Retro Television Reviews: The Feminist and the Fuzz (dir by Jerry Paris)

Posted on April 23, 2023 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Sundays, I will be reviewing the made-for-television movies that used to be a primetime mainstay. Today’s film is 1971’s The Feminist and The Fuzz! It can be viewed on YouTube!

At first glance, Jane Bowers (Barbara Eden) and Jerry Frazer (David Hartman) don’t have much in common.

Jerry is a cop, though he’s attending night school with the hope of someday becoming a lawyer. Jerry is an old-fashioned law and order man. He expects the law to be followed. He’s also the type who definitely believes that there are clear differences between men and women. As he explains it, there are some thing that men are just better at. Jerry is dating Kitty (Farrah Fawcett), who works as a waitress at the local Playboy Club.

Dr. Jane Bowers is a pediatrician and a proud feminist, one who takes it personally when a cop like Jerry refuses to give her a parking ticket just because she’s a woman. She wants to be treated as an equal in all matters. She’s dating Wyatt Foley (Herb Edelman), an attorney who still lives with his mother and who constantly goes out of his way to let everyone know that he’s an ally. Jane’s best friend is Dr. Debby Inglefinger (Jo Anne Worley), who has decided that it’s time to lead a protest at the Playboy Club.

The only thing that Jerry and Jane have in common is that they both desperately need an apartment but apparently, apartments were not easy to find in San Francisco in the early 70s. Fortunately, a hippie (Howard Hesseman) has just been evicted from his apartment because the landlord (John McGiver) didn’t like the fact that he was constantly having overnight guests. Jane and Jerry both end up at the apartment at the same time, with Jane getting offended by Jerry’s refusal to give her a traffic ticket. (Jerry makes the mistake of saying that he’s going to let her off “with a warning.” He wouldn’t give a warning to a man! Seriously, though, who in their right mind would actually demand a ticket? Those things cost money.) Even though they take an instant dislike to each other, Jane and Jerry still decide to pretend to be husband and wife so that they can rent the apartment together. With their busy schedules, they figure that they’ll never have to see each other. They won’t even know the other is around.

Of course, it doesn’t work out like that. Jane allows Debby to hold a consciousness raising meeting at the apartment. (Future director Penny Marshall appears as a participant.) Meanwhile, Jerry lets a prostitute (Julie Newmar) stay at the apartment, just to keep her off of the streets for the night. The landlord is getting suspicious. So, for that matter, is Jane’s father (Harry Morgan). And, as you probably already guessed, Jerry and Jane are falling in love.

With its hippies and its militant feminists and its jokes about the Playboy Club, The Feminist and the Fuzz is a film that practically yells, “1971!” Unfortunately, script’s attempt to turn the film’s rather predictable plot into a Neil Simon-style jokefest never quite works. The “humorous” dialogue feels forced and the film’s 75-minute run time doesn’t do it any favors, as we never really have the time to get to know Jerry or Jane as human beings. Instead, they just remain “The Fuzz” and “The Feminist.” As a result, it’s not that easy to care about whether or not they actually get together. Some of the supporting performances are amusing. Barbara Eden manages to avoid turning Jane into a caricature of a humorless activist but poor David Hartman is stiff as a board and in no way convincing as a veteran cop.

The main thing I took away from this movie is that the Playboy Clubs were exceptionally tacky. Way back in 2011, NBC actually tried to air a drama series that took place at a Playboy Club in the 60s. (This was when every network was trying to come up with the next Mad Men.) The pilot started with creepy old Hugh Hefner assuring the viewers that, “Everybody who was anybody wanted to be a member of the club.” I mean, seriously? What a strange world.

Retro Television Reviews: The Brady Bunch Hour 1.2

Posted on January 27, 2023 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a new feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Fridays, I will be reviewing The Brady Bunch Hour, which ran on ABC from 1976 to 1977. All nine episodes can be found on YouTube!

Following the rating success of the pilot for the Brady Bunch Variety Hour, ABC decided to bite the bullet and the Bradys returned to the airwaves!

*Deep sigh*

Okay, let’s do this….

