Vanity Fear

A Pretentious A**hole's Guide to B-Movie Bullsh*t

So, I'm now down in the homestretch of the first novel with just 20,000 words to write before the 10th.  So far it's been a really exciting process, with the book going in directions I never envisioned when I started it.  The problem is, as you've already discerned, is that it has left me little energy to contribute to the blog, which explains the dearth of regular and/or interesting content.  Last Saturday I promised to finally write my third entry in my "Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves" series, but I just haven't had the time to get to it, nor will I until sometime after the 10th.  Until then, I thought I'd fall back on the crutch I used last December when I put up a series of previously published posts in place of original content.  In that case I had a natural holiday theme to help justify my laziness, but this month I have to come up with a connecting thread of my own devising.  The one I've settled on is:
"The Top Ten Most Visited Posts
In the History of the House of Glib"
Just as I did in December, I'm going to mitigate my sloth by improving the posts anyway I can--whether it be by reformating them in a more aesthetically pleasing manner (a process I have discovered that can be just as time-consuming, if not as creatively draining, as writing the posts in the first place), adding new content or just correcting any obvious mistakes I should have caught the first time.
Today's entry--My Tenth Most Popular Post--was originally written in April, 2006 and is dedicated to my favorite almost-beach movie of all time.  It is:
"We're Going to Have A Pajama Party Tonight!
Tonight?  That's Right!"

In my last post a previous post I mentioned an old AIP beach movie that I've had a lot of affection for ever since I first saw it when I was a kid.  Thinking about it made me want to watch it again and watching it again made me want to write one of my soon-to-be-infamous epic multimedia posts about it.  But since the film cannot be considered a WWTTM, I shall now inaugurate a new House of Glib whenever-I-feel-like-it feature entitled:
Bad Films I Love Anyway
(or BFILA for shortsies).

This particular BFILA is in many ways the bastard stepchild of the AIP teenage bikini pictures that the studio produced in the early to mid 60s.  A year earlier the studio (which was owned and operated by the legendary duo of James H. Nicholson and Samual Z. Arkoff) had had a big hit with a film called Beach Party in which the popular singer Frankie Avalon was paired with the curvacious ex-Mousketeer Annette Funicello in a light comedy that had more to do with its featured pop songs and bikini-clad female extras than anything that really resembled a plot.  The film had been directed by William Asher, a TV veteran best remembered for his later work on the classic sitcom Bewitched (and for his once having been married to that show's uber-hottie leading lady, Elizabeth Montgomery), who gave the movie a colourful cartoonish quality that resembled the work of Frank Tashlin, one of the few directors of that period to make the transition from animation to live-action.  The result wasn't nearly as polished as Tashlin's work, but it made a ton of cash at the box office, which inspired the studio to start developing as many sequels they could before their famously fickle audience grew tired of the formula.

In 1964 they made Bikini Beach (which featured a totally absurd, but still oddly funny, parody of the Beatles in the form of the Potato Bug--a broad stereotype of the typical Englishman as portrayed by Avalon in a dual role) and Muscle Beach Party (which featured Don Rickles, a lot of anonymous bodybuilders and a mesh-bikini ensemble that served as the sartorial highlight of Funicello's career), both of which were directed and co-written by Asher.  As fast as these two films were put together, AIP wasn't satisified and wanted a third film ready to be released that same year.  The problem was that neither Asher nor Avalon were available to make this happen.  AIP's solution to this dilemma was to make a movie that followed the same formula as the first three pictures (slapstick comedy, light romance, pop songs, bikinis and cameos from older and inexpensive well-established character actors) but was not technically a part of the Beach series.  Instead of playing Dee Dee, her character in the previous three films and the two that would follow in 1965, Funicello played a girl named Connie and her love interest this time was her former Disney costar Tommy Kirk--who had just been fired by Walt's studio upon their discovery that he was gay--in the role of Gogo, a martian sent by his superiors to observe the teenagers of Earth before their invasion of the planet.  Beyond that the effort to seperate the film from its predecessors was neglible, as it featured most of the same regulars from the series, some of whom were given new names or identities (most notably Jody McCrea who went from being the wacky second-banana Deadhead to the slightly-less wacky supporting lead Big Lunk), while others played the exact same characters they had before (namely Harvey Lembeck who once again played Erich Von Zipper, the hapless leader of the local biker gang).  It was directed by Don Weis, another TV veteran whose other major project that year was a forgotten Connie Francis vehicle called Looking for Love.

