

Though I'm sure to have mentioned it in the past, no genre seems as forgotten in modern recent cinema than the late-‘70s and early-‘80s innovation referred to lovingly by me as the "titcom." Best embodied by films such as Porky's, Bachelor Party, Private School, and Revenge of the Nerds, these films contained wacky humor combined with a remarkably laissez-faire attitude toward female nudity. In addition, these films would later make up a large portion of the late-night rotation on HBO and, in horribly edited form, kill time during Comedy Central's boring afternoons, much to the delight of adolescent boys around the country.

For some reason, sadly, "titcoms" fell out of favor in the late ‘80s, replaced by either relatively squeaky-clean PG-13 comedies or, on the other end of the spectrum, hackneyed "erotic thrillers" of the "Skinemax" ilk. Alas, other than some big titles, many of these films have been forgotten by the DVD revolution. Luckily, a few obscure distribution companies have taken the chance of buying the rights to some of these forgotten works and, consequently, releasing them on DVD. One such film is the obscure 1984 classic The Rosebud Beach Hotel. Perhaps taking a tip from the aforementioned Bachelor Party, The Rosebud Beach Hotel stars another member of the cast of Bosom Buddies, this time alongside a horde of B-movie regulars – including another "star" of Bachelor Party – and, strangely, a horror icon. Do this pedigree and the influence of a far more famous movie elevate this obscure "titcom" to greater heights? Or is it, even, a Misunderstood Masterpiece? Let's find out!

The film, sadly, doesn't begin on the right note as the opening credits look as though they've been lifted from an ‘80s TV drama, complete with yacht rock and clips of the principal actors. In all honesty, actually, the film does feel like a television pilot that, somehow, turned into a titcom somewhere along the line. Anyway, after the woefully underwhelming credits, Peter Scolari – the OTHER star of Bosom Buddies – meets with some upper-class HOT CHICK (Colleen Camp) for lunch. Apparently, the upper-class HOT CHICK wants Scolari to make a decision about his future – I have a hunch it probably involves a large diamond ring; the upper-class HOT CHICK, however, swerves me by revealing that it's about her father's offer of a job for Scolari, her perspective suitor. After a few moments of deliberation, Scolari takes the job . . . as a hotel manager in Florida. I do love the fact that this film doesn't waste any time getting right to the plot. Thank you for your efficiency, movie!

Elsewhere, the upper-class HOT CHICK's father, Saruman (Christopher Lee) fences with an overwhelmed assistant in his mansion. Saruman, apparently, is looking for "new blood" for his hotel in Florida, which is why Scolari got the job. Of course, perhaps the fact that the hotel is doomed to failure and he wants his daughter to dump Scolari because of it has a lot to do with his job offer. Down at the titular Rosebud Beach Hotel, Scolari and the upper-class HOT CHICK arrive – though she's there against her father's knowledge – while the outgoing manager (Chuck McCann) gives his staff a pep talk. After the speech, the outgoing manager introduces Scolari and, in lieu of more boring speeches, Scolari and his upper-class HOT CHICK retire to their room where they plan on GETTING IT ON. Unfortunately for them and their libidos, they're rudely interrupted by the hotel's hapless bellhops (Jonathan Schmock and James Vallely) and twin HOT CHICK maids (Marie and Cherie Currie). In any other world, that sounds like the set-up to an orgy, but, alas, not here. This is a respectable establishment, after all.

Later, Scolari and the upper-class HOT CHICK have a tour of the premises with the outgoing manager. Down in the basement, he introduces the new management team to the hotel's creepy, post-traumatic-stress-disorder-suffering maintenance man (Hank Garrett) . . . and his fallout shelter, complete with a still. Because, if there's a nuclear apocalypse, the first thing any survivors would want is liquor. After returning from the bowels of the hotel, Scolari and the upper-class HOT CHICK meet with two elderly florists/narcotics entrepreneurs and Eddie Deezen, who apparently thinks he's an alien from another planet. Sure . . . whatever, movie. And here I thought just letting him be a nerd was sufficient. Oh, and there's also an oiled-up muscled guy (Daniel Greene), who's probably just there for sexual shenanigans as the movie's resident dumb stud guy.