Episode 1.2

(Originally aired on January 23, 1977, Dir by Jack Regas)

I’ve discovered that the dancers who performed on each episode of The Brady Bunch Hour were known as the Kroftettes. (The show as produced by Sid and Marty Kroft and there is definitely nothing creepy about naming your performers after yourself.) The second episode of the Brady Bunch Hour opened with the Kroftettes dressed in red, white, and blue and carrying small drums. It would be a perfect look for the 4th of July but this episode aired in January.

The dancers eventually move off stage and the audience goes crazy as the announcer informs them that tonight’s episode not only stars the Bradys but also Lee Majors, Farrah Fawcett-Majors, Rip Taylor, Ann B. Davis, and …. Kaptian Kool and the Kong! Well, who wouldn’t be excited by the Kong? The Kong was apparently a musical group. With a name like that, you would hope they would at least have the decency to dress up like gorillas but instead, they appear to have just been a typical 70s prog rock outfit.

The Bradys come out on stage and start awkwardly singing a rock version of Yankee Doodle Dandy. The YouTube screenshot below isn’t the best but I think it gives you some idea of what this performance is like:

“Yankee Doodle …. Keep it up!” the family chants as the Kroftettes splash about in the pool. The audience loves it.

With the song completed, the Brady Bunch introduce themselves. Greg spends too long talking about himself and is sharply reprimanded by Carol. Cindy explains that it is now 1977. Thanks, Cindy! Fake Jan smiles and tries not to cry as she jokes around with her new family. Mike Brady explains that the Bunch has a new house. “We have a terrific new show!” Mike says. Sure you do, Mike. Carol explains that the show will only be airing once a month. “We’re only a few minutes in and we’ve already been canceled!?” Mike says.

After a reprise of Yankee Doodle Dandy, the show mercifully breaks for commercial. When the show returns, the Bradys are stepping into their new home and discovering that they have no furniture! The movers ran off with it! Luckily, Alice the Maid randomly shows up with a bunch of sleeping bags.

“Well, Mike,” Carol says, “what do we do now?”

“The only thing we can do,” Mike replies, “is hit the sack.”

Every member of the Bunch hits their sleeping bag. 9 minutes in and this show is already giving me a migraine.

Fortunately, the moving man shows up. Unfortunately, the moving man is played by a very 70s comedian named Rip Taylor.

Rip Taylor is playing Mr, Merrill. Merrill refuses to take any blame for being late with the furniture. Carol suggests that Mr. Merrill come back tomorrow. Do they want their furniture or not? Well, it really doesn’t matter because it turns out that Mr. Merrill has some other family’s furniture in his truck and the Brady furniture is still missing. Mr. Merrill promises to have their furniture tomorrow. “Let’s hit the sack,” Mike says and everyone hits their sleep bag and ….. ARRRRRRRGHHHHH!

Where was I?

Anyway, the Bradys then sing Razzle Dazzle from Chicago, with all the skill of a small town community theater chorus.

Back at the Brady House, Alice scolds Marcia for hoarding all of her dolls. Alice tells her that everyone is having to give things up. Uhmmm …. they’re just dolls, Alice. And really, why is Alice giving Marcia orders? Marcia imagines Alice as the Wicked Witch of the West and then imagines herself as Dorothy and performing Car Wash with her brothers and Rip Taylor …. wait, what? Just watch for yourself.

Hey, who doesn’t love cocaine?

Fake Jan and Peter appear and explain that the Bradys eventually got their furniture. “Look at what happened!” Peter says. We cut to the family watching Mike hang an ugly painting over the fireplace. Mike orders everyone to go to bed at 8 pm. Greg objects and Mike threatens to kill him.

Alice explains that Mike wants the kids to go to bed so that he and Carol can make love in the living room. No sooner have the children (and the maid) left than Rip Taylor shows up again and explains that he’s also the Bunch’s landlord. He says that a lovely couple is going to be staying with the Bradys over the weekend. Enter Lee Majors and Farrah Fawcett! Lee is not amused to discover that Rip Taylor has double-booked the house. “Don’t hit me, you bionic bully!” Rip Taylor shouts. When Lee explains that his other house is being fumigated, Carol says that Lee and Farrah are “welcome to stay here with us.” RUN, LEE AND FARRAH! RUN!

After a commercial break, Carol welcomes the audience back to the second half of the show. Oh my God, there’s another 30 minutes of this? “I like that we can show you the way we really are at home,” Carol says.

