Chitty Chitty Bang Bang came about because Ian Fleming, who created the James Bond novels, had a heart attack in 1961 and was forced to convalesce. During this time, he was accused by his eight-year-old son Caspar of loving his creation more than his son. Fleming responded to this by writing a series of children’s stories called The Magical Car, which was later changed to Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang, and became his one and only children’s novel. Fleming never saw the stories come to print: he died in August of 1964, on his son’s 12th birthday. (The novel did not bode well for young Caspar either: he was deeply affected by his father’s death, and killed himself at age 23.)
Out of this tragedy was born a loosely adapted 1968 musical film, directed by Ken Hughes and starring Dick Van Dyke and Sally Ann Howes, with a screenplay by Roald Dahl and Hughes. CCBB was meant to capitalize on the success of Mary Poppins, which also starred Van Dyke doing a Cockney accent that discerning moviegoers still have yet to let him off the hook for. There was also a strong James-Bondian influence: Albert R. Broccoli, who produced many of the Bond films, was producer; Richard Maibaum, who wrote several Bond screenplays, was credited as co-screenwriter; and stuntman Vic Armstrong, who had doubled for 007, doubled for Van Dyke. This extended to the cast as well; noted Bond film actors Gert Frobe, Anna Quayle and Desmond Llewellyn (a.k.a. weapons/gadget master Q) were also in the film as Baron Bomburst, Baroness Bomburst and garage owner Mr. Coggins, respectively. Musical numbers were written by Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman, who also wrote songs for Mary Poppins.
At the turn of the century, car Number Three is winning every race in the European Grand Prix without fail from 1907 until 1909, when it swerves to avoid a child that has gotten onto the course and crashes fatally. The wreck of Number Three is retired to Coggins’ Garage in rural England, where it becomes the favorite plaything of Jeremy and Jemima Potts (Adrian Hall and Heather Ripley, who appear here as every stereotype you have ever heard about British children right down to “triffic” and grubby faces). When a crusty scrap dealer offers Coggins money for the car, they implore Coggins (Desmond Llewellyn) not to sell it, but Coggins says he can do nothing unless their father, Caractacus Potts (Van Dyke) buys the car first. Rushing away to tell their father, they are almost run over by the well-named Truly Scrumptious (Howes) in her own motorcar, who finds that the children are truant from school and takes them in hand.
Truly is far from prepared for what she finds at the children’s home: father Potts is an inventor who is almost beyond eccentric (upon first meeting Truly gets to witness the testing of a rudimentary and dangerous firework-powered jetpack that goes mightily awry), has created a number of weird and wacky inventions that are great eye-candy (including a Breakfast Machine that was no doubt an inspiration for the one seen in Tim Burton’s Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure), and seems indifferent to his children’s education or Truly’s concerns. Pop Potts, however, is not a patch on Grampa Potts (Lionel Jeffries), a former British Army batman who retires each day in full uniform to a small hut on the premises for activities that are not clearly disclosed except for mention of “going to Africa” or similar. (At one point Grampa is seen heading for the hut dressed as an Alaskan explorer with fur coat and ski poles, so we must assume that daily hut time involves encroaching senility, recreational drug use, a rich fantasy life, or all three.) While Truly is somewhat charmed by Potts’ inventions, she is not charmed by his attitude towards what he regards as meddling. Needless to say, they hit it off in that way of hitting it off that starts out as bickering and will blossom into true love by the end of the film.
The children eventually tell Potts about the car during supper, and while he resolves to help do something to save Number Three, he balks at the price, which is detrimental to the family finances. Trying to figure out what to do, Potts finds that the imperfect hole-filled stick candy from his candy machine can be played like a flute. He tries to sell the idea to the local candymaker, Lord Scrumptious (James Robertson Justice), who turns out to be the father of Truly, but senior Scrumptious is not interested. Urged on by Truly, Potts leads the entire factory floor in the number “Toot Sweets” and is almost successful until a pack of dogs, who hear the whistling candy, overrun the factory with disastrous results. Next, Potts notices a carnival coming into town and takes his automatic hair-cutting machine there, where he quickly ruins the hair of his customer Cyril (Arthur Mullard). Potts is chased through the carnival by Cyril and his girlfriend (Barbara Windsor) and ducks into a sideshow, where he winds up performing with the troupe in a Morris-dancing number called “Me Ol’ Bamboo” that showcases Van Dyke’s dancing talents (in his youth this man had some hellacious muscle control). Potts is the hit of the show and shares in the bounty of the troupe, providing him with enough money to rescue Number Three.
