I wouldn't think you could go far wrong with both Don Rickles and Buddy Hackett, but I was mistaken. Rickles plays an unfunny coach who never gets any laughs while he works with a group of oily muscle men (that may be your thing; it's not mine). Hackett (whom I don't believe I've ever seen looking so trim and normal) is no more than the aide to a rich heiress (Luciana Paluzzi) who sets her sights on Frankie Avalon, much to the disapproval of his girl Annette Funicello. All the vignettes going on herein are disjointed and tiresome, and Candy Johnson (who reminds me of a young Polly Holiday from the ALICE TV series) isn't as alluring as she thinks she is when regularly shaking her booty and causing men to freeze-frame and fall off their surfboards... and not even having the indecency to wear a bikini while doing it. John Ashley is present too. Don't ask me what the point of having Morey Amsterdam in this mess was. Peter Lorre pops in for a short time in a humorous cameo, and at the end we get to enjoy the very young Little Stevie Wonder do his stuff, but it's not enough. It's not very often you can say the end credits sequence is the best thing about a film, but that was the case here. *1/2 out of ****
