Evel Kneivel

This is from the second week of August of this past summer. I have a TV upstairs in the room I use as an office and Steve has a TV downstairs in the male basement sanctuary where all the beer and sports-related decorations live. This works out really well most of the time and provides a lot of harmony, except that the downstairs TV has the movie channels, the upstairs TV just has basic cable. So if there’s something I want to watch that requires the movie channels, like Sex and the City, then I have to set it up way in advance and make sure whatever game is on at that time can be watched on basic cable upstairs, otherwise somebody’s gonna have to record something but it generally all works out as long as careful planning is maintained. But from the basic TV upstairs you can watch the TV guide channel part and see what’s going on on the movie channels downstairs. Which is what Steve had apparently been doing right before he came busting into the basement yelling, “Change it, change it, change it!” just as Sarah Jessica Parker was saying “Is it true? When it comes to relationships, do we all…” Steve grabbed the remote and began firing at the screen.

“Aaauugh! What are you doing? What are you doing?!” I protested.

“Poop and the Poopy will repeat again,” he told me. “Trust me, we have to watch this right now. You’ll be glad we did.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Look,” he said, and pointed. Red, white and blue Saturday-morning-in-the-‘70’s graphics came on the screen. “It’s Evel Kneivel’s movie,” he said with reverence. “It’s ‘Viva Kneivel.’”

“I don’t want to watch ‘Viva Kneivel,’” I objected. “I want to watch ‘Sex and the City.’”

“You mean ‘Golden Girls: The New Class,’” said Steve. “’Viva Kneivel’ is only the best movie ever made. Please. Please. Please, please, please, please, please, please, please…”

It was a foregone conclusion that we would be watching it because Steve has this deep, psychological mania for Evel Kneivel that was stamped on his psyche from his impressionable young boy years, accentuated by the fact that his whole family is originally from Butte, Montana, where Evel Kneivel is from, and Steve’s dad went the same highschool as Evel Kneivel. In the retellings over the years, that has changed to “Evel and Steve’s dad going to highschool together,” and as a few more years go by I imagine it will change to “Evel and Steve’s dad being best friends in highschool,” and a few years past that, you might well find Steve’s dad being the one that did a few of the early canyon jumps right behind his best friend Evel. So “Viva Kneivel” it was. And I’m not gonna say that it did turn out to be the best movie ever made, but I’m not gonna say that it didn’t, either. Here’s what happens.

The movie opens. Who is that shadowy figure, skulking through darkened hallways, carrying a huge cardboard box? Is it a cat burglar? A midnight prowler? Ed Rooney? He goes into a bedroom. (gasp) Oh, my goodness, it’s Evel Kneivel, and he’s busted into an orphanage for boys in the middle of the night. All the orphans are overjoyed and crowd around him, telling him that he’s the greatest. Evel agrees with them. And he’s brought them all presents! They all get an Evel Kneivel toy of their very own. The orphans can’t believe their luck and suddenly an orphan comes over from across the room on crutches like Tiny Tim.

“Evel,” says the crutches-orphan. “Evel, look at me. When I saw you walk away from that crash in England, I figured I could do it,” As he’s saying this, the orphan lets the crutches drop dramatically and walks over to Evel without them and declares, “You’re the reason I’m walking, Evel! You’re the reason!”

“That’s great,” says Evel.

A nun comes busting in. “Evel Kneivel! Saints be praised and [beghorra]! What do you mean breakin’ in here in the dead of night,” etc. Evel knows her as Sister Charity, so that means either he goes there a lot, or he used to be an orphan there. That’s never really delved into.

“By the way, Sister,” says Evel, “I didn’t forget your favorite fudge.”

“Oh, you’re wicked, Evel,” says the nun. “You know I’ll get fat.”

“Don’t worry,” says Evel. “No one will notice.”

Okay, so in the next few scenes we meet everybody. There’s a big celebration going on in the stadium, because Evel is about to perform a record-breaking jump. Red Buttons, who is Evel’s promoter, wants to add more seats on the field, but this would compromise Evel’s safety. Evel’s blue-jump-suited mechanic buddy Will, who has already been referred to as a drunk, I think, starts knocking Red Buttons around. Will is being played by none other than Gene “Singin’ In the Rain” Kelly. Evel breaks up the fight and he’s mad at Will, not realizing Will was only looking out for him. Evel leaves Will and is immediately surrounded by hordes of adoring children, reporters and one hot housewife. Evel tosses witty quips to the reporters and makes all the kids cheer by declaring himself #1 and hits on the housewife twice. Then Lauren Hutton as the sassy photographer with a startling array of jumpsuits drops down out of a helicopter. Evel Kneivel is instantly drawn to her as moth to flame but she is one mouthy broad who needs taming! Taming Evel-style!