As the children and a disapproving Grampa wait over the course of several days, Number Three is reborn into the fabulous Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang, so named for the sound of its engine and its accompanying musical number. Celebrating by going on a picnic, they run into (and almost over) Truly, who accompanies them on the picnic. After some seaside cavorting, Potts tinkers with CCBB while the children bond with Truly over her own self-titled musical number and foreshadow the eventual romantic resolution. They return to the car and Potts, who begins telling them a made-up story of the evil Baron Bomburst (Gert Frobe) who is the ruler of a country called Vulgaria, approaching in a ship with his retinue to steal CCBB.
At this point, the film starts getting weird. Because everything that Potts is telling starts happening, in real time.
As the Baron’s ship draws closer, they try to start the car to no avail; the tide has come in. CCBB, however, displays a mind of its own, and starts itself. It then deploys a flotation device and rudder, effectively turning itself into a speedboat. The Baron gives chase and opens fire on CCBB, which maneuvers itself to avoid every shot; the Potts party escapes and the Baron’s ship runs aground. The Baron sends two spies (Alexander Dore and Bernard Spear) with instructions to capture CCBB. Meanwhile, Potts delivers Truly back to her home, where she sings the set-piece “A Lovely, Lonely Man” and delivers more romantic foreshadowing, while kids everywhere sit and squirm through the girly mushy stuff and wait for more action. Then, it’s back to the spies.
After a series of slapstick attempts that are purest Dastardly And Muttley and result in them accidentally capturing Lord Scrumptious (Irwin Kostal’s score is particularly hilarious here, and makes one long for a soundtrack album with both songs and score), the idiots—er, spies—finally hit on the idea of posing as an “English gentleman” and chauffeur, then traveling to Potts’ home and kidnapping him to build a car for the Baron instead of stealing CCBB. Doing so, they run into Grampa, and mistaking him for the younger Potts, watch him enter his hut and then radio the Baron’s airship to take him away, hut and all. Potts, Truly and the children, on an outing in CCBB, see the airship taking off with Grampa and the hut and give chase, accidentally driving the car off a cliff in their haste to rescue Grampa. CCBB saves them again by sprouting wings and propellers, following the airship to Vulgaria. Far from being frightened, Grampa is delighted at the impromptu trip, and sings the music-hall style “Posh.”
Vulgaria turns out to be a mittel-Europe province with a vaguely Germanic setting (as evidenced by the second-unit shot of the Baron’s castle), and the airship deposits Grampa and hut to the Baron’s castle, where Grampa gets his first good look at his captors in the Baron’s court, who seem to be a number of cranky elderly people. The Baron himself turns out to be an exceptionally childish, bratty and pernicious man who first congratulates Grampa on his inventions and then threatens him with beheading when Grampa tries to clear things up. (No, this doesn’t remind us of any current prominent world leaders at all.)
To save his own neck, Grampa has to pose as the younger Potts. He follows the Baron, who rides a giant toy hobby-horse, through the castle and meets the Baroness (Anna Quayle, exuding a sort of off-brand Evil Stepmother vibe), and is finally deposited into a dungeon-like laboratory with a number of other kidnapped scientists, where he is given orders to turn the baronial vehicle into a Vulgarian CCBB on pain of death. Grampa fears for his life, but the scientists encourage him to press on with the number “The Roses Of Success” which results in them destroying the car.
