Embracing The Melodrama Part III #8: The Boost (dir by Harold Becker)

Posted on March 18, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Seven days ago, we started embracing the melodrama with my review of No Down Payment, a look at lies and betrayal in suburbia. Today, we conclude things with 1988’s The Boost, a look at lies, betrayal, and cocaine in California, with the emphasis on cocaine.

From the first minute we meet Lenny Brown (James Woods, at his nerviest best), we assume that he has to be high on something. He’s a real estate broker and he’s one of those guys who always looks a little bit sleazy no matter how hard he tries otherwise. His smile is just a little too quick. He laughs a little bit too eagerly at his own jokes. He talks constantly, an endless patter of self-serving compliments, nervous jokes, and self-affirming platitudes. He’s a bundle of nerves but he’s also a brilliant salesman. We may assume that he’s on coke when we first see him but actually, he doesn’t touch the stuff. He barely drinks.

Of course, that changes when he’s hired by Max Sherman (Steven Hill). Max is a philosophical businessman, the type who makes sure that everyone who works for him gets a nice house, a nice car, and several lectures about what’s important in life. When Max first shows up, it’s tempting to dismiss him as just a self-important businessman but he actually turns out to be a nice guy. He gives Lenny a ton of good advice. Unfortunately, Lenny ignores almost all of it.

At first, life is good for Lenny and his wife, Linda (Sean Young). Lenny is making tons of money, selling houses that can used as a tax shelter or something like that. (I never understand how any of that stuff works.) Lenny is making all sorts of new friends, like Joel Miller (John Kapelos) and his wife, Rochelle (Kelle Kerr). Joel owns four car washes and he’s made a fortune off of them. All of that money means that he can throw extravagant parties and take nice trips. It also means that Joel has a never-ending supply of cocaine. At first, Lenny turns down Joel’s offer of cocaine but eventually he gives in. At the time, he says that he just needs a little boost. Soon both Lenny and Linda are addicts.

Of course, nothing goes on forever. The tax laws change and Max suddenly finds himself out-of-business. Lenny and Linda lose their house. They lose their expensive car. They even lose their private plane. They end up staying in a tiny apartment. Lenny says that he can still sell anything and that they’ll be back on top in just a few months. Of course, even while Lenny is saying this, his main concern is getting more cocaine…

Though dated, The Boost is an effective anti-drug film. The scene where Lenny overdoses is absolutely harrowing. Wisely, the film doesn’t deny the fact that cocaine is a lot of fun before you end up losing all of your money and having to move into a cheap apartment with shag carpeting. It’s a bit like a coke-fueled Days of Wine and Roses, right down to an ending that finds one partner clean and one partner still in the throes of addiction. James Woods gives a great performance as the self-destructive Lenny, as does Sean Young as his wife and partner in addiction. And then there’s Steven Hill, providing the voice of gruff wisdom as Max Sherman. When Max says that he feels that he’s been betrayed, Hill makes you feel as if the entire world has ended.

Speaking of endings, that’s it for this latest installment of Embracing the Melodrama. I hope you enjoyed this mini-series of reviews and that you will always be willing to embrace the … well, you know.

Embracing The Melodrama Part III #7: True Confessions (dir by Ulu Grosbard)

Posted on March 17, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 1981 film True Confessions tells many different stories.

It’s a story about Los Angeles. It’s not necessarily a story about Los Angeles as it exists. Instead, it’s a story about Los Angeles as we always imagine it. It’s the late 40s and, having vanquished the Nazis in Europe, men are returning to California and looking for a new life. Meanwhile, aspiring starlets from across the country flood into Hollywood, looking for stardom. It’s a city where glitz and ruin exist right next to each other. It’s the mean streets that were made famous by Raymond Chandler and, decades later, James Ellroy.

It’s a murder mystery, one that is based on one of the most notorious unsolved homicides of all time. The bisected body of woman named Lois Fazenda has been found in a vacant lot. When the newspapers discover that Lois was both a prostitute and a Catholic, she becomes known as “the Virgin Tramp.” One need not have an encyclopedic knowledge of unsolved crimes to recognize that Lois Fazneda is meant to be a stand-in for Elizabeth Short, the tragic and infamous Black Dahlia.

It’s a story about corruption. Crooked cops. Rich perverts. Greedy politicians. Sinful clergy. They’re all present and accounted for in True Confessions. As quickly becomes apparent, Los Angeles is a city where you can do anything as long as you have the money to pay the right people off.