The film, of course, was:

As always, the movie opens with a musical celebration of all of the fun our merry band of lads and lasses are going to have that summer:

Hey Mr. Sun come out and shine!
Hey Mr. Sun it's party time!
We're feeling great and we're feeling fine!
It's that kind of day!
Yeah, yeah, yeah!

Hey Mr. Sun we'll be on time!
Hey Mr. Sun you've gotta shine!
We're feeling great, yeah we're feeling fine!
It's that kind of day!

As they threaten the sun with demands I doubt they could enforce, our gang descends upon a backyard that features a large pool and his and her changing rooms.  One naughty lad attempts  to follow his girlfriend into the ladies room, but she won't have it and pushes him outside--isn't that wild and kooky?

Isn't sweet to recall a time when guys wanted to go into the girl's changing room because there was no guarantee
that they would see those same girls flash their breasts as soon as someone whipped out their video camera?

Quaint as that is, it gets even quainter was we watch the two groups change:

What the hell is Big Lunk--aka the guy in the red baseball cap--looking at?

In 1964 you still had to change behind an obstruction of some kind even when you were in an already gender-segregated changing room.  Why?  Just fucking because, that's why!  Not stop asking stupid questions or else Santa Claus won't leave you anything under the tree next Christmas. 

The two groups manage to finish changing just as the credits finish rolling and the song ends.  They stream out of the changing rooms (where, either as a joke or--more probably--due to a fuck up, we see at least one young man come out of the ladies' room) and hit the pool where they dance and swim and do what all the young folks like to do.

As they cavort happily, we discover that they are being watched from a monitor in a strange red room occupied by Don Rickles and a star whose voice is easily identifiable, but who is shot from the back, so as not to spoil his anti-climatic reveal at the end of the movie. 

One of us is a body double, the other is not.  Can you tell which is which?

It turns out that Rickles and Star-To-Be-Determined-Later are Martians who are observing the teenagers in preperation for their planned invasion of the planet.  Rickles wants to call the invasion off, but Suprise-Cameo guy is adament that it continue forward, arguing that since these teenagers are so wild and unpredictable that it is in the Martians best interest to take control of them before they wreck havoc on the universe.  Rickles complains that they are sending the worst possible Martian to serve as the invasion's advance man, but the guy in charge explains that it makes sense to send their stupidest recruit, since he won't be able to tell the Earth people anything about his home planet or the invasion if he gets captured.  Rickles leaves--not wanting to even be in the same room as the doofus in question--and we are introduced to our hero, Gogo the Martian, who has deduced through his research of Earth culture that the most inconspicuous costume he could wear is an usher's uniform.

I need to get me a jacket with some serious epaulets.  I would be so stylin' I could start snubbing people who aren't as cool as I am--which would be everyone!

Gogo repeats his mission statement to his leader--"To prepare the planet for the infiltration!"--and is then told that in 48 hours he will be followed by the first party of 10, who will proceed to make good on their plan to colonize the puny planet.

Back on said puny planet, the teenagers the Martians have been observing continue to cavort poolside, as well as dancing underwater and performing wacky stunts off of the diving boards.  It is here we are introduced to the young woman who is--to my mind--the true star of the picture.  Her name is Jilda (no really, that's ner name) and she is possessed by an aura of such palbable sensuality that even her simplest movement can cause chaos to occur around her:
Unfortunately, Jilda is given much less screen time than Connie and her boyfriend "Big Lunk".  Not that they aren't entertaining--they just aren't entertaining if you get what I mean (and I think you do).

In many ways, Pajama Party represented Jody McCrea's true moment in the sun,
as it offered him the chance to play an idiot who was important to the plot,
rather than just a general idiot in the movie's background.
Referring to another couple who they see kissing in the pool, Connie rather brazenly (the cheap hussie!) asks BL if he is reminded of anything.  Being of a one track mind, as well as a serious moron, BL does not get his girlfriend's hint to intiate some public affection with her and is instead reminded that it's time to play some volleyball.  Offended by his cluelessness, Connie does what any girl in a beach movie would do to show her disatisfaction.  She pushes him in the pool:
That'll learn 'im!

Following this moment of high drama, the film cuts over to the pool at the house next door.  There the first and most famous Maytag Repairman, Jessie White, is seen lounging in one of those floating deckchair dealies.
This has to be the sexiest image that will ever appear on this blog.

Turns out the gang's cigar-chomping neighbor is a nefarious con artist named J. Sinister Hulk, and he's waiting for the rest of his crew to arrive, so he can set his big nefarious plan in motion.  In case you missed it, he's the villian of our little tale.

