Some television theme songs stay with you for a lifetime. You might forget the plot, the characters and even the name of the show, but one little tune brings everything rushing back. For me, Chico the Rainmaker is one of those memories.
“Chico, Chico the Rainmaker… Chicopacobacowana, make the rain!”
There. I’ve done it. Now try getting that out of your head.
Produced in Britain in 1974 by Eyeline Films for the Children’s Film Foundation, Chico the Rainmaker was a seven-part adventure serial originally shown in cinemas as part of the famous Saturday matinees. It eventually reached television audiences in North America, including PBS in the United States and CBC in Canada.
The story was certainly unusual. Two siblings, Chris and Jill, encounter a talking shrunken head named Chicopacobacowana, better known as Chico. He needs their help to return to his tribe, where a terrible drought threatens his people. Chico is a rainmaker, and apparently two British children are just the people you need when your magical head needs to get home.
The production starred Spencer Plumridge as Chris, Leslie Ash as Jill and Clive Revill as the voice of Chico. It was also known as The Boy with Two Heads, which sounds like a title that should have required a meeting with the children’s programming department before anyone signed off on it.
And just to avoid any confusion, this is not Chico from Chico and the Man, the American sitcom starring Freddie Prinze and Jack Albertson. That Chico was a young man working in a garage. Our Chico was a talking shrunken head trying to bring rain to his tribe. Two completely different Chicos, although putting them in the same television production would have made for one very interesting cast meeting. One needed a mechanic. The other needed a rainmaker. Nobody needed an agent to explain that premise.
But the real magic was in the atmosphere.
Imagine being a child arriving at the Saturday morning pictures expecting the usual collection of lighthearted Disney-style cartoons and familiar adventure serials. Then along comes a talking shrunken head. Not exactly Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck territory. Chico looked like something that had escaped from a horror movie prop department, yet there he was, singing his way into children’s imaginations.
For some youngsters, the strange premise was probably the whole attraction. Here was a magical creature that could be carried around, hidden from adults and brought into an adventure involving mysterious powers, secret missions and bumbling villains. It was practically a playground fantasy for children with an adventurous streak, especially those who loved science fiction and anything a little out of the ordinary.
And that theme song! Children could easily find themselves chanting “Chico, Chico the Rainmaker!” in the playground, copying the drumbeats and flute sounds, and driving parents and teachers to distraction. It wasn’t simply something you watched. It was something you carried into the schoolyard.
I sometimes wonder whether the generation of parents who grew up in Britain during the Second World War had a different tolerance for this kind of entertainment. They had experienced a childhood shaped by very different circumstances. Perhaps a talking shrunken head on a Saturday morning wasn’t quite as alarming as it might have been to parents raised in the more carefully packaged world of postwar suburban television. Meanwhile, the children were having a wonderful time.
Would today’s youngsters take a shine to Chico? I’d love to see their reaction. Modern children have superheroes, elaborate animation and an endless supply of digital entertainment. But would a mysterious talking head with an unforgettable name still capture their imagination? I wouldn’t rule it out. Children haven’t stopped loving strange things. Perhaps we’ve simply become more cautious about what we put in front of them.
Chico also reflects a different era of children’s storytelling, particularly in its portrayal of an imaginary South American tribe and its magical traditions. Some of those choices would deserve a much closer look today.
And here’s another thought. Chico might have been rather useful in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Instead of swapping that golden idol for a bag of sand, Indy could have used a talking shrunken head as a decoy. Mind you, the moment that enormous boulder came crashing down the corridor, I suspect we’d all be shouting, “Oh no, Chico!” Harrison Ford could make his escape, but somebody had better save the head!
There is something wonderfully memorable about a production that could take such an extraordinary idea, give it a catchy theme song and send it off to entertain children in cinemas and living rooms.
And here I am, decades later, still remembering the lyrics.
“Chico, Chico the Rainmaker… Chicopacobacowana, make the rain!”
What were they smoking? And why am I still singing it?
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