And finally, it’s a film about two brothers. Tom and Des Spellacy grew up in a strong Irish Catholic family but, as they got older, their lives went in different directions. Tom (Robert Duvall) became a detective, the type who is willing to cut corners but who, in the end, takes his job seriously. Des (Robert De Niro) entered the priesthood and is now a monsignor in the Los Angeles diocese. Des is ambitious and he has a powerful mentor, Cardinal Danaher (Cyril Cusack).

Though Tom and Des have gone their separate ways, they are still linked by Jack Amsterdam (Charles During). To the public, Jack is a wealthy and respected businessman. However, Tom and Des both know the truth. When Tom first joined the department, he worked as a bagman for Jack and he knows that Jack made most of his money through a prostitution ring. Des know that Jack donates to the Church as way to cover up his own corruption but Des looks the other way. The Cardinal, after all, wants Jack’s money.

When Tom starts to investigate Lois’s death, it doesn’t take him long to figure out that Jack is probably the one responsible. Meanwhile, Jack and his lawyer (Ed Flanders) start to pressure Des to convince his brother to let the case go. Finding justice for Lois Fazneda could mean the end of both Tom and Des’s career.

Based on a novel by John Gregory Dunne, which was adapted into a screenplay by Dunne and Joan Didion, True Confessions is an imperfect but intriguing film. This is one of Robert Duvall’s best performances and he brings a manic edge to the role that keeps the audience off-balance. In the role of Jack Amsterdam, Charles Durning is the epitome of casual corruption and Burgess Meredith does a good job as an aging priest. On the other hand, Robert De Niro seems strangely uncomfortable in the role of Des and you never quite believe that he and Duvall are actually brothers. Director Ulu Grosbard does a good job of creating a proper noir atmosphere but, at the same time, he denies the audience the dramatic climax to which the film appears to be building up to.

That said, for whatever flaws True Confessions may have, it’s an always watchable and thought-provoking film.

Embracing The Melodrama Part III #6: The Betsy (dir by Daniel Petrie)

Posted on March 16, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“Wheeeeeeee!”

— Loren Hardeman Sr. (Sir Laurence Olivier) in The Betsy (1978)

Here’s a little thought experiment:

Imagine if The Godfather had starred Laurence Olivier and Tommy Lee Jones.

That may sound strange but it actually could have happened. When Francis Ford Coppola first started his search for the perfect actor to play Don Vito Corleone, he announced that he could only imagine two actors pulling off the role. One was Marlon Brando and the other was Laurence Olivier.

As for Tommy Lee Jones, he was among the many actors who auditioned for the role of Michael Corleone. At the time, Jones was 26 years old and had only recently made his film debut in Love Story. As odd as it may be to imagine the quintessentially Texan Tommy Lee Jones in the role, Coppola always said that he was looking for a brooder as Michael and that’s definitely a good description of Jones.

Of course, as we all know, neither Olivier nor Jones were ever cast in The Godfather. Marlon Brando played Don Vito and Al Pacino was cast as Michael. However, a few years later, Olivier and Jones would co-star in another family saga that combined history, organized crime, and melodrama. That film was 1978’s The Betsy and, interestingly enough, it even co-starred an actor who actually did appear in The Godfather, Robert Duvall.

Of course, now would probably be a good time to point out that The Godfather is perhaps the greatest American film of all time. And The Betsy … well, The Betsy most definitely is not.

The film’s German poster even gives off a Godfather vibe

Based on a novel by Harold Robbins, The Betsy exposes the secrets of Detroit. Decades ago, Loren Hardeman founded Hardeman Motors and started to build his considerable fortune. Sure, Loren had to break a few rules. He cut corners. He acted unethically. He had an affair with his daughter-in-law and then drove his gay son to suicide. Loren never said that he was perfect. Now in his 80s, Loren has a vision of the future and that vision is a new car. This car will be called the Betsy (named after his great-granddaughter) and it will be the most fuel-efficient car ever made.

Since the film appropriates the flashback structure used in The Godfather Part II, we get to see Loren Hardeman as both an elderly man and a middle-aged titan of industry. Elderly Loren is played by Laurence Olivier. Elderly Loren spends most of the film in a wheelchair and he speaks with a bizarre accent, one that I think was meant to be Southern despite the fact that the film takes place in Michigan. Elderly Loren gets really excited about building his new car and, at one point, shouts out “Wheeeeeee!”

Middle-aged Loren is played by … Laurence Olivier! That’s right. Olivier, who was 71 years old at the time, also plays Loren as a younger man. This means that Olivier wears a hairpiece and so much makeup that he looks a bit like a wax figure come to life. Strangely, Middle-aged Loren doesn’t have a strange accent and never says “wheeeee.”