The kids, meanwhile, have left the safety of the pool for the warm sand of the beach, where they are engaged in serious game of no holds barred volleyball.  The action is so brutal that Big Lunk gets knocked out by a ball to the head, which happened to be served by the voluptious Jilda.

Please excuse me while I try to think of a joke in which the word ball is used as an euphemism for a man's testicle.

Back at the house, Big Lunk's aunt (who happens to be the owner of the property as well as a dead ringer for The Bride of Frankenstein ) is busy tending to her flowers when Gogo comes floating down to Earth from wherever Martians come from.

Imagine the sound of a small helicopter to get the full effect.

Rather than being frightened by the strange young man in the usher's uniform, Aunt Wendy helps him down when his anti-gravity doohickey leaves him stuck in mid-air.

She really raked him in, didn't she?  Get it?  Get it?  These are the jokes, folks.

Back at the beach, Big Lunk has recovered from his injury enough to get the volleyball game going again.  As they play, the local biker gang watches and their leader, the moronic Erich Von Zipper, complains that the kids are getting footprints all over his beach.

This folks is the comic relief.  You've been warned.

Being anti-social biker types, Von Zipper's gang (who call themselves The Rats) decide to terrorize the kids by chasing them around the beach on their motorized bicycles.  Unfortunately for Von Zipper, the joke is on him, because he drives right into the the volleyball net, which then slingshots him across the beach.

This sequence is designed to clearly illustrate that Erich Von Zipper is to teenagers what Wile E. Coyote is to roadrunners.

Back at the mansion, Gogo tries to convince Aunt Wendy that he is really a Martian as she grabs him some of her nephew's clothes to wear.  Using his "transducer" he vaporizes a sports trophy and he shows her how his fellow Martians plan to invade Earth by using the teleporter he attaches to a nearby wardrobe cabinet.  Perhaps Rickles had a point about this guy, since Gogo hasn't been on the planet for ten minutes and he's already told the first person he met all of the details about the upcoming invasion.  Luckily for his commanders on Mars, the older woman doesn't seem to be too concerned about the news and instead focuses on getting him changed into a less ridiculous outfit, renaming him "George" and introducing him to some nice Earth girls.

For those of you not up on your Who's Who in Queer Hollywood, this image contains the actor
who was fired from Walt Disney for being gay and the actress who was  once married
 to a famous actor who had a fondness for young boys.

At the beach, the volleyball game soon degenerates into a dance sequence, when a hot brunette gets the ball and starts doing all sorts of funky stuff with it.

Pajama Party introduced the world to Toni Basil , the actress/singer/choreographer
who would later star in Easy Rider and Rockula, but who remains best known for her impossibly catchy 80s hit single "Hey Mickey".

More girls join the hot brunette as they celebrate the joys of youth through dance, but their thunder is quickly stolen when Jilda arrives to steal the boys attention:

The other girls join forces in attempting to steal the boys' attention back away from the stunning siren, and they eventually succeed--proving that it takes a dozen hot girls to equal the power of one Jilda.

With this hard cold fact clearly established, we return to J. Sinister Hulk, who is waiting for his three cohorts in crime to arrive.  These three accomplices make for a fun trio of total stereotypes, as they include Hulk's flunky idiot, a Native American and a stacked Swedish blonde bombshell.  The flunky idiot is there so Hulk has someone to insult and degrade, and the Indian (who happens to be played--as broadly as possible--by a genuine silent movie legend) is there because he's the only one who can communicate with the Swede, who cannot speak a word of English.  The fact that he accomplishes this communication by using only the most obvious of sign language, suggests that Hulk isn't too bright when it comes to putting together a crew to work his cons.  This is further proven when the trio arrives at Aunt Wendy's house instead and the Indian and the Swede go inside so she can change and take a bath.

"I'll tell you one thing, Charlie Chaplin never had to put up with shit like this!"

While this unusual pair make themselves at home in the wrong house, Connie's friend (and Big Lunk's ex) Donna entertains everyone by singing an ode to the glories of the beach lifestyle:

Apparently Donna Loren was famous at the time for appearing in a series of popular Dr. Pepper commercials.  Don't worry, I had never heard of her either.

Out where the sun shines bright all day
Down the coast towards Malibu way
That's where we dance, that's where we swim
Where's there's a her for every him!
Cuz that's the way it's done
Amongst the young!