Back at home, the Brady kids are getting their breakfast and are stunned to discover Lee Majors and Farrah Fawcett asleep on the living room couches. (Yes, they have separate couches.) When Farrah and Lee wake up, Greg awkwardly asks for an autograph. “I don’t carry a pen in my pajamas,” Lee explains. Alice comes in and is struck speechless.

Cut to Marcia, explaining that “one of the great things about having our own show is that we get to showcase the individual talents of our family.” Marcia introduced Fake Jan, who performs Your Song. It’s the highlight of the episode because Geri Reischl, not being an original Brady, can actually sing.

Fake Jan is followed by Carol who sings Send In The Clowns, which is the type of song that is perfectly designed to bring out the worst tendencies in even the most talented of singers. That certainly happens to Florence Henderson, who has a great voice but who also totally overdoes the bathos in her performance.

Greg catches Peter flirting with a Kroftette. Greg shoves Peter in the pool. Kaptain Kool and the Kong come out and perform a song called Names. It’s not a bad song but I have to admit that I’m more worried about the possibility of Peter breaking his neck the next time his older brother throws him in the pool without warning.

It’s time for the finale and Mike asks Carol why the stage is decorated with hearts. “It’s not Valentine’s Day,” Mike says, as if he and his family didn’t open this show by celebrating Independence Day in January. Carol explains that the theme of the finale is “Young and Old.” “Young and Old hearts?” Mike asks. DAMMIT, MIKE, JUST SHUT UP AND SING!

Anyway, much as with the Wizard of Oz/Car Wash thing, this is one of those things that can’t really be described. But it can be watched:

And then, thank God, it ends!

A huge flaw with this show is that the Bradys keep telling us how much they love being a family but we know they’re not a family. We know this because they brought in a substitute Jan. As such, the sentimental moments fall flat. “We’re so proud of our sister,” the kids say before Jan comes out to sing but seriously, we know that’s not Jan. I would much rather listen to Geri Reischl sing than any other member of the Bunch but it doesn’t change the fact that we know that’s not their sister.

Another flaw is that there’s not really any point to the show, other than the Bradys have somehow managed to get their own variety show. The whole thing with Lee Majors and Farrah Fawcett is perfect example of this show’s approach to storytelling. Lee and Farrah show up at the house unannounced but it’s fine because the Bradys live in a world with zero conflict. Lee and Farrah show up. The kids are shocked. Alice is shocked. And …. well, that’s it! So much for that plotline.

Oh well. Only 7 episodes left!

Robot In Lust: Saturn 3 (1980, directed by Stanley Donen)

Posted on October 9, 2019 by Jedadiah Leland

The time is the future and Earth is so polluted and overcrowded that the survival of humanity is dependent on space stations that are located across the galaxy. On one of the moons of Saturn, Adam (Kirk Douglas) and Alex (Farrah Fawcett) are researching and developing new ways to grow food. Alex is young and has never experienced life on Earth. Adam is in his 60s and says that Earth is the worst place in the universe. Alex and Adam are not just colleagues but lovers as well. Inside the tranquil facility, Adam, Alex, and Sally the Dog live a lifestyle that feels more like late 70s California than 21st century Saturn.

Adam is disturbed when a cargo ship arrives. The ship is piloted by Captain James (Harvey Keitel, giving the film’s only interesting performance despite having had all of his dialogue dubbed by Roy Dotrice), who immediately takes an unwelcome interest in Alex. (“You have a great body,” he says, “May I use it?”) Captain James starts telling Alex stories about life back on Earth and encouraging her to abandon Adam. Captain James also reveals that he’s accompanied by an 8-foot robot named Hector. Hector is designed to replace one of the scientists.

If that’s not bad enough, it also turns out that Captain James is not really Captain James but instead, he’s Captain Benson. Benson was originally assigned to fly the cargo ship but, after a psychological profile deemed him to be psychotic, Benson was replaced by James. So, Benson killed James by pushing him out of an airlock. Now, Benson is on Saturn 3 and he’s uploaded both his homicidal impulses and his lust for Alex into Hector’s programming. Soon, Hector is rampaging through the facility, determined to have Alex for himself.