To build his car, Loren recruits race car driver Angelo Perino (Tommy Lee Jones). Angelo’s father was an old friend of Loren’s. When Angelo agrees, he discovers that the Hardeman family is full of drama and secrets. Not only is great-granddaughter Betsy (Kathleen Beller) in love with him but so is Lady Bobby Ayers (Lesley-Anne Down), who is the mistress of Loren’s grandson, Loren the 3rd (Robert Duvall).

Because he blames his grandfather for the death of his father, Loren the 3rd has no intention of building Loren the 1st’s car. Loren the 3rd wants to continue to make cars that pollute the environment. “Over my dead boy!” Loren the 1st replies. “As you wish, grandfather,” Loren the 3rd replies with a smile.

But we’re not done yet! I haven’t even talked about the Mafia and the union organizers and the automotive journalist who ends up getting murdered. From the minute the movie starts, it’s nonstop drama. That said, most of the drama is so overdone that it’s actually more humorous than anything else. As soon as Laurence Olivier shouts out, “Wheeeee!,” The Betsy falls into the trap of self-parody and it never quite escapes. There’s a lot going on in the movie and one could imagine a more imaginative director turning the trashy script into a critique of capitalism and technology. However, Daniel Petrie directs in a style that basically seems to be saying, “Let’s just get this over with.”

The cast is full of interesting people, all of whom are let down by a superficial script. Nothing brings out the eccentricity in talented performers quicker than a line of shallow dialogue. Jane Alexander, who plays Duvall’s wife, delivers all of her lines in an arch, upper class accent. Edward Herrmann, playing a lawyer, smirks every time the camera is pointed at him. Katharine Ross, as Olivier’s mistress and Duvall’s mother, stares at Olivier like she’s trying to make his head explode. Tommy Lee Jones is even more laconic than usual while Duvall always seems to be struggling not to start laughing.

And then there’s Olivier. For better or worse, Olivier is the most entertaining thing about The Betsy. He doesn’t give a good performance but he does give a memorably weird one. Everything, from the incomprehensible accent to a few scenes where he literally seems to bounce up and down, suggests a great actor who is desperately trying to bring a spark of life to an otherwise doomed project. It’s a performance so strange that it simply has to be seen to be believed.

Tomorrow, we take a look at another melodrama featuring Robert Duvall, True Confessions!

Embracing The Melodrama Part III #5: Jacqueline Susann’s Once Is Not Enough (dir by Guy Green)

Posted on March 15, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“Only in the movies, baby.”

— Mike Wayne (Kirk Douglas) in Jacqueline Susann’s Once Is Not Enough (1975)

Jacqueline Susann’s Once Is Not Enough (for that indeed is the unwieldy title of this little movie) opens with a shot of two Oscars sitting on an end table. Those Oscars belong to Mike Wayne (Kirk Douglas), a legendary Hollywood producer who hasn’t had a hit in way too long. He’s struggling financially. He may even have to fire his maid (Lillian Randolph), despite the many years that she’s spent making sure he wakes up and remembers to take a shower before leaving the house. What choice does Mike have but to marry Deidre Milford Granger (Alexis Smith), the world’s sixth richest woman? Mike doesn’t even mind that Deidre is having an affair with Karla (Melina Mercouri).

That makes sense to everyone by Mike’s daughter, January (Deborah Raffin). As Mike explains it, January’s name came about as a result of January being born in January. So, I guess if I was Mike’s daughter, I would have been named November. Everyone in the film thinks that Mike’s being terribly clever by naming his daughter after her birthday but, to me, that just sounds lazy.

Does January have some issues? Well, when she returns to America after getting into a serious motorcycle accident in Europe, she greets her father by cheerfully saying, “I hope nobody thinks we’re father and daughter. I hope they think you’re a dirty old man and I’m your broad.”

Agck! That sounds like the set up for a Freudian nightmare but instead, the film’s rather blasé about the whole incestuous subtext of January’s relationship with her father. Mike is soon pushed to the side as the movie follows January as she tries to make a life for herself in New York City. Fortunately, she’s able to land a job at a magazine, working for her old college friend, Linda (Brenda Vacarro). In college, Linda was smart and homely but she has since had so much plastic surgery that January doesn’t even recognize her. Linda’s either found the greatest plastic surgeon in the world or else January is just really, really stupid.

Linda gets all the best lines. While talking about all of the work that she’s had done, she takes the time to brag that she had everything fixed by her navel, which she declares to be perfect. When January comments that Linda is beautiful, Linda replies, “And now ugly is in! I want my old nose back!”

Linda is stunned to learn that January is still a virgin but that problem is solved once January goes out on a few dates with David (George Hamilton), who is Deidre’s cousin. David and January go out to a club and January is shocked when a random woman throws a drink in David’s face. Later, January goes back to David’s apartment, which turns out to be the epitome of 70s tackiness. When January asks David why the carpet and all of the furniture is red, David replies, “I wanted it to look like a bordello.”

