Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in what you hope is sweat, with one burning thought booming around your brain: was there ever a “jolly” version of the Plymouth Volaré? And, if so, did that jolly variant of a Plymouth Volaré have a subscale go-kart variant? These are important questions, dammit.
In this one very specific case, I’m happy to report that I have answers for you. And I just realized you may have more questions; I’m sure you don’t need any explanation of Plymouth Volarés, of course, seeing as how those cars are the very bedrock upon which our culture is built.
You know this is true because these cars have a song, a powerful, emotion-slathered song, all their own:
Wow. Take a moment to just breathe. Let that really sink in.
Okay, now, I realize some of you may not be familiar with the concept of a “jolly” when it comes to cars. If so, I’m happy to explain: a jolly is a version of a car designed for transport of visitors to an from resorts. Since these were resort cars, they tended to operate in tropical climates, and as such had reduced bodywork, with removed doors and roofs, the roof either open or often replaced with a simple, fringed “surrey top.” The best known of these jollys (jollies?) are likely the Fiat 500 and 600 Jollys:
Fun stuff, right? Well, if you had to pick a car least likely to be made into a Jolly, I think it would be entirely reasonable to pick a Plymouth Volaré Wagon:
And yet, somehow, there was one made. A Volaré Jolly was built! Look:
Who is that in there? And why? Hey, hey, calm down, we’re getting to that! In the Volaré Jolly is none other than Ricardo Montalban, the man who introduced the world to rich Corinthian leather:
Montalban was a man who clearly liked to keep busy, because in addition to informing the world about the intense, decadent luxury of the Chrysler Cordoba and its seats, clad in the finest hides of Corinth, he was also the man (or perhaps some ethereal being)a in charge of an island, going by the name Mr.Roarke, a magical, barely-comprehensible island where, I’m told, one’s fantasies came true, perhaps via liberal application of hallucinogens or maybe a pact with some colony of djinn. No one really knows.
The dark secrets of the island were piped into American homes from 1977 to 1984, and early on they used Jolly-ized Jeeps:
But Jeeps just don’t have that fantasy quality that a Volaré has, so in later seasons we were treated to the Volaré Jolly, a 1978 model that featured removed doors, blanked-out hinge and striker plates, and, of course a surrey top.
It’s implied that there are multiple Volaré courtesy cars on the island, but I’m not certain how true that was. I suspect the production company made multiple ones, though.
There was definitely one variant of the Volaré, made just for Tattoo, and scaled appropriately:
I’m pretty sure this has to be the only go-kart version of a Volaré ever built, right?
Want to watch a whole episode that not just includes some cameos of the Volaré and the Devil himself? Of course you don’t. But too bad!
Always thought it just looked like a hacked-up wagon, seemed kind of crude and unfinished compared to other cars given the surrey treatment. Maybe its the presence of the B-pillar, maybe its that the door openings still have the original shape, maybe its that the Volare/Aspen were irredeemable piles of junk straight off the assembly line, not sure
Dad: Look son, I got you a go-kart!
Son: YAY!!!!!!
Dad: And it’s a Volare go-kart.
Son: Ohhhhhhhhh……..
A couple fun facts:
For the final season (’83-’84) the French actor who played Tattoo, Hervé Villechaize, was replaced by the British actor Christopher Hewett; since Hewett was actually a couple inches taller than Ricardo Montalbán the studio executives insisted that scenes with both of them be staged so that Lawrence, the new sidekick, appeared shorter than Mr. Roarke.
Not at all apropos of Fantasy Island other than the starring actor, lol, but Montalbán starred as a police detective in a surpisingly good low-budget film noir, directed by John Sturges, in 1950 titled Mystery Street which is considered one of the earliest films, if not actually one of the very first, to show forensic science being used in some detail to identify the skeleton of a murder victim and to solve the case.
While it’s considered by many to be a relatively minor film and is nowhere near as well-known as Sturges’s later works (such as Bad Day at Black Rock, The Magnificient Seven, & The Great Escape) Mystery Street is eminently well worth seeking out & watching.
Thanks for the tip – I’d never even heard of it. FWIW, Bad Day at Black Rock is one of the best Sturges movies that way too few people have seen. Such an oddball concept that just works.
