VIVA MAX issues its marching orders from the get-go with the warning shot “All persons mentioned in this story are completely fictitious except for: Davy Crockett, Col. William B. Travis, James Bowie, John Wayne and Richard Widmark”.  In the giddy anarchic spirit that riddled 1969, this rib-tickler re-remembers the Alamo, volleying not booming muskets but straight-faced satire. Relaxed rather than frantic; the cross-border/cross-cultural sacred cattle teasing is all the funnier for it. *

Led off by Hugo Montenegro’s score, with Al Hirt’s trumpet wailing like El degüello, ‘General Maximillian Rodrigo De Santos’ (Peter Ustinov) leads his not-exactly-thrilled company of Mexican soldiers across the border into Texas. His apparent goal is to reoccupy the Alamo in San Antonio for the glory of Mexico, but he really wants to do it to erase a stain his girlfriend put on his honor. Impress your chick? Invade someone.

SANTOS: “A friend of mine, a woman, she told me the men do not respect me. She said they would not follow me even into a whorehouse!    VALDEZ: “She is wrong, senor. The men would follow you into a whorehouse.”

Aided by loyal ‘Sgt Valdez’ (John Astin), de Santos finds a surprise frenemy in Texan cutie ‘Paula Whitland’ (Pamela Tiffin), who’s a student activist when she’s not selling postcards at the Alamo. The overwhelming odds on the gringo side include National Guard ‘Gen. Billy Joe Hallson’ (Jonathan Winters), police chief ‘Sylvester’ (Harry Morgan), army ‘Gen. Lacomber’ (Keenan Wynn), militia whackjob ‘Sam Gillison’ (Kenneth Mars) and Sam’s freaked-out wife ‘Hattie’ (Alice Ghostley), who knows de Santos and his Mexicanos are really working for “the Red Chinese“.  The Mexicans password is ‘John Wayne’, the countersign ‘Richard Widmark’.

Elliott Baker (A Fine Madness, Breakout) wrote the script off journalist/anchor Jim Lehrer’s 1966 satirical novel. Jerry Paris, besides acting, did a lot of directing, mostly TV, but also a handful of features: this cheeky lark by far the best. Ardent opposition from influential Texans nixed shooting inside the Alamo (did Paris & company really think they could get away with that?) so exterior scenes in San Antonio (with surprised citizens) were complemented by using the Alamo replica 125 miles away in Brackettville, built for John Wayne’s 1960 epic and kept open as a movie location and tourist site for six decades. Filming of interiors was then completed in Rome (Tiffin had relocated there in 1967).

Winters, brilliantly funny in live appearances, was generally not served as well in feature films. This little movie gives him his best showing since his wonderful turn in the classic It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. Wynn and Morgan do their respective ‘exasperated’ bits, sly fox Astin is amusing even when just standing there. Mars and Ghostley are groove fit in their respective crazypants elements.

After a great start in 1961’s One, Two, Three, smart and saucy Pamela Tiffin was—apart from a sexy cameo in Harper—wasted in a string of dud comedies; she’s bright and winning here. Making it all go down like cool margaritas on a hot Saturday is Ustinov’s beautifully droll general, mining every caressed syllable out of an accent (only a woke fool could be offended) and augmenting de Santos’ hapless hero with a trove of skillful gestures, postures and expressions. Along with his delicious turns in Spartacus and Topkapi, it’s his most entertaining role from the decade.

Wisely kept to 93 minutes, the guerrilla raid on San Antone’s epochal landmark captured $2,700,000 at the boxoffice, #81 for the year. With Bill McCutcheon, Larry Hankin, Ann Morgan Guilbert, Jessica Myerson, Gino Conforti, Paul Sand, Jack Colvin.

Pamela Tiffin, 1942-2020

* Mow down the cows—Max’s mission creep fit with the year’s platoon of mockers—Oh! What A Lovely War, The Magic Christian, If It’s Tuesday This Must Be Belgium, Support Your Local Sheriff.  The longtime defenders of the fabled (alas, now controversial) shrine, the Daughters Of The Republic of Texas, were not pleased with the idea of kidding what they held/hold sacred (let alone taking Wayne’s name in vain) and they raised enough of a fuss to prevent filming inside the chapel monument.

Subtextish—Ustinov must’ve drawn added mirth over this. He took 1960’s Oscar for Supporting Actor in Spartacus, his corrupt Roman in that epic outvoting fellow nominee Chill Wills, up for his folkloric ‘Beekeeper’ in The Alamo.

With 1969’s roil-the-waters crop already churning with Midnight Cowboy, Easy Rider and The Wild Bunch, having fun with the Alamo must’ve seemed like the last straw. For the record, I’m a lifelong buff on the subject and love the Duke’s flawed epic—and I think Viva Max is a hoot. I’ll bet you a shot of Cuervo that somewhere, Davy Crockett got a grin out of it, too.