Things don’t really work out between January and David but don’t worry! January soon meets the world-renowned author, Chest Hair McGee (David Janssen)! Okay, actually his name is Tom Colt.

Tom spends almost the entire movie drunk and acting obnoxious but January falls in love with him. And, of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s the same age as her father. No, of course not. Instead, she’s charmed by the way he slurs the line, “Forgive me, I can’t take my eyes off of your ass!”

January is convinced that she and Tom are going to be together forever. Of course, Mike hates Tom. And there is the fact that Tom’s married. Literally everyone in the movie tells January that Tom is never going to leave his wife but I guess we’re still supposed to be shocked when Tom tells her that he’ll never leave his wife. He does, however, thank her for allowing “a broken-down old man” to “feel like a stud.” In the end, nothing really works out for January but she’s such an annoying and vacuous character that you really don’t mind.

Based on a novel by the same author who gave the world The Valley of the Dolls, Once Is Not Enough is a movie that manages to be both remarkably bad and also surprisingly watchable. Some of that is because the film is a time capsule of 70s fashion, 70s decor, and 70s slang. A lot more of it is because the cast is made up of such an odd mishmash of performers and acting styles that nobody seems like they should be in the same movie. Kirk Douglas grimaces. George Hamilton looks embarrassed. David Janssen lurches through the film like a drunk trying to remember where he lives. Alexis Smith and Melina Mercouri chew every piece of scenery they can find while Brenda Vaccaro shouts her lines as if hoping the increased volume will keep us from noticing what she’s actually saying. Poor Deborah Raffin wanders through the film with a dazed look on her face. Can you blame her?

Interestingly enough, Jacqueline Susann’s Once Is Not Enough actually was nominated for an Oscar. Brenda Vaccaro was nominated for Best Supporting Actress. Admittedly, Vaccaro does probably come the closest of anyone in the cast to creating an interesting character but I still have to wonder just how weak the Supporting Actress field was in 1975.

Anyway, this incredibly silly and tacky film is a lot of fun, though perhaps not in the way that it was originally intended to be. Between the nonstop drama, the unintentionally hilarious dialogue, and the weird performances, the film plays out like a cartoon character’s dream of the 70s.

Tomorrow, we’ll take a look at another silly and tacky film from the same decade, 1978’s The Betsy!

Embracing the Melodrama Part III #4: The Grasshopper (dir by Jerry Paris)

Posted on March 14, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“It’s very simple what I want to be: totally happy; totally different; and totally in love.”

— Christine Adams (Jacqueline Bisset) in The Grasshopper (1970)

Seriously, is Christine asking for too much?

Total happiness? That may sound like a lot but trust me, it can be done.

Totally different? That’s a little bit more challenging because, to be honest, you’re either different or you’re not. If you have to make the effort to be different, then you definitely are not.

Totally in love? Well, it depends on how you define love…

At the start of The Grasshopper, Christine thinks that she’s heading to America to find love. While an oh-so late 60s/early 70s theme song plays in the background, Christine leaves her small hometown in Canada and she heads down to California. She’s planning on meeting up with her boyfriend Eddie (Tim O’Kelly) and taking a job as a bank teller.

Of course, it soon turns out that working in a bank isn’t as exciting as Christine originally assumed. Eddie expects Christine to just be a conventional girlfriend and that’s not what Christine is looking for. As well, it’s possible that Christine may have seen Targets, in which O’Kelly played an all-American boy who picks up a rifle and goes on a killing spree.

And so, Christine abandons Eddie and heads to Las Vegas. Since this movie was made in 1970 and Uber didn’t exist back then, Christine’s preferred method of traveling is hitchhiking. This gives her a chance to meet the usual collection of late 60s weirdos who always populate movies like this. One driver crosses herself when Christine says that she plans to have a baby before getting married. Another is a hacky Las Vegas comic.

In Vegas, Christine applies for a job as a showgirl. As she explains to sleazy casino owner Jack Benton (Ed Flanders), she “once did Little Women in school.”

“Did you do it nude?” Jack replies.

Yep, that’s Vegas for you! It’s the city of Showgirls, Casino, and Saved By The Bell: Wedding in Vegas, after all!

Anyway, thing do get better once Christine meets and falls in love with Tommy Marcott (Jim Brown), a former football player who is now working as a door greeter in Jack’s casino. Everyone tells Christine not to get involved with Tommy. One of Jack’s men, a menacing hitman who looks just like Johnny from Night of the Living Death (he even wears glasses), warns Christine to watch herself.