“Are you a woman,” Evel asks her, “or are you a Ms.?” BAM! Take that, 1970’s Steinham chicks! Kneivel and Lauren Hutton snap back and forth at each other with fiery, tempestuous disdain, like if Bogey and Bacall had really wide, polyester collars. Could their game of snarling cat-and-mouse be cover for a deep, wild attraction to each other?

“They’ll be kissing soon,” I predicted. Then Evel was back in front of the reporters. He had them all in the palm of his leather-gloved hand.

“Hey, where’d you get the nickname ‘Evel’?” one of them shouted.

“Honey, when I was born, I was so good they nicknamed me ‘Evel,’” quipped Evel. The reporters loved it.

“You know what this is like,” I told Steve. “This is exactly like an Elvis movie. This is EXACTLY like an Elvis movie. Evel Kneivel is the daredevil Elvis. He’s young movie Elvis and cape-wearing jumpsuited Elvis from Vegas combined! Honey, listen to this. Okay. The red, white and blue belt buckle there, it’s EK for Evel Kneivel but it just could as easily be Elvis King—“

“Shhhhh,” said Steve. “This is a really important part.”

On screen, Leslie Neilson had appeared. We quickly learn that Leslie has an evil, E-V-I-L plan to get Evel, E-V-E-L down to Mexico and something about a truck and something about lots of money. He is using Jesse, the gangly, effeminate, lesser daredevil to help him. Jesse, the gangly, effeminate, lesser daredevil goes into the truck trailer where Will the drunk is working on Evel’s bike, and he drugs Will the drunk by putting powdered narcotics in his whiskey, because Will can handle whiskey, but not narcotics.

Will passes out, but he passes out with his eyes open, so he sees when Jesse comes back in to take photos of the whole inside of the trailer, but then the narcotics overpower him. He’s all messed up the next morning, Evel is disgusted with him, thinking Will has a really bad drinking problem instead of only a kind of bad drinking problem.

Lauren Hutton the sassy photographer is back. Evel Kneivel takes her for a daredevil ride on the back of his bike to get her heart pounding and get a little vibrating motorcycle-seat action between her legs to maybe shake some of the Ms out of her.

“So, do you think that’s really him on that bike, or do you think it’s a stunt man?” I wondered.

“I don’t know,” said Steve, “but I guarantee that’s not Lauren Hutton behind him on the bike.”

We both watched closely. No, it was certainly not Lauren Hutton behind Evel Kneivel on the bike. It was, in fact, a mannequin behind Evel on the bike. But doubtlessly, a mouthy broad of a mannequin who needed taming! Taming Evel-style! Evel’s foreplay is unsuccessful; Lauren Hutton leaves; no kiss.

“Evel Kneivel looks kinda like Dwight Yoakam,” I said. “He acts like Steve McQueen and he looks like Dwight Yoakam.”

“Hold on,” said Steve, “this part is really important too.”

In the next scene emotional music starts playing and we see Tommy, the young son that Will has never known, come to visit for the first time from boarding school. Will didn’t expect him and is gruff and abrasive but you can’t feel too bad for the kid as he is one ugly little Adam-Rich-from-Eight-is-Enough-looking bastard. Next, the big jump. A parade of the many amazing vehicles of Evel Kneivel goes by. Steve at this point began freaking out, shouting, “The sky-cycle! I had that! There’s the canyon rocket! My buddy had that! There’s the original racer! Oh my god! Aaaauugh!”

In the stands, Frank Gifford explains to the crowd that not only will Evel be jumping for the world’s record, but he’ll be doing it over a pit of lions and tigers. Evel steps up to the mike. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” he says. “It’s a pleasure to be with you in Long Beach today, and with my old friend, Frank Gifford. You know, I see a lot of young people here in the stands today, so before I make the jump, there’s something I’d like to say to you, something that’s been bothering me for a long time. I go to Indianapolis every year, to see the Indy 500. I go there with friends to drive and race. Every year when they go there to qualify, they usually have to go as fast as they can possibly go to get a front-row position. They put nitro in their cars sometimes instead of the fuel that’s intended to be in their cars, so that their cars will go faster. And they do, for about five or ten laps. And then they blow all to hell! And you people, you kids, if you put nitro in your bodies in the form of narcotics, so that you can do better, or so that you think you can do better, you will, for about five or ten years, and then you’ll blow all to hell! (sigh) You’re a wonderful crowd, I’m glad that you all made it, and I’m gonna do my best to make it right across that jump. Thank you.”

The crowd goes crazy. “He’s Dragnet guy!” I shouted. “He’s Sergeant Joe Friday!”

“Sergeant Joe Friday would never have said ‘narcotics can make you do better for five to ten years,’” Steve countered.

“That was the greatest speech in the history of film. It should be on a bronze plaque in the Washington, DC mall next to the Gettysburg Address. I bet all the people in the stands who came to the event high are feeling really ashamed right now,” I guessed.

