Don’t Knock the Rock (USA, 1956) 84 min B&W DIR: Fred F. Sears. SCR: Robert E. Kent, James B. Gordon. PROD: Sam Katzman. DOP: Benjamin H. Kline. CAST: Alan Dale, Alan Freed, Fay Baker, Patricia Hardy, Bill Haley, Little Richard, The Treniers. (Columbia)
Bill Haley, featured in the first Alan Freed musical, Rock Around the Clock, appears in the opening credits, singing the title song. Don’t Knock the Rock is aptly named, as rock and roll once again comes under scrutiny by disapproving old officials, and curiously their disdain is directed towards some crooner named Arnie Haines (played by singer Alan Dale), whose sound belongs more with Vic Damone than Chuck Berry. After singing “I Cry More” in an auditorium, he gets chased by girls while screeching away in his car after the show- shades of A Hard Day’s Night.
This Alan Freed film begins the trend of being a series of musical numbers, strung together by an operable plot that barely attempts to incorporate the rock and roll into the story line. For instance, Arnie decides to take a break from showbiz, but still stops by Bill Haley’s studio to provide the excuse for viewers to hear a couple of numbers. Still, Arnie goes back to his home town for some R&R, and despite the fanfare accorded his return a la Hail the Conquering Hero, the stern old mayor warns him, “One toot, and you’re in jail”, if he ever decides to play that demon rock and roll. This is their reaction to a crooner like Arnie? What would they have said if Bill Haley was the rock and roll hero coming home?
Arnie dates Francine (Patricia Hardy), the daughter of wicked columnist Arline MacLaine (Fay Baker), who of course is slagging him in print. Good thing Arnie has his pal Alan Freed in tow, who convinces a club owner to have a rock and roll show, which would end up making him more money in one night than he would make all summer. Sure, the music may be sinful, but money talks! And good for us cultural archivists, too, as we get to hear Bill Haley do “Just Got Paid”, The Treniers “Rockin’ On Saturday Night”, and even Arnie gets in on the action with “One of These Days.”
In this slightly more enlightened age, we have to remember that the only way a lot of rock and roll enthusiasts got to hear some acts was because of films like this. For instance, some segregated radio stations would not play Little Richard, but would have no problem putting on white acts that did covers of his songs. So it is worthy to note that Little Richard is seen doing two numbers in Freed’s revue, the classics “Long Tall Sally” and “Tutti Frutti.”
In the world of Alan Freed movies, the words rock and roll don’t approximate anything close to the old Harlem slang term for the nasty. For instance, columnist Mom, who is dragged to this rock and roll show, laments that “nothing has happened but the most vulgar form of exercise.” But still, a minor scandal evolves when Sunny, who was spurned by Arnie (what’s with the spurned woman subplots in these films?) decides to turn the show into a debacle by getting drunk and –gasp- throwing booze on people.
Alas, interestingly enough, the adults are always proven to be wrong in these movies, and this film is actually quite clever in revealing how the older generation uses rock and roll as an excuse for problems that they cannot or do not solve.
Alan Freed decides to stage a dance show, showing people in George Washington wigs doing a waltz, followed by flappers doing a Charleston. We see how the dance has been exaggerated into a faster number, and just when Freed is about to make his point by showing how rock and roll is the next logical step in the traditional art of dance, the mayor blusters in outrage. However through this dialogue the adults are made to see their myopia, and good clean fun is had by all. Arnie, once the pariah of the small town gets to sing the fitting song, “Don’t Knock the Rock”. Yes, these pictures were made by people a generation older than their intended audience. Even with the stilted camerawork and the like, we have to admire their sporadic attempts at hipness, such as the end title card, “Dig you later.” (And we would dig more of Alan Freed later with Rock, Rock, Rock! (1956), Mister Rock and Roll (1957), and Go, Johnny, Go! in 1959.)
Gallery
Sam Katzman, Little Richard 
The Treniers 