Through a long series of events, Christine ends up on her own again. The usual collection of 70s events occur: murder, drugs, prostitution, and ultimately a stint as the mistress of a rich man played by Joseph Cotten. The important thing is that it all eventually leads to Christine and a skywriter getting stoned, stealing a plane, and deciding to write a message in the sky.

That’s when this happens:

Yes, it’s all very 1970!

Anyway, The Grasshopper is one of those films that tries to have it both ways. Establishment audiences could watch it and think, “Wow, those kids are really messed up.” Counterculture audiences could watch it and say, “Old people are such hypocrites.” Oddly enough, The Grasshopper was written by future director Garry Marshall and it’s an incredibly overwrought film. There’s not a subtle moment to be found in the entire film and the film’s direction is flashy but empty. However, for those of us who love history, it’s as close to 1970 as we’re going to get without hopping into a time machine.

Embracing the Melodrama Part III #3: More (dir by Barbet Schroeder)

Posted on March 13, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

More is such a film of the 60s that you can almost get a contact high from watching it.

It’s not just that the film was released in 1969. After all, there were a lot of films released in 1969 that don’t, in any way, feel like they belong in the 60s. (Just consider two of 1969’s Best Picture nominees, Anne of the Thousand Days and Hello, Dolly.) However, More is a film that seems to include every single thing that we think of when we think about the late 60s.

Drugs? Check.

Hitchhiking? Check.

Petty crime? Check.

Ennui? Check.

Weirdly out-of-place political bullshit? Check.

A fatalistic ending that suggests that nothing really matters? Check and double check.

More tells the story of a young German named Stefan (Klaus Grunberg). Stefan has just wrapped up his mathematics studies and now, he’s intent on exploring Europe and experiencing life! The first time we see Stefan, he’s hitchhiking and not having much luck. No one really wants to pick up Stefan and I really can’t blame them. Stefan is an incredibly boring character and Grunberg gives a remarkably dull performance in the lead role. Unfortunately, Stefan also narrates his story. I usually don’t like narrators in general but they especially get on my nerves whenever they appear in a movie that was made between 1966 and 1970.

Anyway, Stefan finally finds himself in Paris. He befriends Charlie (Michel Chanderil), who is a petty thief and who takes the naive Stefan under his wing. The movie picks up a bit whenever Charlie is on screen, largely because Chanderil has more screen presence than Grunberg. As I watched Charlie teach Stefan how to steal, I found myself wishing that the whole film could have been about Charlie.

But no. We’re stuck with boring old Stefan. Stefan eventually meets an American girl named Estelle (Mismy Farmer). Now, if Stefan was a fan of Godard, he would undoubtedly have seen Breathless and he would know better than to run off with an American girl. But, because Stefan is a dullard, he instead decides that he loves Estelle. When Estelle heads off for Ibiza, Stefan follows.

In Ibiza, Estelle is living with an enigmatic German named Dr. Wolf (Heinz Engelmann). Dr. Wolf is a former (and, it’s implied, current) Nazi. Stefan wins her away from Dr. Wolf. Stefan thinks that he’s rescuing her but Estelle really doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. Estelle introduces Stefan to the world of drugs and Stefan is soon hooked on heroin.

And it just goes on from there.

More probably could have probably been a really good film if Stefan wasn’t such a dull protagonist or if Grunberg had been in the least bit compelling in the lead role. From the minute I first saw him hitchhiking, my reaction was, “I do not care about this person” and that was pretty much the way I felt throughout the entire film.

The film does have its good points. The cinematographer was Nestor Almendros so Ibiza looks amazing and Pink Floyd provides an appropriately moody score. Mimsy Farmer, an American actress who later appeared in some of the best gialli to come out of Italy, is perfectly cast as the self-centered and casually destructive Estelle. But all the good points can’t make up for the film’s slow pace and Grunberg’s charisma-free performance.

More is probably best viewed as a cultural artifact. I’m a history nerd and I’m always fascinated by films like More that, regardless of their overall quality, are such obvious works of their time. More may reek of stale weed but watching it is definitely a chance to experience the 60s.

Embracing The Melodrama Part III #2: Common Law Wife (dir by Eric Sayers and Larry Buchanan)

Posted on March 12, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Serenity, Texas!

Serenity is the setting for the 1963 film, Common Law Wife. It’s a small country town, one with a modest downtown and a quaintly innocent feel to it. As soon as the movie started, I recognized Serenity and that’s not just because I’m a Texan. No, I recognized it because Common Law Wife was filmed in Forney, Texas. Forney is known as being the “antique capital of Texas” and apparently, it hasn’t changed much over the past 55 years. I always like seeing old films that were made locally, even if they’re held in as little regard as Common Law Wife.

