Christina (1974) User Reviews

haunting movie

[movielover1913 · 7/10 · 7 June 2012]

This review does not dismiss the opinions of others in relation to this movie. Let me just say that, for me, a worthwhile film is one that stays with you. I saw "Christina" years ago as a child and I always remembered it; the images, the atmosphere and the overall "look" of the movie. It is far from perfect, but it reflects a degree of cleverness that is missing from many another film. I speak to the actual plot machinations, which are adequately twisting enough to keep you guessing as to what is really happening.

Then there is the relationship between Simon Bryce, the out of work engineer, and Christina, which has more to do with his fantasy fulfillment than with reality, but which is touching nevertheless. So when we get to the tragic denouement, there is a genuine sense of loss.

Finally, as stated above, there is the overall look and atmosphere of the movie. Maybe it's a little dated, maybe there are cardboard, potboiler formulaic elements; but for me it works because they do create atmosphere. Barbara Parkins is noteworthy -- both in terms of her glamor and her handling of the role. And Peter Haskell is solid as Bryce, who falls for the femme fatale.

I've always found it interesting that a movie can be imperfect in many, many ways and still have "something". Maybe because movies operate on numerous levels and can create their own kind of magic -- something to do with wish fulfillment, perhaps.

"Would you die for Christina?" Naah, not particularly

[The Hoyk · 4/10 · 21 June 2007]

The pop-artish U.S. one-sheet for this film promises great things -- a treacherous protagonist, a house on fire, somebody wearing leather fetish gear before BDSM was a widely known activity. Well, all those elements can be found, but unfortunately, they're integrated into a plodding mystery that a viewer would swear was a '70's TV movie-of-the-week except the film is in Panavision and the pacing is even slower.

The premise initially offers hope for intrigue. A long-unemployed man gets a too-good-to-be-true offer from a mysterious lady who appears to know everything about his situation except what TV shows he watches while atrophying at home: agree to a paper marriage so she can avoid immigration hassles, and collect a tidy sum. And like many thriller heroes of a bygone era, he does not have the benefit of the collected works of David Mamet to alert him to when he's being set up for a Spanish Prisoner, so of course he plays along. And before you can say Charlie Lampert, he receives his money, but she vanishes. Most men would be content to have the cash and the absentee wife, but no, the sap loves this woman he's barely known, and insists on tracking her down.

Thus follows the requisite journey among mercenary investigators, cynical cops, know-nothing butlers, hit men, porn dealers, transvestites, phony mediums, and an oh-so-helpful Girl Friday, as our hero finds out Christina is Not Who She Seemed! By the time we arrive at the climax that involves one of the most long-winded instances of the inveterate Myth of the Talking Killer, conveniently explaining the whole sordid plan to a minor character we've known for only ten minutes, The Big Reveal is just not that big a deal anymore.

Writer/Producer Trevor Wallace apparently was connected to several convoluted thrillers of the '70's, the best received being THE GROUNDSTAR CONSPIRACY with George Peppard, on which he served as producer only. He can twist the plot around fine, but he can't put any real sense of urgency into the matter. Nor does star Peter Haskell makes us believe it is paramount for him to find his elusive beloved.

Barbara Parkins meanwhile is a gorgeous, reasonably interesting, and somewhat campy vamp, particularly when she shows up, in soft focus, in the previously mentioned bondage gear. One wonders if there was more exploration of this character's deviant personality trait filmed, but omitted to secure the film's PG rating. But she's also such a cold fish that any other man would have taken a page from Bunuel's THAT OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE and just dumped a bucket of water on her head and walked away.

And thus so should you if you have opportunity to view this poor potboiler. Some films stay obscure for a reason. But if you find a copy of the poster, go ahead and get it: it will be a lot more entertaining on your wall than the movie will be on your television.