Edgy DC wrote: I don't know what "Putlney Swope" is. An off-beat review/ story summary: Putney Swope If Putney Swope (superbly played by Arnold Johnson) had a hand in writing the Black Panther Ten Point Plan, it would include demands for equal opportunity television airtime, majority black employment on every rung of the corporate ladder, and termination of the marketing of destructive products to minority communities. Robert Downy Sr.'s 1969 fuck the system film, Putney Swope, opens like any other big city flick with a helicopter aerial shot. But this set-up is merely a cleverly disguised invitation to draw viewers into his manic version of corporate dystopia. As soon as the chopper lands atop a piece of the Manhattan skyline and its middle-aged punk-rock passenger hops out with "MENSA" stenciled to the back of his DIY sleeveless denim jacket with spray paint, you know that this film will deliver anything but what is expected. The protagonist, "Swope" as he is called throughout the film, is introduced as the disgruntled black music director of a major advertising agency. He is sitting at a conference table encircled by white execs. The Madison Avenue Agency is going through rough times, and there is a heated debate as to what changes need to be made. Swope tries to interject with words of righteousness and sincerity, but is combated with cynicism and deject. In a strange turn of events, the president of the agency shows up, dies of a heart attack, and is replaced by Swope who wins the Chairman?s seat through default vote. That is when a big load of blackie shit hits the proverbial fan. Swope fires the entire board, save for one "sick bastard", hires a motley crew of militant afro-centrist politicos, and bans cigarette, alcohol and violent toy manufacturers from the company?s roster of clients. The airing of the company's first ad under Swope's new direction lets the viewer in on Downy Sr.'s creative genius. Outside the television within the television, all the scenes are shot in stark black and white. But once the full-screen versions of ads Swope?s agency creates grace the screen, they surprisingly appear in soft-focused Technicolor. The ads are the tongue-in-cheek driving force of the film. Offensive yet humorous, they are smart enough to make any Adbuster magazine administrator come close to an anti-creativity climax. Ethereal Cereal, the first in a slew of funny five-minute spots, features a monotoned narrator informing a gentleman seated at a breakfast table of the benefits of this brand of cereal. As he eats, the camera closes in for a close-up. Then on hearing the summation of the off-screen accolades, the black gap-toothed breakfast eater exclaims, "No sheet!" The other commercials run the gamut, from Mr. Sony's Get-Out-Of Here mousetrap, to an interracial couple singing a soft duet for Face Off Pimple Cream, and match Ethereal Cereal in wit and political incorrectness. The agency is a hit. Clients that were removed from the roster beg to be replaced. The corrupt midget Head of State (played by famous small person Pepi Hermine) gets involved. And, in a scheme reminiscent of Robin Hood, Swope orders that in order to keep working with the agency, each account has to pay one million dollars in cash upfront, all the while secretly thinking of disseminating the funds to the rest of his cronies at a later date. Somewhere amidst the staccato scenes and profane deliveries, there is a message the director is cleverly conveying. It's hidden below the surface, and behind the "blackface". The hyper-exaggerated characters are making a mockery of every level of establishment. From religion?a nun tries to con Swope into adopting a yuck-mouthed youngster?to corporations?it goes without saying that corporate America and its mindless consumers are Downey Sr.s main target to minority Parties: behind closed doors the film's most vocal black militant turns out to be a ****-licking lowlife. With the pint-sized Prez leaning hard on Swope, he knows his agency is in its last throws of life. In a scene composed to resemble Fidel Castro's address to a newly liberated Cuba, Putney Swope orders his ad agents (everyone employed at Madison Avenue Agency, including janitors and bodyguards) to come up with the most outlandish ads they can think of and air them carte blanche. He then later sabotages the video shoot for the Nazi car company the President is pushing, making a host of high-powered enemies and hammering the last nail in the agency's coffin. In his final act of defiance, Swope holds a board meeting that mirrors the opening scene. To his Negro band of disciples, Putney is a Jesus figure, but on hearing his plan to diverge from militancy and cow-tow to The Man, they decide it would be better to send him to the cross. They do not want to give up the right fight, even though it means risking the loss of all the clients and the loads of money the clients are willing to spend. The meeting, of course, was a test, and Swope is pleased with the results... at least initially. He goes to the vault, grabs a few bags of money, and then orders that the rest be shared evenly. As he readies for an escape, Putney Swope is confronted by members of the board. Hotfooting over the prior topic they disappoint by showering him and his sellout ideas with praise. Speechless, Swope shakes his head and pushes his way through the thick crowd, assisted by his bodyguard. And as the money-hungry mob squabbles over the loot, it is set ablaze by a rogue kamikaze sending the film to its fiery finale. Written and directed by Robert Downy Sr., with production credits going to Herald Productions Inc., the film is a farcical exploration in big budget cinema. Yet it is revolutionary in its daring because of the time during which it was made, and the quasi pro-militant message it carries. I am certain Putney Swope would have agreed to summing up the film in his signature gravely voice like this: "If you can't join the system, then fuck the system." For a while, it was a big cult film. Later