For an ultimately forgettable film that plays like an Alien rip-off (even though the two films were actually shot at the same time), Saturn 3 has long been infamous for its troubled production. Martin Amis, who wrote an early draft of the script, even wrote a novel, Money, based on the filming of Saturn 3. (In the novel, Kirk Douglas is renamed Lorne Guyland and insists on getting naked as much as possible in order to prove that he’s still virile.) The film was originally meant to be the directorial debut of John Barry, the famed British production designer. However, Barry departed the film after two weeks, with reports differing on whether he left voluntarily or if he was fired. The film’s producer, Stanley Donen, took over as director. Stanley Donen, who also directed legitimate classics like Singin’ In The Rain, Charade, and Two For The Road, confessed to having no affinity for science fiction and it’s obvious from watching his one foray into the genre that he was not exaggerating.

The idea behind Saturn 3, with Hector taking on the personality of it creator, is an intriguing one but the film doesn’t do much with it and the film’s choppy pace indicates that there was extensive executive tinkering both during and after filming. Harvey Keitel is convincingly strange in his role but Farrah Fawcett is miscast as a scientist and Kirk Douglas does his usual grin and grimace routine, usually while naked. (It doesn’t seem that Martin Amis had to stretch the truth too far.) The 8-foot Hector looks impressive until he actually has to chase Fawcett through the facility. That’s when it becomes obvious that anyone with two functioning legs could easily outrun the lumbering robot.

In space, no one can hear you scream. But they might hear you laughing at Saturn 3.

A Movie A Day #6: The Cannonball Run (1981, directed by Hal Needham)

Posted on January 6, 2017 by Jedadiah Leland

A legendary Hollywood stuntman, Hal Needham moved into directing in the 1970s and proved that all he required to make a successful film were willing stuntmen, fast cars, Coors beer, and Burt Reynolds. Following that logic, The Cannonball Run may very well be the ultimate Hal Needham movie.

The Cannonball Run follows several teams of racers as they compete to see who can be the first to reach California from Connecticut. Trying to stop them is Arthur J. Foyt (George Furth), who represents the Safety Enforcement Unit and who believes that cars are a menace. However, Foyt is no match for these racers, who include:

J.J. (Burt Reynolds), who is racing in memory of his father, and his mechanic Victor (Dom DeLuise), who turns into Captain Choas whenever he is feeling threatened. J.J. and Victor are driving an ambulance and are accompanied by crazy Dr. Van Helsing (Jack Elam) and a fake “patient” (Farrah Fawcett),
Bradford Compton (Bert Convy) who is riding a motorcycle and who, because of the weight of his mechanic, has to pop a wheelie for the entire race,
An Arab oil sheik (Jamie Farr) who is racing for “the glory of Islam” and who would probably not be in the movie if it were made today,
Sidney Goldfarb (Roger Moore), the heir to a mattress fortune who has had extensive plastic surgery to make himself look like Roger Moore,
Jackie Chan and Michael Hui, called “The Japanese team” even though they both speak Cantonese throughout the entire movie,
Terry Bradsahw and Mel Tillis because why the Hell not?,
Marcie (Adrienne Barbeau) and Jill (Tara Buckman), using their cleavage to get out of speeding tickets, or at least they do until they’re pulled over by Valerie Perrine,
And Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr., pretending to be priests and apparently drunk throughout filming.

Based on a real life (and very illegal) cross-country race that was held four times in the 1970s, The Cannonball Run is profoundly stupid movie that, if you’re in the right mood for it, is also profoundly fun. It’s a movie that really has no plot but it does have a lot of cars, a lot of stunts, a lot of cleavage, and a lot of politically incorrect humor, some of which has not aged well. Despite being hated by the critics, The Cannonball Run was a huge box office hit and it still remains a nostalgic guilty pleasure for a lot of people, myself included. One person who did not like The Cannonball Run was Burt Reynolds who, in an interview with the New York Times, once said, “”I did that film for all the wrong reasons. I never liked it. I did it to help out a friend of mine, Hal Needham. And I also felt it was immoral to turn down that kind of money. I suppose I sold out so I couldn’t really object to what people wrote about me.”

Burt has a point but, in defense of The Cannonball Run, what other movie actually features Jackie Chan beating up Peter Fonda?

Or Roger Moore playing someone who thinks that he’s Roger Moore?

Or Jack Elam playing a mad scientist?

Or Sammy and Dino, phoning it in one last time?

Or Captain Chaos?

Like most of Hal Needham’s films, The Cannonball Run ends with outtakes of Burt Reynolds blowing his lines and hitting people.