Just as small Texas towns rarely ever changed, the same can be said for the way that exploitation and grindhouse films were advertised. Just look at the poster at the top of this review. Judging from the poster, you would think that this film is not only dealing with the most important issue ever but that it’s also a realistic look at what it means to be a common law wife.

“You don’t have to say ‘I DO’ to be married!” the poster shouts, “Do you know the law in your state? Are you a common law wife? If you’re not old enough for marriage, you should not see this movie.”

On top of that, we’ve got the scales of justice and a key for a room at the State Line Motel. Nothing good ever happens at a State Line Motel!

Of course, the film itself has very little to do with anything to be found on the poster. Don’t get me wrong. There is a common law marriage in the film. Rich, old Shugfoot Rainey (George Edgley) has lived with Linda (Anabelle Weenick) for so long that they are now legally considered to be married. Linda and Shug have the type of relationship where Shug keeps himself entertained by throwing darts at Linda’s head. However, Shug now wants Linda to move out of his house. His niece, a stripper named Baby Doll (Lacey Kelly) is moving from New Orleans to Serenity and she’s going to need a place to live. Shug wants Baby Doll. Baby Doll wants Shug’s money. Unfortunately, for her, Linda also wants Shug’s money.

While Shug tries to get Linda to move out, Baby Doll gets to know all of the other men in Serenity. Fortunately, there aren’t many of them. There’s the sheriff and then there’s a moonshiner. It turns out that Shug loves his moonshine so what better way to get rid of him than to serve him some poisoned moonshine? Shug is just dumb enough to fall for Baby Doll’s act but not Linda. It all leads to an appropriately fatalistic ending.

As in the case of many grindhouse film, the story behind Common Law Wife is more interesting than the story that appears on screen. In 1960, the notorious Texas-based director Larry Buchanan started to work on a film called Swamp Rose. For whatever reason, Swamp Rose was abandoned but, three years later, a director named Eric Sayers shot some additional footage and mashed it to together with Buchanan’s footage. The end result was Common Law Wife. The majority of the footage is taken from Swamp Rose but all of the dialogue was overdubbed to change Swamp Rose‘s plot. Whereas the Sayers footage is bleak and harshly lit, the Swamp Rose footage is notably grainy. Obviously, it makes for a disjointed viewing viewing experience, though it’s really not as disjointed as any other movie that Buchanan was involved with over the course of his long career.

Common Law Wife is currently available of YouTube. Even by the standards of Larry Buchanan, it’s definitely a lesser film but if you’re a fan of grindhouse and exploitation films — especially ones that have a hillbilly feel to them — you might get a laugh or two from it.

Tomorrow, we continue to embrace the melodrama with the 1968 drug epic, More!

Embracing the Melodrama Part III #1: No Down Payment (dir by Martin Ritt)

Posted on March 11, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Back in 2014 and 2015, I did a series of reviews that I called Embracing the Melodrama, in which I reviewed some of the best (and worst) melodramas ever made. All together, I reviewed 186 films as a part of Embracing the Melodrama, everything from Sunrise to Reefer Madness to The Towering Inferno to Cocaine: One Man’s Seduction. I had so much fun doing it that I’ve decided to do it again.

No, don’t worry. I’m not going to attempt to review 186 films this time. Instead, for Embracing The Melodrama Part III, I am going to limit myself to reviewing 8 films. I’ll be posting one Embracing the Melodrama review a day, from now until next Sunday.

Let’s kick things off with 1957’s No Down Payment, a film about life in … THE SUBURBS!

(cue dramatic music)

The suburbs!

Is there any place in America that’s more dramatic? Is it any wonder that, since the early 50s, films have regularly been using the suburbs as an example of everything that’s apparently wrong with America? Every year sees at least one major film about how terrible life is in the suburbs. Last year, for instance, George Clooney directed a film called Suburbicon, which was regularly cited as a possible Oscar contender before it was released and everyone was reminded of the fact that George Clooney is a terrible director. That said, I can understand why filmmakers continue to be drawn to the suburbs. Secret affairs. Dangerous drugs. Duplicitous children. Fractured families. Barbecuing alcoholics. Undercover occultists. You can find them all in the suburbs!

No Down Payment opens with David (Jeffrey Hunter) and Jean Martin (Patricia Owens) driving down a California highway and looking at the billboards that dot the landscape. Every billboard advertises a new community, inviting people to make a new and better life away from the crowded city. David and Jean smile, amused by how blatant all of the ads are. That’s when they see the billboard that’s advertising their new home:

Sunrise Hill Estates

A Better Place For Better Living

Soon, David and Jean are moving into their new home and meeting their new neighbors. It turns out that most of the houses in Sunrise Hill Estates are available for “no down payment” and the majority of the residents are struggling financially. Though David may look at all of his neighbors and say, “Looks like everybody here is living a wonderful life,” the truth is something far different.