Yeah, even friends & family who have watched a lot of film noir had never heard of Mystery Street either; it didn’t do well at the box office upon release and stayed pretty unknown and under-appreciated but now seems to be gaining some new appreciation through TCM and the internet though it’s still rather obscure.
Ha, yeah, while I saw The Great Escape multiple times and loved it in childhood & seen parts of The Magnificient Seven I’ve not ever seen Bad Day at Black Rock and actually didn’t know until I looked it up just now, lol, that it wasn’t an old-timey Western but a noir Western set in 1945, just ten years before it was made in ’55. Yeah, I’ll have to give it a watch.
Speaking of old-timey Westerns, since the Old West spanned roughly the 1850s to the 1910s some of the earliest Westerns were actually contemporary… Recently I watched William S. Hart’s first feature film, The Bargain, a pretty gritty but surprisingly humorous Western made in 1914 and set in 1889 https://moviessilently.com/2014/12/03/the-bargain-1914-a-silent-film-review/ It was pretty astonishing to be watching a Western made only twenty-five years after its setting. Yeah, today’s equivalent, with the setting 25 years in the past, would still be set in the 21st century, lol…
I remember the fiberglass-body go-kart replica of the Volaré wagon as well; one of them was featured in the show for Tattoo to drive. Other copies were sold to the public; I remember seeing one on a promotional giveaway somewhere that I dropped my name into the drawing for.
Here’s one that was auctioned, said to be the one that Hervé Villechaize drove in the series:
Lot 156 1977 CUSTOM FANTASY ISLAND GOLF CART | Barrett-Jackson
I suspect it’s one of the production replicas., though, as the one in the show had real headlights, not just a decal like the ones that have survived, and was trimmed out slightly differently:
1979-fantasy-island-s02e25-tattoo-02.jpg (900×675)
Ah for the days of fun tv shows, when everything didn’t have to be momentous and/or gritty all the time.
People forget that in the 70s and 80s, there was a lot of supernatural even sandwiched into otherwise not shows just because cool. Often in the last shows you’d expect it…Magnum PI for instance is somewhat surprisingly filled with it.
Who knew a Volaré on wagon wheels (is that the right name for those?) was my fantasy? Although, hovering a bit below freezing here, I’ll take the doors. And the windows. Maybe even the roof if Mr. Roarke is feeling generous.
One of my favorite things about 60s and 70s car culture is the prevalence of surrey-roofed (or roofless) “fun cars”. Stuff like this, or the VW Thing, or Citroen Mehari, or Renault Rodeo, or Fiat Jolly. The world needs more fun, impractical, irreverent, lighthearted vehicles. Why do cars need to be so serious and dire and angry?
It still low-key cracks me up that the Simpsons’ Patty and Selma own a Thing (still). The juxtaposition is just so wonderful.
Also the Mini Moke – now available again on this side of the ocean in LSEV form, internal combustion still available in countries with less onerous safety regulations
“jollys (jollies?)”
Jollii?
That’s the thing about the Malaise Era. Even our fantasies couldn’t entirely escape it.
Two things I remember from that show. One, Gilligan, Bob Denver, was on that island. Two one an episode, two guys wished to be surrounded by Wild Women, so Rorke sent them back in time to the cave man era.
Quién es más macho, Volaré o Montalbán?
Well right here you’ve got both. That’s as good as it’s gonna get.
Montalban, for sure. Did you see his chest in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan?
I wonder if Ricardo had some sort of contract where he could only be seen driving a Chrysler while he advertised for them, hence the move to Volare on the island; the Jeep acquisition was still a few years away.
Autopian should buy an old Volare and Jasón could chop saw it into a Jolly Autopian. White suits, Panama hats, sunglasses, Autopian logos, epic!
Jason could pass for Tattoo, in bad light.
Khaaaaan!
Also, apparently Volare.
Torch, you are a treasure. I shall start a cult dedicated to you and your eclectic knowledge.
Long live the Cult of Autopia!
$5000 a year, your soul, and a quart of transmission fluid from your car for ritual purposes to gain membership. Bring your own robe (terrycloth, stolen from a chain hotel)
Payable in gift cards, cashier check, or taillights. Send to Torch, our light in the automotive darkness!