Carnival Magic’s director, Al Adamson, was best known as a purveyor of exploitation schlock like Satan’s Sadists (1969) and I Spit on Your Corpse (1974). By the ‘80s, for some reason, he’d decided to change gears and get into the family market. The results are a peculiar mish-mash of child-like amazement and creepy adult themes that wouldn’t work even if they weren’t crammed into the same story. Let’s be clear: Carnival Magic isn’t a good movie. It is, however, so bizarre that a certain value should be placed on it. It stands so strongly among the “so bad it’s good” crowd that it might as well be wearing a cape and a crown with its fists planted firmly and confidently at its hips. It’s an odd duck, that’s for sure.
The plot strangely zig-zags through carnival act rivalries, psychic powers, grief and trauma, the nature of celebrity, misogyny, inappropriate relationships, alcoholism, vivisection, and talking monkeys. If that sounds out there, it is. Carnival Magic mostly follows the “save the rec center/summer camp/dance studio” formula, and in that regard is unconventional, but the road it travels sets it apart within a well-worn genre. In addition, you might think that a film with a chimp as a central character might have something in common with some of the other famous primate/buddy comedies of the day, but you’d be wrong. Aside from the car heist scene, there’s very little Every Which Way but Loose (1978), instead Carnival Magic opts for a more peculiar path than even that wacko Clint Eastwood vehicle. And to add an even more outlandish spin on the proceedings, I believe Carnival Magic had a hand in influencing 1982’s E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (you’ll know what I’m talking about the moment Alex opens his mouth). I’ll stand by that claim until Spielberg himself says otherwise (and then I’ll assume he’s lying).
I want you to watch this film, even though I can’t in good conscience recommend it. I’ve purposely left out any of its big surprises in the hopes that you’ll be as taken aback by them as I was. In a way, Carnival Magic is as masterful at misdirection as the best of stage magicians. Just when you think it’s about one thing, with a puff of smoke it’s about something else. This is a film that defies expectations while managing to confound, confuse, and possibly irritate. It’s so freakish that it could be considered brilliant if it weren’t so damn poorly put together. I’ll spare you, just in case you’ve decided to skip it: it’s not brilliant. It’s just really, really weird.
p.s. There is a Carnival Magic episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 out there. I haven’t seen it, but it’s on my list.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.