Evel rides around on his bike riling up the crowd. He drives up to the edge of the tank. You can tell that the lions and tigers want to eat him by the way they’re looking at him. Evel rides up to the top of the ramp. Frank Gifford can barely contain his excitement! Evel gives the crowd a thumbs-up, just like Fonzie. Then he sails down the ramp and leaps over the maneaters, just like Fonzie over the sharks!

“Evel Kneivel got this idea from Fonzie!” I shouted.

Steve looked ready to implode with the sudden onslaught of warring loyalties. “When did this movie come out?” I asked him.

“In 1977,” said Steve, checking.

“When did Fonzie jump the shark?” I demanded.

“Season five, September 1977,” said Steve. “Hang on, though. This is an important part.”

Evel was hurt during the jump, so he’s in the hospital. Lauren Hutton has realized that she likes him, so Evel brings her along with the rest of the gang to Mexico. Evel and Tommy ride together in the Evel Truck. Will and Lauren Hutton drive themselves in a separate car. Will starts to freak out that Evel is spending such an intimate and inappropriate amount of time with his boy. We learn exactly what Leslie Neilson’s E-V-I-L plan is and that he’s also double crossing Jesse, the gangly, effeminate, lesser daredevil. Will is kidnapped and given more narcotics that make him insane, and they put him away in a corrupt, upscale insane asylum run by Mr. Dabney Coleman.

“He has taken an overdose of something,” Dabney and Leslie tell Evel.

Evel doesn’t buy it. “Not Will,” he says. “If he’s been drinking, all right. But dope, no way.” Evel infiltrates the asylum late that night using his “sneaking into orphanages” savvy, and also by wearing an orderly’s outfit a la Fletcher Axel Foley. Will tells Evel, even though he doesn’t recognize him at first due to the “genius” disguise, that Leslie Neilson has an E-V-I-L plan.

“Thanks. Stay here,” says Evel. Then the pre-show Mexican parade happens. Lauren Hutton is back, in her sexiest jumpsuit yet. Thing heat up between her and Evel like a blazing burning pit of fire, giving them the promise of hot kiss coming soon. Frank Gifford came with them to Mexico. He’s wearing a leisure-suit combination of bright yellow and bright red, like a blazing, burning pit of fire! He informs the crowd that Evel will be jumping over a blazing, burning pit of fire!! Over one hundred feet of flaming death!

In Evel’s trailer, at the top of the jump ramp, runs in Jesse, the gangly, effeminate lesser daredevil. He’s high and freaked out on narcotics! What the hell’s gonna happen?!

What does happen is a non-stop, red-white-and-blue whirlwind of James Bond action with a little Chuck Norris and a dash of the band Kiss and a little Bruce Lee tossed in, if Bruce had been a student of the ancient martial art form known as the “Butte, Montana barfight.” There’s a spectacular prison break, more kidnapping, the nefarious bad-guy scheme technique of “building exact duplicates of everything,” pulse-pounding chase scenes incorporating secret tricks of daredevil motorcycle-riding know-how, and the most anti-climactic, unsatisfying onscreen kiss ever, and then we’re finally back at the Mexican stadium.

Evel’s at the top of the ramp. “Viva Kneivel!” yells the crowd. Evel salutes the crowd. He revs up the bike. The crowd goes crazy. He kicks forward, he launches down the ramp and into cinematic history as the sublime ‘70’s Evel Kneivel theme song begins playing and the credits start rolling.

Evel Kneivel Week was celebrated July 29 through August 3 of this past year, and even though you missed it, if you happened to be in Butte, Montana at that time, you may have witnessed it. If you didn’t make it, you can still get the comemmerative event T-shirts at kneivelweek.com, or you can just go look for Viva Kneivel, the video, in the cult section of video stores unless they happen to be godless communists. Or you can find the video for sale online, no DVD yet.

I looked over at Steve as the movie ended. He was transfixed and exhausted with the rapture. “Okay, so what do you think?” I asked him. “Is Evel Kneivel most like Elvis, or Kiss, or Sergeant Friday, or James Bond, or the Fonz, or Fletcher Axel Foley or Steve McQueen?”

“He is all of those things, and none of them,” Steve intoned solemnly, “for he is Evel. I’m gonna make a phone call.”

“Oh, no,” I told him. “I know that look. Do not call your friend to ask if he’s still selling his motorcycle. No, no, no, no, no…”

“Oh, man,” said Steve. “I didn’t even think of that. I was gonna call my mom and ask her to go through all my old boxes in the attic and see if she could find my old sky cycle model. But that’s a good idea.”

“No, no, no, no,” I said, but he was gone. “I think he’s most like Elvis,” I said to the empty room. And what’s more, I think both Evel and Elvis would agree. This was your local entertainment guide on 94.7 NRK, the new rock alternative.