(If David’s line sound a bit too on the nose and obvious, that’s because almost all of the dialogue in No Down Payment was too on the nose and obvious. As a side note, “on the nose” is an extremely strange expression.)

David’s neighbors include:

Herm Kreitzer (Pat Hingle) and his wife, Betty (Barbara Rush). Herm owns an appliance store and sits on the town council. Herm is gruff but likable. He’s the leader of his neighborhood and he welcomes the Martins with a backyard party. Herm’s employee, Iko (Aki Aleong), wants to move to Sunrise Hill but no one is willing to give him a reference because he’s not white.

Troy Boone (Cameron Mitchell) and his wife, Leola (Joanne Woodward). We know that Troy is going to be trouble because he’s played by Cameron Mitchell. We know that we’re going to like Leola because she’s played by Joanne Woodward. Troy’s an auto mechanic and a veteran. He wants to be appointed the chief of police but the town is reluctant to hire him because he doesn’t have a college education. Leola wants to have a child but Troy says that they can’t even think about that until he has a good job.

And then there’s Jerry Flagg (Tony Randall) and his wife, Isabelle (Sheree North). Jerry is a used car salesman and he’s also a drunk. Jerry spends most of the movie hitting on other women and embarrassing Isabelle. Jerry has no impulse control and, as a result, he’s heavily in debt. His only hope is that he can convince a family to buy an expensive car that they really don’t need. When last I checked, that’s what a used car salesman is supposed to do.

The film deals with a lot of issues — prejudice, sexism, economic insecurity — that are still relevant today. Unfortunately, the film itself is a bit slow and what was shocking in the 50s seems rather jejune today. Watching the film, you get the feeling that, as with many films of the 50s, all of the interesting stuff is happening off-screen. That said, the film has an interesting cast. Jeffrey Hunter and Patricia Owens are a bit dull as the Martins but then you’ve got their neighbors! Any film that features Cameron Mitchell glowering can’t be all bad but the best performance comes from Tony Randall, who is memorably sleazy and desperate as Jerry Flagg. For a fun experiment, watch this film right before watching Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?

Tomorrow, we’ll continue to embrace the melodrama with 1961’s Common Law Wife!

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #126: Veronika Decides To Die (dir by Emily Young)

Posted on June 16, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Well, here we are!

It’s been 9 weeks since we originally embarked on this journey that I called Embracing The Melodrama Part II. At that time, my plan was to do 126 reviews in just three weeks. It didn’t quite work out that way, did it? But still, I had fun doing this series of reviews and I hope that you’ve had at least a little fun reading them. If I’ve inspired you take a chance on any of the films that I’ve reviewed — whether it be Sunrise or An American Hippie In Israel or Cocaine: One Man’s Seduction or Calvary — then this has all been worth it!

So, for my final review in this series, I want to take a quick look at one of the most melodramatic films to be released this year so far, Veronika Decides To Die.

Veronika Decides To Die finally got an American release in 2015, six years after it initially premiered on the festival circuit. Years before it was available here in the States, Veronika played in Europe. Not surprisingly, the American release felt much like an afterthought, one final attempt to make a little money off the film before moving on. It’s spent about a week in theaters and two months later, it is now showing up on cable and Netflix. And while Veronika didn’t get many reviews, the few that it did get were rather dismissive.

But you know what?

I like Veronika Decides To Die.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not a great film. In many ways, it’s a very silly film. The entire plot hinges on a character doing something that makes no sense. Frustrated with her life as an anonymous and lonely office worker, Veronika (Sarah Michelle Gellar) attempts to commit suicide. She survives the suicide attempt and, upon waking in a mental hospital, she’s told by a mysterious psychologist (David Thewlis) that, as a result of her attempt, she now has a heart condition that will kill her in a matter of weeks. And what does Veronika decide to do after learning that she’s going to die? She voluntarily remains in the mental hospital and goes to sessions of group therapy!

And you never really believe that Veronika would do that. But, if you can bring yourself to accept that one implausibility — well, you’ll soon be confronted by a lot of other implausibilities. You’ll meet Veronika’s glassy-eyed roommate (Erika Christensen) and a mysterious older patient (Melissa Leo). You’ll also meet Edward (Jonathan Tuker), who is mute but has such a sexy stare that he really doesn’t need to speak. And as Veronika gets to know her fellow patients, she starts to come to terms with her own issues of anger and regret and she realize that importance of embracing life and doing what you love.