As Donna sings, Jilda once again mesmerizes the men around her, causing marshmallows to ignite as she moves her hips:

Back at Aunt Wendy's, "George" returns inside looking for a shirt to go with his new swim trunks.  As he goes upstairs, not aware that he is about to come across a gorgeous Swede taking a bath, we cut to Hulk talking to his flunkie, who has found his boss and explained to him that the other two members of their crew are currently in the wrong house.  Hulk tells the doofus that it is important that the Swede doesn't run into Big Lunk, since their whole masterplan depends on her seducing him so he can tell her where his rich aunt keeps all of the dough everyone knows she has hidden somewhere in her mansion.  Luckily for Hulk, it's the Martian and not the clueless jock who discovers the blonde in the bathtub.

Betcha Tommy never got to see anything like this on the Disney lot!

The Swede and the Indian (they actually have names, but it's so much easier just to refer to their stereotypes) realize they're in the wrong mansion and skedaddle out of there as quickly as they can.

Meanwhile Connie (remember her?) is found sitting at the beach (or a reasonable backscreen projected facsimile thereof) looking pensive by Aunt Wendy, who asks her what is wrong.  Connie complains that Big Lunk just isn't doing it for her anymore, to which his aunt responds by introducing the girl to the alien she met earlier that day.  Connie attempts to impress the handsome (we'll pretend, it's just a movie) stranger by looking as seductive as she possibly can.

Don't judge--it's not like you could look any more seductiver.

It doesn't take long for Connie to conclude that this new fellow is a nut, but he's a cute nut, so she gives him the benefit of the doubt.  Aunt Wendy invites the two of them to come to her popular dress shop that afternoon--an invitation that happens to coincide with Hulk's decision to send the Swede and the Indian to the same shop to buy some new clothes to replace the ones that were lost in that afternoon's confusion.  He also informs them to be on the lookout for Big Lunk, who they'll recongnize thanks to his red baseball cap.

Left alone on the beach, "George" tells Connie that he's from Mars.  She responds by telling him "And I'm from Venus," which is an exchange we have to assume gave John Gray the inspiration he needed to make millions off of a lot of stupid people.

It soon turns out that Connie is using "George" to make her boyfriend jealous, but BL refuses to rise to the bait, telling her that he trusts her too much to worry about her spending time with another guy.  When "George" joins them, BL changes his tune a little when he notices that the stranger is wearing his clothes (which must be made out of some miracle fiber that can instantly shrink so that they can fit an obviously shorter man).  "My clothes!  My car!  My girl!  Is there anything else you'd like?" BL asks him snidely.  The honest alien is unfamiliar with sarcasm and asks to borrow BL's red cap, which we know will lead to some hilarious confusion sometime in the near future (especially since The Rats, who want to avenge their recent volleyball net humiliation are now also on the lookout for the guy in the red baseball cap).

Maybe he used some of that Martian tecnology to tailor the clothes to his much smaller dimensions?

As Connie and "George" drive to Aunt Wendy's dress shop, he again tries to convince her he really is an alien and tells her about life on Mars, declaring his love and devotion to her in the process.

I love it when they don't even try to make the backscreen effects look realistic.

It's all so much for our stranger from a strange land that he starts communicating through song:

There has to be a reason
For every little th-i-ing
There has to be a summer
To follow every spri-i-ng

And Connie is compelled to join in by adding:

There has to be a reason
For every night and da-a-ay

To which "George" admits:

There has to be a reason
Just why I feel this waaay

Having had those last two lines to think about it, she concludes that:

As a matter of fact
It is easy to see
It is really nothing new
It's a natural act
Plain as can be
It's why there's me and you!

They go on about this for a bit longer, driving past The Rats as they do.  Seeing BL's red cap on "George's" head, they assume he's the man they want and start following them.  Meanwhile at Aunt Wendy's dress shop, the head saleswoman (who looks a lot like a 50 year old version of the woman who starred in all of those Hope and Crosby movies) and the store's models (whose number includes a very young Teri Garr) engage in an impromptu musical number, which we have to assume is for their own enjoyment, since there are no actual customers around to see it.  Of course the highlight of the number is a brief dance by Jilda, who looks so good in her Asian-styled dress that she is shot completely apart from the rest of the girls, lest she put them all to shame.

After the number is over, life returns to normal at the dress shop, which isn't entirely a good thing, since the head saleswoman's first response upon seeing the Indian walk into the store is to"...tell him to make another reservation--someplace else!"  Blatent racism played for laughs!  Weren't the 60s nifty? 

