No ke aha, e ke Akua? No ke aha ʻoe i ʻae ai iā Roger Corman e hele mai i ko mākou mokupuni a hana i nā kiʻiʻoniʻoni weliweli (translation: Why, God? Why did you let Roger Corman come to our island and make terrible movies)! A mixture of over one-hundred-and-thirty volcanic islands, the great (and ikaika) state of Hawaii has lured sailors for its majestic views, tropical climates, and a plethora of beautifully shaped local coconuts, but for a place where the life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness, its cavernous dens for thieves sure do reel in a few criminals from time to time. It doesn’t take Jack Lord (or the mustached wonder, Magnum P.I.) much deducing to know that, with a population of a little over a million residents, there is bound to be a crime or two. On average, the State of Hawaii has a index crime rate of forty-thousand per year, yet for anyone who went to the Hawaii’s first drive-in theatre on Kapiolani Blvd. in Honolulu (paying the whopping sum of sixty-five cents for adults and quarter for children under the age of twelve), there was never a crime so heinous, so fowl, so corrupt as hoping to see the premier of a movie lensed in their pā hale called Thunder Over Hawaii only to feast their eyes on the criminally disappointing fruits of Roger Corman’s guilty pleasure/business vacation project now titled Naked Paradise (for no ke Akua, won’t someone think of the keiki!).
Every director who has a stock company from time to time will direct a film that brings in all of their star players. Think John Ford’s Stagecoach or James Cameron’s Aliens, or Ed Wood’s Plan Nine from Outer Space (on second thought, let’s not think of that one ever again). Most directors do this for various reasons, from the reliability of the actors to their overall friendships, and like these and other directors, Corman certainly had a stock company of actors who tend to appear in his films, and Naked Paradise is no exception. A cornucopia of Corman regulars, snot only on screen with Corman alum like Beverly Garland (It Conquered the World and Not of This Earth), Jonathan Haze (Litle Shop of Horrors and The Terror), and of course (the man who made Corman movies legendary) Dick Miller (Rock All Night and A Bucket of Blood), but Corman also relied on a behind the camera team just as impressive as in front. With the likes of cinematographer Floyd Crosby (Attack of the Crab Monsters and She-Gods from Shark Reef) and composer Ronald Stein (Gunslinger and The Undead) alone would be worth its weight in gold, but one more golden doubloon in this buried treasure trove is screenwriter Charles B. Griffith! Meeting Corman through their mutual friend/collaborator/good luck charm Haze, Griffith would be a regular for Corman for his speed and creativity, penning everything (including the kitchen sink) for Corman from westerns (Three Bright Banner that was never made), Science fiction (or science false with It Conquered the World), and straight up horror (The Undead). Fast, efficient, and (for Corman) super-duper cheap, Griffith was one of the strongest bands holding the Corman stock together, and their collaboration lasted a long time, until Griffith broke Corman’s trust: he asked for more money! Although Griffith would leave to work at studios like Columbia, he made his way back to Corman with a suggestion to make a few black comedies, which led to their finest achievement: The Little Shop of Horrors (where’s his screenwriting Oscar for “Feed Me, Seymour!”). With a reported budget of a hundred thousand dollars (due to Sam Arkoff of A.I.P. wanting the film to be in color), the film was a success, releasing as a double feature with a non-Corman Flesh and the Spur, but when later released with the title changed back to Thunder Over Hawaii (which sounds more like a direct-to-VHS Hulk Hogan movie from 1998). Naked Paradise might not be in the same garden as others of their collaborations, but it does remain as a strong example of what can come out of the Corman stock company with a camera, a lei, and thirty-seven cents.
Captain Duke Bradley (played by Creature from the Black Lagoon star Richard Denning) is hired by gangster thug Zac (Don Zac?) to take him and his goons, including his secretary/lover (Garland), to Na mokupuni nani o Hawaii. Poor Captain Duke thinks he is just taking a harmless group of tourists around the island, but what he’s really being hired for is the getaway boat as the gang robs the payroll of the largest plantation on the island. When Captain Duke finds this out, along with the help of his new would-be lover, Zac’s secretary (talk about taking down a memo), he is determined to steer this group down the right path. Will he defeat the ravenous gang, or will they stuff him in the sweaty sock-smelling locker of Davy Jones (the lead singer of The Monkees)?
Snorkeling your way at sixty-eight minutes, Corman would eventually ask Griffith to use this plot device (and script) for three other films of his with Atlas, Beast from Haunted Cave, and Creature from the Haunted Sea. Although not a blowfish puffing away in the depths of Corman Public Domain Ocean, you can find random riptides here and there on YouTube and the like. Mark Twain once stated Hawaii was ‘the loveliest fleet of islands that lies anchored in any ocean.” However, they never finish what he possibly said, which is “ʻO nā ʻauwaʻa nani loa o nā mokupuni e waiho ana i ka heleuma ma kekahi moana e ʻaihue i ka poʻe me ka pū!” (or roughly translated “The loveliest fleet of islands that lies anchored in any ocean to rob people at gunpoint!”).