Meanwhile, Potts and crew have arrived in Vulgaria. Fired upon by the Baron and his crew, they land in the village outside the castle, where they hide CCBB under a bridge and investigate. The townspeople are no help, and Truly immediately notices that there are no children anywhere in Vulgaria. A nameless Toymaker (Benny Hill, in a much different role from the usual highjinks conducted on his TV show—man had some range, actually) rescues and hides them from the approaching soldiers, explaining to them that children are outlawed in Vulgaria, and his toymaking business is exclusively for the Baron. The soldiers conduct a search of the village and bring in the black-hatted, long-nosed, net-toting Child-Catcher (Robert Helpmann), who remains for a certain generation the most frightening thing about this movie: a government employee whose job is to abduct children. The Child Catcher himself searches the Toymaker’s shop, but Potts and crew avoid capture. The Toymaker reluctantly helps Potts search for Grampa and scout out the castle while the Child Catcher tricks the kids into coming out of hiding with sweets, in yet another page from The Dastardly And Muttley Playbook.
Truly, who has gone to find some food for the children, witnesses the capture and gives chase to no avail. The children are delivered to the Baron, who has also found and recovered CCBB. The Toymaker takes Potts and Truly to a grotto beneath the castle where they find all the children of Vulgaria, who have lived there in a self-made ghetto for five years and survive by stealing food from above. Touched by the plight of the children, Potts and Truly are galvanized into action, and resolve to save the Potts kids, Grampa, and the children of Vulgaria by hatching a plot with the Toymaker and the Vulgarian kids to revolt.
Regardless of whether you love it or hate it, this film looks good. Hughes and Broccoli spared no expense on talent or production values, and while the film (or at least half of it) is a fantasy, there’s a definite period flavor to the whole thing. Van Dyke (who wisely poses as an American expatriate living in England than an actual Englander) and Howes are both likable, and while some have longed for a re-teaming of Van Dyke and Julie Andrews for this movie (Andrews was approached for the role but turned it down), Howes offers enough contrast to the handsome but somewhat physically goofy Van Dyke to make it work. (Van Dyke’s dancing skills are no joke either; in their plot to rescue the Potts kids, Van Dyke and Howes pose as the Toymaker’s dolls, and Van Dyke pulls off some breathtaking opening moves in his Golliwog rag-doll routine, raising his body vertically out of the toybox he arrives in so that you’re almost convinced he’s on wires.)
Hill brings a weary but kindly melancholy to his Toymaker role, and it would have been interesting to see him take on some more dramatic roles in his career, if he had been given the opportunity. Frobe and Jeffries munch the scenery whenever they're onscreen, and Jeffries in particular is the epitome of the English-eccentric stereotype. Frobe, who is better known to Bond fans as Auric Goldfinger, had already played a role similar to Baron Bomburst in 1965’s Those Magnificent Men In Their Flying Machines; here he just ramps up the childishness and temperament to eleven, and Quayle serves as his foil (she adores the Baron, while he hates her and spends most of their number “Chuchi-Face” trying to bump her off). Both get theirs in the chaotic battle-for-Vulgaria scene along with Helpmann’s spidery and thoroughly evil Child-Catcher; Helpmann was a renowned ballet star who later went on to be in the Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company, and his skills serve him well in the creeping, skulking attitude of his character. The machines, created by Punch magazine cartoonist Rowland Emett, are one of the best things about the film, as is CCBB itself.
And let’s not do any pretending here, folks; we all came for the car, which makes the film take off once it rolls out from Potts’ workshop in its reconstituted form and turns out to be his most successful invention (even if he doesn’t quite remember building certain functions of it). And when the subplot with the Baron gets rolling, the weird blurring of reality and fantasy makes the film a very successful fairy-tale; even though some of the aspects are fantastic in nature, there’s enough grounding in reality to make them plausible. Does CCBB have a mind of its own? Hell if I know. But Potts is presented as being notoriously absent-minded, and of course there’s the whole bit at the beginning where the car just kept winning the Grand Prix over and over until it appeared to sacrifice itself to save a child’s life. File it under Things To Argue About With Other Cinemaphiles.
There’s not a whole lot of moral sophistication here. Good wins, evil loses, and past mistakes are forgiven. It’s not a particularly deep film, but it’s good entertainment that’s done well, and there’s nothing wrong with that even if some of it seems a bit sappy in spots (the slower numbers do bog it down, but not for very long). Even in films, most people will enjoy the cinematic equivalent of a burger and fries if it’s done well and maybe has some grilled onions and cheese. So order up.
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