But the Indian is spared the humiliation of being kicked out of the store when it becomes clear that the Swede is with him--her Aryan blondeness giving him the instant gloss of respectability.  Still, as she is taken away to try on some new clothes, he manages to stir things up when he gets into a spritzing battle with the perfume girl.

Thanks to Buster Keaton's famously stone-faced reactions, this sequence is actually quite funny.  I know, I was shocked too.

Around this time Connie and "George" arrive at the shop, only to be quickly followed by The Rats.  The movie comes "this close" to becoming a French Farce as the red cap rapidly jumps from head to head, forcing the Swede to bury its wearer in kisses on the off chance she actually has BL in her grasp.  Eventually (and seemingly out of nowhere, since Connie and "George" drove to the store in his car) BL arrives on the scene and claims the cap that rightfully belongs to him.

I think this is what filmschool types call "filling the frame."

Having successfully retrieved his cap, BL leaves the shop and hops into his car (thereby stranding his girlfriend there with another man).  The Indian and the Swede follow after him and hop into his car.  Since this is 1964 and car-jacking hasn't been invented yet, BL doesn't have a problem with this and starts driving away with two complete strangers as his passengers.  As he drives, the Swede proceeds to put her sexy nordic moves on him.  Within no time at all, she has managed to melt away BL's icy exterior and has him serving dangerously across the road.  To make matters even more dangerous, The Rats start chasing after them--Von Zipper having become enraged that the muscle bound jock has abducted away the girl of his dreams.  A veeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy-llllllllooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggggg and excrutiatingly wacky chase ensues.  It culminates in another Wile E. Coyote-esque moment for poor old Erich, as his sidecar plunges down the edge of a cliff.

Once again, the timing of an old pro makes a tired worn out gag far funnier than it has any right to be.

Back at the mansion, "George" attempts to apologize to Connie for allowing himself to be kissed by the Swede when she thought he was the true owner of the red baseball cap, but Connie turns out to be a fairly unforgiving bitch and completely rebuffs his understandable explanation.  That night the man-weary young lady sings a song that informs us that:

A stuffed animal is better than he
Soft and cuddly and he stays close to me
Always gentle as a matter of fact
A stuffed animal never talks back

A stuffed animal is more than a toy
Soft and cuddly and not like a boy
When you're wondering if he loves you so
A stuffed animal never says 'no'

Clearly Connie has issues.  This is especially made clear when she imagines one of her stuffed animals is winking at her.

Someone call the paddy wagon, this girl is ker-razy!

Unfortunately the movie drops the whole "Connie is a total psycho" thread before it gains any momentum, which is too bad, because it would have made for a much more interesting ending to the film.  Instead, Jilda (ah, Jilda...) totally breaks character by speaking (who knew she could talk?) and says "Connie, you're in love with George!", which is an odd conclusion for her to reach since we've been shown no evidence that she has ever even met the Martian or is even dimly aware of his existence.

Is it just me or does Susan Hart (aka Jilda) look totally like Christina Ricci in this shot?

While the girls discuss Connie's love life (she responds to Jilda's accusation by throwing a pillow at her friend's head, but the filmmakers were too cowardly to follow this up with an all-out girls-in-nighties pillow fight), J. Sinister Hulk and his crew wait for the Swede to return from her date with BL.  Hulk has hidden a microphone in a broach located in the middle of the blonde's generous cleavage and has taught the nordic beauty (who I have thus far neglected to mention is played by Bobbi Shaw who returns with White and a Keaton-imposter in the other Don Weis/Tommy Kirk almost-beach movie The Ghost in the Invisble Bikini --a film whose promise is undone by the unfortunate decision to outfit it's primary asset, Susan "Jilda" Hart, in a ridiculous blonde wig)  just the right words to get BL to tell her what they need to hear.  "Tell you know where your aunt keeps her money?" she asks him in her fractured English, before adding "Tell me the answer," as she points to the broach and informs him to, "speak in here, slowly."  BL looks at her for a moment before he bends his neck down to speak into her bejeweled decoletage. 

I am slightly embarrassed to admit that this scene did make me laugh out loud.