Tomorrow’s movie a day will be a film that Burt Reynolds is presumably much more proud of, Sharky’s Machine.

Film Review: Logan’s Run (dir. by Michael Anderson)

Posted on August 22, 2011 by Lisa Marie Bowman

So, last week, I asked for everyone to vote for which film I should watch on Sunday. 864 votes were cast and the winner was Michael Anderson’s 1976 cult classic, Logan’s Run. So, last night, I sat down with my sister Erin and we watched Logan’s Run. I have to admit that we both giggled a lot but we still enjoyed watching it. (I should also note that Logan’s Run was filmed in Dallas and Ft. Worth and, even 35 years later, both of us recognized a lot of familiar landmarks. The end of the film was shot at the Ft. Worth Water Gardens and we squealed with delight as we watched it and said, “We’ve been there!”)

Like most sci-fi films released before Star Wars, Logan’s Run takes place on a post-apocalyptic Earth. It’s the 23rd Century and what’s left of humanity lives in an underground city where they’re governed by a gently condescending computer. Civilization is now based around the pursuit of pleasure. Everyone appears to live in the world’s biggest mall (probably because the “City” scenes were actually filmed in a shopping mall located in my hometown of Dallas). It’s a city that’s essentially made up of slow-motion orgies, hot tubs, and crazy plastic surgeons. Everyone dresses in these sheer tunics and it quickly becomes obvious that the world’s knowledge underwear was apparently lost during the move underground. (Then again, this could have been because the film was made in the 70s. Seriously, did nobody own a bra in the 70s?)

Future civilization appears to have only one law and that’s that anyone who reaches the age of 30 has to go to Carrousel. At Carrousel, everyone has reached their time limit levitate in the air, floats around in a circle, and then blows up. Their fellow citizens assume that those being blown up are actually being “renewed” but actually, they’re just blowing up. (In many ways, Michael Anderson’s direction of Logan’s Run is pretty pedestrian but the Carrousel sequence is actually quite visually stunning.)

Now, some citizens don’t want to get blown up. These citizens are called runners and they greet their 30th birthday by attempting to flee the City and escape to the Outside and to a mysterious place they call “Sanctuary.” Some of them end up getting caught and frozen by a bizarre little robot called Box (played, in a really odd performance, by Roscoe Lee Browne). Those that don’t get caught by Box usually end up getting gunned down by the Sandmen. The Sandmen are a group of nylon-clad fascists who are never happier than when they’re gunning down runners.

At this point, you may have noticed that it actually takes more time to explain the film’s backstory than its actual story. Logan’s Run has a fascinating concept behind it and the plot has a lot of potential. Sadly, the film itself doesn’t quite live up to that potential but the story is still intriguing enough to carry the viewer through some of the film’s more uneven moments.

Michael York is Logan

The Logan of the title is a Sandman played by Michael York (who, when he first appears in this movie, projects just the right sense of unthinking entitlement). Logan is assigned (by the condescending computer) to infiltrate the runners and find sanctuary. In short, he’s ordered to run. However, as it quickly becomes obvious that nobody’s actually being renewed, Logan decides to run for real. Along with a runner named Jessica (played by Jenny Agutter), Logan tries to escape the city. Pursued by his best friend and fellow Sandman Francis (Richard Jordan), Logan and Jessica most deal with a psychotic plastic surgeon (well-played by the director’s son, Michael Anderson, Jr.) and his glam nurse (Farrah Fawcett!) as well as a tribe of feral children and a bunch of sex-crazed, naked people who move in slow motion. (It’s a neat visual, to be honest).

Logan, Jessica, and Farrah

When Logan and Jessica finally do reach the Outside, it turns out to not quite be all it was cracked up to be. (Or as Jessica puts it, in one of my favorite lines, “I hate outside!”) They come across the ruins of Washington, D.C. which turns out to be inhabited by a thousand cats and an old man played by Peter Ustinov. However, little do they know, Francis has followed them outside and, back at the City, the computer is still demanding to know the location of Sanctuary.