Later that day, Scolari and the upper-class HOT CHICK discover, while walking the hotel's halls, that the HOT CHICK maids are actually talented singers after eavesdropping on an impromptu rehearsal. Rather than telling the twins to keep it down, Scolari and the upper-class HOT CHICK encourage their charges' side project, though I'm sure nothing will come of it. Even though I've already seen the whole movie and should probably know otherwise. Maybe I'm just building suspense, then? Back at his mansion, Scaramanga broods and then he calls some creepy arsonist (Hamilton Camp) with the plan of burning down the hotel and collecting the insurance money. Dum-dum-DUM!

That night, the upper-class HOT CHICK compliments Scolari's newfound managerial skills and then she tells him what to wear for that evening's proceedings. Of course he complies, mainly because the upper-class HOT CHICK plans on repaying him with sex. I'd say that's not a bad deal. While Scolari, presumably, dons what the upper-class HOT CHICK ordered him to, the upper-class HOT CHICK chats with the wacky bellhops and then they watch as foxy Fran Drescher and some bald guy check into the hotel together. The wacky bellhops, being knowledgeable to the goings on at the hotel, reveal that foxy Fran Drescher isn't just a guest, but also a hooker. Rather than that revelation disturbing the upper-class HOT CHICK's sensibilities, she's intrigued by the news and, hence, she and the wacky bellhops hatch a little scheme. To that end, the upper-class HOT CHICK and the wacky bellhops interrupt foxy Fran Drescher and the bald guy's proceedings and the wacky bellhops shoo the bald guy out of the room. Thankfully, he's still relatively clothed. Whew. After the bald guy exits, the upper-class HOT CHICK offers foxy Fran Drescher a job at the hotel as bellhop manager . . . and staff hooker. Apparently, the upper-class HOT CHICK wants a staff of female HOT CHICK bellhops who aren't afraid to work for tips . . . or the whole thing.

[Insert rimshot here.]

That evening, the upper-class HOT CHICK brainwashes Scolari into agreeing to her rather amoral scheme – I guess, under that upper-class façade, she's actually a quite liberated woman – while the outgoing manager gives his going-away speech. Scolari, after, responds with a socially inept, bizarre, rambling speech before the HOT CHICK twins take the stage and rock out to kick off a musical montage. Ah, yet another classic element of the early ‘80s vintage titcom. During the montage, foxy Fran Drescher takes to her new position enthusiastically as she recruits new "bellhops" for the hotel . . . who helpfully try on their new uniforms with no self-consciousness. It's nice to know they're very enthusiastic . . . and not afraid to show it off. Elsewhere, Scolari drops a barbell into the pool for no particular reason other than unabashed wackiness while the new "bellhops" perform a kickline for Eddie Deezen, just because that would make absolutely no sense at all at this point in the film. Sometime later, Scolari is hassled by some jugglers on the beach while the HOT CHICK twins become rock stars in the hotel's lounge – complete with ugly Spandex – which causes Eddie Deezen to have a seizure on the dance floor.

In the ensuing days and/or weeks, the wacky ex-bellhops – who now have some undefined position among the hotel staff – try to get some "free" time – pun certainly intended – with their neophyte HOT CHICK colleagues. Of course, they're not interested in mixing business with pleasure, so they demurely refuse. However, one of their number (Monique Gabrielle . . . who was also in Bachelor Party) is quite smitten with Scolari, and, through the power of her hotness, she forces him to step clumsily into the hotel's fountain. She's like a magic HOT CHICK! After cooling off in the fountain, Scolari has a rather creepy chat with Eddie Deezen while the upper-class HOT CHICK and foxy Fran Drescher chat about Scolari's new "all work, no play" mentality . . . and the subsequent lack of sweet, sweet lovin' for the upper-class HOT CHICK. Foxy Fran Drescher, who knows a little something about manipulating men – in more ways than just figuratively, I'm sure – advises the upper-class HOT CHICK to treat Scolari like a dog, so, later that day, she tries it on the beach, but, sadly, it doesn't work. Maybe she needs to seek out the Ignorant Boyfriend Whisperer.