Of course, that’s a little hard to do when you’re in a mental hospital. Luckily, there’s a piano that Veronika can play while Edward silently watches her. If you’re guessing that this eventually leads to Veronika sitting naked at the piano and masturbating in front of Edward, well, you’re right…

Listen, Veronika Decides To Die is one of those films that takes itself way too seriously and it ends with a plot twist that you’ll see coming from a thousand miles away. I can understand why the film’s release was delayed because the film’s tone is all over the place.

But, dammit, I liked Veronika Decides To Die!

When taken on its own defiantly melodramatic terms, it works. That’s largely because Sarah Michelle Gellar really commits herself to the role. You forget that you’re watching Buffy. Instead, Gellar truly becomes Veronika, this tragically sad and lonely young woman who finds inner peace by masturbating at a piano. Veronika Decides To Die is a movie that really shouldn’t work but Sarah Michelle Gellar saves it. When the film starts, she beautifully captures Veronika’s lonely desperation, her feelings of isolation and worthlessness. (I don’t care who you are, we’ve all felt like Veronika at some point in our life.) As the film progresses, she portrays both Veronika’s anger and her growing appreciation of life. She has a nice chemistry with Jonathan Tucker and, in the end, Sarah Michelle Gellar probably gives a better performance than the material really deserves.

Of course, another reason that Veronika Decides To Die works is because it is so silly and melodramatic. This is one of those films that goes so far over-the-top that it creates an almost heightened sense of reality. It becomes, almost despite itself, compulsively watchable.

It’s also the perfect film with which to complete Embracing the Melodrama Part II. I hope y’all have enjoyed reading these 126 reviews because I’ve certainly enjoyed writing them! To everyone who has read these reviews and clicked on the “like” button and occasionally left a comment or two, thank you so much! Love you! However much effort or work it may take, all of you make it worth it.

And now I’m going to go pass out for a little while…

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #125: Spring (dir by Justin Benson and Aaron Moorehead)

Posted on June 16, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

When was the last time that a film truly took your be surprise?

Well, regardless of what you may think of the film overall, Spring will take you by surprise. The film takes two different genres — talky romance and body horror — and mashes them together. It’s the sort of thing that shouldn’t work and, yet, it somehow does. If Richard Linklater and David Cronenberg spliced their DNA, the result would be Spring.

Spring opens in Los Angeles, with Evan (Lou Taylor Pucci) sitting at the bedside of his cancer-stricken mother and watching her die. After the funeral, Evan is drinking at a bar when a drunk and obnoxious toadsucker picks a fight with him. Though Evan, at first, tries to avoid the confrontation, he eventually ends up punching the man. (Evan spends the majority of the film trying to avoid confrontation. He’s actually a genuinely likable character and when was the last time you saw that in a film?) With the man now looking to kill him and the police possibly interested in pressing assault charges, the distraught Evan impulsively decides to take a trip to Italy.

He spends a while wandering around Italy. He hangs out with obnoxious and continually drunk tourists, the type who will be familiar to anyone who has ever spent the summer after high school graduation in Europe. And, eventually, he ends up in a beautiful Italian village, where he meets the mysterious Louise (Nadia Hilker).

Louise is a researcher and, at first, it would seem like she and Evan have little in common. (She’s an intellectual. Evan, cute as he is, most definitely is not.) But, over the course of a week, they get to know each other and Evan starts to fall in love with Louise. These scenes are full of nonstop conversation, covering topics of culture, history, and philosophy. It’s an obvious homage to Richard Linklater’s films with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy and it works perfectly. Both Pucci and Hilker are likable performers and they have a lot of chemistry.

However, there’s another story unfolding. At night, a strange creature roams the city, eating stray animals and eventually killing one of the most obnoxious American tourists to ever appear in a film. How do these two stories connect?

Well, I’m not going to tell you. You need to see the movie for yourself.

To be honest, when I started this review, I thought I was going to be a lot more critical of Spring. As often happens with ambitious but low-budget indie films, there are a few scenes where the pacing is off and, once the solution to the film’s big mystery has been revealed, the explanation goes on for a bit too long. I appreciate the filmmakers attempt to make everything plausible but, sometimes, it’s better to just gloss over the exact details.

But you know what?

As I sit here writing this review, I realize that those criticisms may be valid but, in the big picture, they don’t really matter. So what if the film has flaws? All films have flaws! Spring tells a unique and interesting story and it will take you by surprise. Plus, it captures the romance of Italy! So, instead of getting all nitpicky, I’m just going to recommend that you see the film.