I enjoyed Logan’s Run but I’d be lying if I said it was a great film. It’s basically a big, silly, entertaining film that makes sense as long as you don’t think about it too much. I have a feeling that if I had seen this film in a theater, trapped in the same seat for 2 hours straight, I would probably be a lot harder on it. However, Logan’s Run is the perfect film to watch in the privacy of your own home with a friend or two (or, in my case, a big sister). The story is just good enough to hold your interest, you can openly giggle at the film’s more campy moments, and — once the action starts to drag — you’re free to move around and find something else to do until things get interesting again.

Ultimately, Logan’s Run shares the flaw that afflicts most sci-fi films that are about people trying to escape a decadent, dystopian society. That is, the movie is a lot more fun when everyone’s being decadent and evil than when everyone’s searching for a higher truth. When Jessica yelled that she hated the outside, I had to agree with her because the inside — even with everyone getting blown up at the age of 30 — was so much more fun. Inside the city, they had slow-motion orgies, hot tubs, and really pretty clothes. Meanwhile, the only thing that outside had to offer was Peter Ustinov reading a decayed copy of the Declaration of Independence. Don’t get me wrong — I was jealous that Ustinov got to live with all of those cute kitties but it just couldn’t compare with the psychotic plastic surgeons of the City. If that’s Outside, I can understand why everybody went inside.

(Personally, I call this the Matrix Rule. Everyone talks about how great Zion is but, seriously, what type of toadsucker would actually want to live in that tedious, ugly little Socialistic state?)

Still, despite this, Logan’s Run is a watchable and entertaining artifact of 70s “event” filmmaking. This film doesn’t have any scenes set in a disco but it really should.

Among the actors, both Michael York and Peter Ustinov are a lot of fun to watch as they both found their moments to go over the top and made the most of them. Perhaps my favorite over the top York moment came towards the end of the film when he shouted, “YOU CAN LIVE! LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!” When I first announced, on twitter, that I would be reviewing this film, I got a lot of replies from men who apparently had fond memories of Jenny Agutter in this film and her performance here is sexy and confident. Plus, she gets to deliver one of my favorite lines of all time, “I hate outside!” Still, if you want to talk about sexy and confidence, then you have to talk about Richard Jordan’s performance as the cocky Sandman, Francis. Seriously, Francis is a Sandman who could bring me a dream any night of the week…

Sexy, Dangerous Francis

So, in the end, Logan’s Run is silly but fun, uneven but definitely watchable. Thank you to everyone who voted for me to see this film. And until next time, remember — “Theeeeerrrrreeee Issssssssssss Noooooooo Saaaaaaaanctuuuuuuuary….”

Earlier today, I did a google search and I discovered that Logan's Run was apparently spun off into a television show. Apparently, this is the cast of that show. They certainly look a lot more cheerful than their film counterparts.

What Lisa Marie Watched Last Night: Myra Breckinridge (dir. by Michael Sarne)

Posted on June 6, 2011 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Last night, as I struggled to get some sleep, I ended up turning on the television to HBO and watching a truly infamous film — 1970’s Myra Breckenridge. Based on a novel by Gore Vidal (a writer that I generally have little use for), Myra Breckinridge is infamous for being one of two X-rated film released by 20th Century Fox in 1970. (The other one was Russ Meyer’s Beyond The Valley of the Dolls.)

Why Was I Watching It?

Because I’ve read a lot of books devoted to “the worst films ever made.” And all of them mention 1970’s Myra Breckinridge as being one of the worst ever made. And having seen the film, I can say that they’re right.

What’s It About?

Well, that’s a good question. Okay, there’s a bisexual film critic named Myron Breckinridge (played by an actual film critic named Red Reed). Myron gets a sex change operation from a pot-smoking doctor played by John Carradine. “It won’t grow back,” Carradine warns him.

Next thing you know, Myron is Myra and is now being played by Raquel Welch. Pretending to be Myron’s window, Myra goes to the acting school that is run by Myron’s uncle Buck (John Huston) and ends up falling in love with an acting student (played, pretty badly in her film debut, by Farrah Fawcett). Unfortunately, Fawcett’s in love with a cowboy from Oklahoma so Myra ends up anally raping the cowboy with a big dildo.

Oh, and a 70 year-old Mae West in the film for some reason. She plays a talent agent.

It all sounds a lot more interesting than it actually is.

What Worked?

Nothing. Just in case I’m not being clear, allow me to clarify: Nothing. Seriously, this may indeed be the worst movie I have ever actually sat through. What’s said is that it didn’t even work on a “so-bad-its-good” level. I love trashy film but Myra Breckinridge isn’t really interesting enough to be trashy. It’s just an amazingly boring film that thinks it’s about sex.