Meanwhile, the creepy arsonist checks into the hotel and foxy Fran Drescher volunteers to escort him to his room. While the wacky ex-bellhops pretend to be gay to pick up their female colleagues – because that always works, foxy Fran Drescher offers the creepy arsonist some extra services, but he just wants her to light him up . . . literally, as he's in need of a match for his cigarette. Somehow, this becomes a figuratively explosive experience for the pyromaniac guest; meanwhile, a new genre of fetish porn is born. Afterward, down by the pool, foxy Fran Drescher confesses that she's impressed by the gentlemanly nature of the arsonist . . . while he's busy sneaking down into the basement. The creepy arsonist plants a bomb in some laundry and, while he makes a call to Count Dooku, Scolari absent-mindedly moves the laundry bin. After hanging up on Count Dooku, the creepy arsonist fends off the advances of a love-struck foxy Fran Drescher and then, through a convoluted series of events, the creepy arsonist blows up alongside the laundry truck that just happened to contain his bomb. Dum-dum-DUM!

Back at the hotel, the wacky ex-bellhops attempt more schemes to hook up with their female colleagues while the not-dead arsonist returns to call Fu Manchu and report on his mission's failure. Meanwhile, a random real-estate consultant meets with the upper-class HOT CHICK as, it seems, her clients wish to purchase the Rosebud Beach Hotel! The spirit of good tidings apparently must spread to the rest of the hotel with the news, as the wacky ex-bellhops actually score some dates. Wonder of wonder; miracle of miracles. And just how do the ex-bellhops spend these dates? By taking their trio – yes, trio – of HOT CHICKS down to the maintenance man's bunker for a little private debauchery. While the maintenance man wanders around a fake jungle somewhere in the hotel, the ex-bellhops and the HOT CHICKS play spin-the-grenade. Before the orgy can commence, however, they're discovered by the maintenance man, who shakes off his creepy demeanor and joins in the fun! Ah, there's nothing like character development in a titcom.

The not-dead arsonist, meanwhile, goes back to work while Scolari and the upper-class HOT CHICK drink together in the lounge. The upper-class HOT CHICK reveling in the hotel's newfound success, wants to jet off to the Caribbean – but dance in the meantime; Scolari, on the other hand, is more interested in fixing a toilet. Hmm . . . I wonder if that's a euphemism for anal sex. Down in the bunker, the maintenance man and the ex-bellhops preside over an orgy, but the fun threatens to go south when Scolari discovers them. Somehow, the now super-powered wacky ex-bellhops run interference and get Scolari to loosen up while the old lady drug dealers get stoned. Elsewhere in the bunker, the maintenance man, having a flashback, addresses some naked HOT CHICKS and then, meanwhile, the HOT CHICK with the hots for Scolari hits on him a little more.

Scolari, interested in her well-being, offers to escort the drunken HOT CHICK back to her room; appropriately, one-half of the HOT CHICK twins belts out a plot-significant power ballad. In the meantime, some random record executive meets with the upper-class HOT CHICK because he's interested in signing the HOT CHICK twins to a contract. Well, isn't this a banner day for the Rosebud Beach Hotel? Sadly, it isn't a banner day for the upper-class HOT CHICK's relationship, as she spies Scolari and the drunk HOT CHICK together and she discerns that there's probably something fishy going on under her nose. And, if the drunken HOT CHICK gets what she seemingly wants, there'll be something fishy under Scolari's nose as well. To that end, the drunken HOT CHICK dons some lingerie for Scolari. Simultaneously, the upper-class HOT CHICK heads back to the lounge, where she gets hammered and then eyes the hotel's trainer from across the room. Perhaps as some sort of upper-class courtship ritual, the upper-class HOT CHICK dances badly for the hotel trainer and his mullet. Back in the drunken HOT CHICK's room, she confesses that she's always been into Scolari – I guess she has a thing for weak-willed nerdy guys – and she then tries to guilt trip Scolari into hooking up with her. Scolari, to his credit, sheepishly exits the room and then he freaks out. Down in the lounge, the hotel's trainer tries to make out with the upper-class HOT CHICK, but, surprisingly, she spurns him . . . even though she's already proved herself to be cool with fornication and prostitution. I guess she does have boundaries after all.