Before we can hear his complete answer, the film cuts away to a scene of his aunt retrieving some cash from her Rube Goldbergesque wall-safe, which is hidden behind a bookshelf beside the portrait of her dead husband (which is obviously a painting of Keenan Wynn, the character actor who played the bad guy in Bikini Beach).  We then return to the Swede and BL as he drops her off at her home.  He compliments her on her ability to carry on a conversation (y'see it's funny because she speaks no English and has allowed him to do all of the talking) and asks her if she minds if they did "it" one more time.  But before things turn raunchy, it turns out that "it" is arm-wrestling, which is an activity the healthy Swede is very good at, as she easily beats her athletic suitor.  With that done, she leaves him to go inside and hands over the tape-recording to her conniving boss, who eagerly sits down to listen to it.

"I bet Harold Lloyd doesn't have to put up with this shit!"

But to Hulk's chagrin, it turns out that BL has no idea where his aunt keeps the money, since she has never told him due to the fact that he's such an obvious dope.  This means Hulk has to come up with a new plan to find the old widow's hidden cash.

Morning comes and Connie gets up and hears "George" talking to someone in BL's room.  She walks inside and discovers him communicating with his Martian commanders as BL lies--stiff as board--against the wall, having been frozen by "George's" alien technology. 

Note the look of utter betrayal on Funicello's face.  All those years on The Mickey Mouse Club weren't for naught, that's for sure!

Of course, Connie being Connie, her first thought isn't the danger her new boyfriend poses to the safety of the world.  Instead all she has to say is "Holy cow!  Of everyone in the whole world to fall in love with, I had to pick a Martian!" before she storms out of the room.

Of course by now, over an hour into the movie, I'm sure you're thinking "Uh, isn't this movie called Pajama Party?  Shouldn't there actually be a Pajama Party at some point before it ends?"  It's a fair question and we have the movie's villian to thank for the answer.  His original plan having been squashed by BL's ignorance, Hulk devises a scheme in which he will invite Aunt Wendy and all of the kids over to his place for a late night pajama party.  While they are there, he and his henchman will sneak into her empty house and find the hidden stash of cash and become very rich men.  But, fearing that it might seem odd for a middle-aged man to invite a group of teenagers to his house for a pajama party, Hulk concludes that he has to find a group of youths to pose as his own houseguests, so that the event seems more natural.  He sends his idiot flunky to recruit these "typical cleancut youths", so he deserves the results he gets:

I love the look of confusion on Lembeck's face.  Almost as much as I love the hot redhead on the right.

That night the kids descend upon Hulk's pool and proceed to party-hearty in their jammies.  It's all so crazy it inspires Connie to sing a song:

We're gonna get together tonight, tonight
Tell everybody that the time is right!
Just after eight, we'll congregate
Pajama party tonight!

Gonna get together and dance all night
And do some talkin' while the moon is bright!
So get your date and don't be late
Pajama party tonight!

See, told ya Teri Garr was in this movie.

Connie continues singing, informing us:

Don't you know it's the latest craze?
Having a party in your PJs!

After the song ends (and Connie has gotten thrown into the pool) "George" finds her and informs her that he has abandoned his allegiance to his planet and that from now on he is devoted only to her and her kind.  If I were her I would totally dump his ass--who wants a guy who would so easily sell out his entire planet just for a hot Italian chick with a nice rack?  Before we can hear her respond to his declaration, the "cleancut youths" Hulk's idiot flunky paid for arrive on the scene, just in time for the self-described "King of the Con Men" to break into his neighbor's house.

God help me, they look adorable.
Havoc ensues.

Eventually Hulk and his henchmen find the wardrobe cabinet "George" turned into an interplanetery transporter and mistake it for Aunt Wendy's safe, while The Rats get their asses handed to them by the clever kids.  "George" and BL manage to trap the thieves in the transporter cabinet and "George" promptly sends them to Mars.  He and Connie finally make up and make out, while BL does the same with the Swede, who has turned her back on her criminal past.  Back on Mars, the arrival of the con men forces the aliens to conclude that all Earthlings--not just their teenagers--are crazy and are thus best left alone.  At last we finally get to see who the mysterious Martian leader really is and if you hadn't guessed it within the film's first five minutes, you have serious mental issues.
It's Frankie!
Isn't that just so gosh-darn kookie!

Seriously, how could you not see this coming?

All that's left to do now is to continue the party, which means dancing, which--more importantly--means Jilda!

And, since the filmmakers know what truly made this film work, they allow Jilda to continue dancing throughout the end credits.
So, that's Pajama Party, the first in a series of Bad Films I Like Anyway.  I have really nothing to say about the film to defend it, other than it is sweet and colourful and--best of all--features Susan Hart doing what she did best.  I wish a lot more films could make that very same claim.