I’ve also read some who have claimed that this film, bad as it is, has a certain camp appeal. And, if you’ve never actually seen a campy film, you might think that Myra Breckinridge is camp. However, camp is not boring. Myra Breckinridge is.

Actually, there is one scene that has an odd, “you’ve-got-to-see-this-crap” appeal to it and here it is. Mae West sings “Hard to Handle.”

What Doesn’t Work:

The entire freaking film. Seriously. I mean, I don’t even know where to begin or what specifically to point out because, if you simply take this film’s failings on a problem-by-problem basis, it creates the false impression that the film is somewhat watchable.

Okay, here’s a few things that I simply will not be able to live with myself if I don’t take a few moments to be a bitch about:

1) There’s a lot of bad movies that are distinguished by interesting or, at the very least, watchable performances. It’s as if the actors realize that they’re going to go down with the ship unless they bring something new to the film. (Meanwhile, so-called great films feature some of the worst performances this side of Avatar…) Unfortunately, Myra Breckinridge is not one of those films. The cast alternates beyond going insanely overboard (like John Huston and Rex Reed) to delivering their lines with a dull contempt that seems to be directed as much at us as at themselves (like Raquel Welch.)

By the way, Raquel Welch is actually one of my favorite of the old school film stars. For me, she’s a bit of a role model, a strong Latina who never felt the need to apologize for being both a sex symbol and an intelligent, succesful woman. But Welch really does give a pretty bad performance here. Then again, I would argue that she gives the material exactly the amount of effort it deserves.

2) As bad as the cast is, no one is as terrible as Mae West. The 70 year-old West came out of retirement to play her role here. Anyway, it’s hard to understand why she’s in this film. At one point, when she meets a 6’7 actor, she says she’s only concerned with the seven inches. Now, imagine this being said by your great-great-great-grandma and you have some idea what it’s like to watch her performance here.

3) This film was made in 1970 and it attempts to be all counter-cultural by having “hippies” wandering around in the background. As well, we get a lot of hard-hitting political satire. By that, I mean that various fat men in cowboy hats pop up and complain about “smut” and “nudity” in the movies. I guess the audience is supposed to go, “Oh my God, they’re talking about movies like this!” It’s for this reason that I think that Myra Breckinridge is actually secretly meant to be a piece of right-wing propaganda.

4) Finally, for no real reason, clips from old 20th Century Fox films are littered throughout the film, popping up randomly to…well, I was going to say “comment on the action,” but few of them manage to do that. Basically, it works like this: you see Raquel Welch anally raping a man with a dildo. And then you see a clip of Stan Laurel for a few seconds. Then, you’re back to Raquel anally raping the man. Suddenly, there’s a clip of Claudette Colbert smiling. Suddenly, Raquel’s back and she’s still anally raping the man. And by the way, I’m not just making this up so I’ll have an example. This is what actually happens in the film.

5) And again, allow me to clarify that this film — which features Raquel Welch using a dildo to anally rape a man — is still one of the most boring things ever made.

6) “Okay,” you’re saying, “if you hated it so much then why did you sit through the entire freaking movie, Lisa?” I did it because, once I start watching a movie, I can’t stop watching until it ends. That’s my addiction. That’s my curse. That’s a duty that I’ve proudly accepted as a film lover. And not even Myra Breckenridge is going to keep me from doing my duty.

“Oh my God! Just like me!” Moments:

Yes, I know that this is where I traditionally offer up some sort of teasingly vague comment about my first year at college or where I admit that I’m scared of dogs, heights, swimming, and the area directly behind the television. And you would be justified in thinking that a film that claims to celebrate sexual freedom and bisexuality would give me the perfect excuse to be all sorts of TMI.

But you know what? There were absolutely no “Oh my God! Just like me!” TMI moments in Myra Breckenridge because there was not one single moment that, in any way, rang true or seemed to possess any sort of insight about…well, about anything. For an X-rated film that was specifically about sexuality, Myra Breckinridge left me as dry as the Sahara.

So, sorry — for the first time, I can say that I watched something that had absolutely no “OMG! Just like me!” moments.

Lessons Learned:

I will watch anything.