Racquet (1979) Cal-Am Artists/Comedy RT: 87 minutes Rated R (sexual content, nudity, language) Director: David Winters Screenplay: Steve Michaels and Earle Doud Music: Michel Rubini Cinematography: Mario Di Leo and Alan Roberts Release date: June 7, 1979 (US) Cast: Bert Convy, Lynda Day George, Edie Adams, Phil Silvers, Bobby Riggs, Tanya Roberts, Bruce Kimmel, Dorothy Konrad, Bjorn Borg, Ilie Nastase, Monti Rock III, Katherine Moffat (as Kitty Ruth), Susan Tyrrell, Terry Lester, Dick Yarmy, Randy Kirby, Guerin Barry, Mickey Morton, Ed Call, George Reynolds, Wyatt Johnson, Patrick Cranshaw, Maria Sokolov. Box Office: N/A
Rating: ***
The sex and tennis comedy Racquet gets a bad rap, but I didn’t mind it. In fact, I liked it, probably more than a respectable film critic should. I’ll admit that it’s due in part to my nostalgia for 70s and early 80s movies. Specifically, the ones I wasn’t allowed anywhere near due to that blasted parental R-rated movie block that always stood between me and cinematic Nirvana.
I was 11 when Racquet landed in theaters in June ’79. As I recall, it lasted about a week before disappearing into the void. I didn’t get to feast my eyes on it until I finally found a copy at Movies Unlimited circa summer 2000. You better believe I snatched that sucker right up and took it home where I wasted no time popping it into my trusty VCR. I wasn’t disappointed either. It’s no comedy classic, but it has enough laughs to make it worth the 87-minute time investment.
Watching Racquet now is like opening a time capsule from the late 70s. From the clothes, cars and offensive stereotypes to the casual attitudes towards sex, not to mention the obligatory scene in a discotheque, it’s markedly from a much different (and much more fun) time than we live in now.
There’s a lot about Racquet that intrigues me not the least of which is the star of the film, game show host Bert Convy (Tattletales, Super Password). He plays Tommy Everett, a Beverly Hills tennis pro who services his clients on and off the court. He has big dreams of opening his own tennis club, but he’ll need money to do that, a lot of it, $200K to be exact. He thinks he’ll get it off Leslie (Adams, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World), a horny middle-aged socialite who uses him to play out various sexual fantasies while her husband (sitcom star Silvers) is away on business which he frequently is. Of course, she has no intention of ever giving him the capital he needs. He’s just her boy toy! Never mind that he’s hardly a boy at 45.
Making matters more complicated is Monica (George, Pieces), an old flame who comes back into Tommy’s life after five years. Newly divorced, she claims to be interested only in tennis lessons, but that lasts about three minutes. She’s still into him and vice versa. But will their relationship last? Will Monica be able to handle Tommy’s side hustle? That is, if he doesn’t foolishly decide to keep it from her and we all know he will.
Racquet is directed by David Winters whose filmography also includes The Last Horror Film (known mainly for reuniting Maniac co-stars Joe Spinell and Caroline Munro), the skateboarder fave Thrashin’ and the space opera Space Mutiny starring none other than Yor himself, Reb Brown. We’re obviously NOT talking about Fellini here, but he’s a more than capable filmmaker in my not-at-all humble opinion.
It’s written by Steve Michaels (Young Lady Chatterley) and Earle Doud (Far Out Space Nuts). Their screenplay is far from flawless. It has plot holes aplenty. Here’s a big one. It’s mentioned more than once that a sex maniac who beats his female victims with a tennis racket is on the loose. Naturally, a couple of cops mistakenly believe Tommy’s the culprit based on his suspicious behavior. After a couple of slapstick encounters, the matter is forgotten completely. I can’t explain why. It’s not like they didn’t have the perfect perp, the cocky new (younger) tennis pro threatening to steal Tommy’s job at the club.
Racquet boasts a cast of cool co-stars there to support leading man Convy. Besides the ones already mentioned, the roster also includes Tanya Roberts (pre-Charlie Angel’s), Bruce Kimmel (The First Nudie Musical), Monti Rock III (the club DJ from Saturday Night Fever), Katherine Moffat/Kitty Ruth (The Beast Within), Susan Tyrrell (Angel), Dorothy Konrad (Dixie Dynamite), Terry Lester (The Young and the Restless) and real life tennis stars Bobby Riggs, Bjorn Borg and (in stock footage only) Ilie Nastase. Then there’s Phil Silvers. If you ever wanted to hear him drop the f-bomb or see him dress up like a turkey (apparently, it’s a sex fetish), this is your chance!
It wouldn’t be completely inaccurate to describe Racquet as the K-Mart version of a Blake Edwards adult comedy. It features middle-aged hijinks as opposed to teenage ones. There’s actually a scene where Tommy climbs out the second-floor bedroom window when his client’s husband unexpectedly comes home a day early from his business trip. That leads to all sorts of wacky misadventures with cops, drag queens, black muggers, an Italian wedding party and Leslie’s teenage houseguest Melissa (Moffat/Ruth) who drags Tommy to a disco in a slightly surreal bit. It culminates in a wild car chase with Tommy driving a car with a couple making whoopee in the back. I can see Dudley Moore or John Ritter getting themselves into similar situations.
Blame it on my nostalgia for all things late 70s/early 80s, but I really like Bert Convy. He was one of my favorite participants in the star-studded The Cannonball Run. I was so bummed when he died of cancer in ’91. He carries Racquet pretty well, but he doesn’t do it alone. His co-stars provide ample support. Tyrrell shows up as a snobby realtor with a horny side. She’s always good. Rock is a riot as an extremely gay hair salon owner. His remarks are hilariously catty. The late Roberts has a too-brief role as Tommy’s roommate Bambi. She was HOT! George is freaking royalty. She and her late hubby Christopher were to B-movies what Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were to mainstream cinema or Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy were to theater. Riggs is okay as Tommy’s boss. I love that Bjorn Borg is in it. He’s no worse an actor than some of the other athletes that have attempted to transition into film over the years.
I won’t lie. Racquet is racy, smutty, stupid and mildly offensive to the intellect. It’s made with the same production values as a TV movie but with sex, nudity and bad words. Not all of it works. The script is a pastiche of dumb jokes and incomplete storylines. It often loses sight of the fact that it’s supposed to be about tennis. Winters tries to compensate by shoehorning in a last-minute match between Convy and Borg. It wants to be Shampoo, but it lacks the depth of character to even come close. None of that matters to me in the slightest. I got a kick out of Racquet. What can I say? B-movies are my racket.
