I'll Take Sweden

Year releasted: 1965

by Keith Phipps
September 3rd, 2003

As prominent oil executive and single dad Bob Hope cruises home after another grueling assignment, his spirits are lifted by the parting words of daughter Tuesday Weld: "Daddy, I'm giving up boys and beach parties." Then, in the split-second command of dramatic irony that characterizes the Hope-meets-the-swinging-'60s farce I'll Take Sweden, he comes home to a house full of go-go-dancing, suspiciously old-looking teenagers having a party presided over by none other than beach-party king Frankie Avalon. Why, it's enough to make a man grumble one-liners under his breath! Though subjected to a terrifying rear-projection-assisted motorcycle ride, an awkward visit to Avalon's beachfront mobile home, and a police-raided trip to a remarkably chaste strip club, Hope decides he likes the kid. But, not wanting Weld to jump into a hasty marriage, he tries to stall her wedding plans by bribing Avalon with a cool sports car. When that doesn't work, Hope settles on the next logical plan: accepting a transfer to Sweden, and tricking Weld into thinking that Avalon has abandoned her. Settling into what his boss inexplicably calls "the worst assignment in our operation," Hope quickly warms to new acquaintance Dina Merrill and looks on approvingly as Weld begins dating fortyish, unconvincingly Swedish coworker Jeremy Slate. That approval starts to fade, however, when Slate's loose Swedish morals prompt him to ask Weld to a "youth festival" on a "pre-honeymoon." Hope then reaches out for some international aid, bringing Avalon from California to Sweden (which, through some kind of movie magic, look suspiciously similar). Eventually, everyone ends up at the youth festival, where the frolicking, scantily clad athletes prompt Hope to remark on all the time he's spent playing golf. Then, in a desperate bid to preserve Weld's virginity, Avalon, Merrill, and Hope race around a hotel room, arriving just in time to stop Slate's grabby hands and return Weld to California, a land of sun and surf still untouched by the corrupt European practice of premarital sex.