Down in the basement, the not-dead arsonist tries to plant another bomb, but he's interrupted by a still love-struck foxy Fran Drescher, who escorts him to the orgy in the bunker. Once there, Eddie Deezen has a psychotic episode and he attacks the not-dead arsonist. Somehow, this breaks down into a brawl which empties outside, where Eddie Deezen uses the not-dead arsonist's bomb to blow up a palm tree, which crushes the not-dead arsonist beneath its leafy branches. Foxy Fran Drescher, apparently unconcerned about the death of her paramour, catches the upper-class HOT CHICK leaving the hotel and foxy Fran Drescher entreats her dear friend not to leave. The upper-class HOT CHICK, sadly, is resigned to exiting the situation because Scolari has proven himself to be a two-timing jerk . . . even though, unbeknownst to her, he did fend off the advances of a scantly-clad, drunken HOT CHICK. I guess it just proves, yet again, that BITCHES BE CRAZY!

Remarkably, the still-not-dead arsonist goes back to work in the hotel once more, while foxy Fran Drescher tracks down Scolari and insinuates that there are things going on against his knowledge. Scolari, for once actually catching on to what's being hinted at around him, reveals that nothing happened the night before. Foxy Fran Drescher, betraying her gender, elects to help out the beleaguered couple when she confesses – obliquely – to the upper-class HOT CHICK's whereabouts. Scolari, with foxy Fran Drescher's help, tracks down the upper-class HOT CHICK at the airport, where he steals her boarding pass. After a bit of commiseration, Scolari and the upper-class HOT CHICK reconcile and return to the hotel, presumably to get it on.

The still-not-dead arsonist, who is remarkably resilient and persistent, returns to the hotel's basement, but, thanks to a sensor somewhere in the basement, the maintenance man discovers the still-not-dead arsonist's presence. The maintenance man, armed with an M-16, flushes out the still-not-dead arsonist, but the still-not-dead arsonist still has the presence of mind to plant his bomb. With the bomb in place, the still-not-dead arsonist calls Dracula with news of his impending success . . . and then he's blown up by the maintenance man's bazooka. Hopefully the third time's a charm. Or not, as the still-remarkably-not-dead arsonist ends up in the top of a palm tree . . . somehow.

Meanwhile, Scolari, after enjoying the upper-class HOT CHICK's ample gifts, calls Dracula to gloat about boning his daughter . . . and the hotel's progress. Dracula, much to his – ironic – horror, learns that the hotel is now a success and, in fact, there are investors willing to buy it. In addition, Dracula also discovers that his daughter is down there and that she and Scolari are getting married. Dracula, in a panic now that his scheme has proven to be thwarted more than he ever expected, calls the still-remarkably-not-dead arsonist, but receives no answer. Dracula, then elects to tell his daughter to evacuate the hotel the next day as he's flying down there to "help make the sale." Scolari, emboldened by the awesome power of coitus, decides to make the evacuation into a beach party, much to the upper-class HOT CHICK's surprise. I bet he's earned some more action for that brainstorm. Now that's a meritocracy I can get behind!

The next day, the real-estate people show up to see the hotel and the upper-class HOT CHICK shows them around . . . mainly to the beach party, where she also meets with the record executives. Meanwhile, Lord Summerisle arrives on the scene and Scolari tells him to head around back to the beach party to meet with his daughter. Scolari, in the meantime, checks out the hotel one last time and, surprisingly, Lord Summerisle, learning of Scolari's error, goes in after him. Then, with Scolari and Lord Summerisle inside the premises, the hotel implodes, much to the terror of the upper-class HOT CHICK. Of course, Scolari and Lord Summerisle end up not-dead and Lord Summerisle, as a wedding present, elects to bankroll his daughter and his to-be-son-in-law's next venture. As a denouement, Eddie Deezen returns to his home planet, where he bores friends and family with movies of his vacation to Earth. Oh, the hilarity.

For the most part, The Rosebud Beach Hotel is nothing more than innocuous. The plot is fairly unremarkable, but the very casual demeanor of the actors elevates it to something more than it is, something fun. Perhaps the skills of Peter Scolari, Colleen Camp, Fran Drescher, and – especially – Christopher Lee shine through to help this film greatly in this aspect. In addition, the film, with its 84-minute running time, is thankfully efficient, with a minimum of unnecessary side plots or needless melodrama. Most importantly, however, The Rosebud Beach Hotel takes its time in living up to its "titcom" peers – there is little, if any, nudity before the 30-minute mark, but, when that point is reached, the film makes up for its shortcomings in a big and impressive way. For that, among other things, this is truly a titcom worth celebrating and, indeed, a Misunderstood Masterpiece.

Join me next week as Colleen Camp returns in another titcom, ten years younger and a whole lot cheerier. See you then!