Vibiana Reviews

The Baby Dance (1998 TV Movie)

Would be a 10 if not for the ending

[9/10 · 29 August 2022]

It's not really fair of me to subtract a star because of the ending, but I was so disappointed. The scene where Wanda allows Rachel to feel the baby kicking in her belly and to whisper her name to her brought me to tears. I should say that Stockard Channing and Peter Riegert are two of my favorite actors and I've always admired Laura Dern too. Their characters in this movie, along with Wanda's husband, were difficult to like. Richard and Rachel come across as being cold and mercenary about the baby they're essentially buying, while Wanda and her husband seem like opportunists wanting to squeeze every nickel out of the buyers as possible.

I am a fervently pro choice woman and am also a vociferous critic of the old "closed" adoption system that would have prohibited an arrangement like this one and instead dictated unhealthy and suffocating secrecy over the matter. But the ending of this movie made me so angry at the erstwhile adoptive parents that I wept in outrage. Had Rachel given birth and had problems, would they have just walked away and left her in the hospital? A child is not a commodity. I believe parents should only become parents willingly, which is why I oppose abortion restrictions and forced birth and relinquishment by birth mothers. But if you feel like a baby is something that better come out perfect, you better put your wallet back in your pocket and get a pet instead.

Return to Mayberry (1986 TV Movie)

This sucked.

[1/10 · 29 May 2021]

You can't go home again. Watching this proves it. I didn't see it until 35 years after its original broadcast. I should've given it a pass.

She's Having a Baby (1988)

The title is wrong

[7/10 · 29 July 2020]

A movie called "She's Having a Baby" should give the titular character something to do other than wear the pregnancy pad and act bourgeois. Most movies in the late 1980s, including Betsy's Wedding and Pretty Woman, were really about the male lead actor rather than the titular characters. I can forgive them that, out of nostalgia if nothing else. But an actress as perceptive and talented as Elizabeth McGovern deserved more than this part gave her.

As for comparing it to the earlier films in the John Hughes ouevre ... hey, everybody has to grow up sometime. As someone who was eighteen when "Sixteen Candles" came out, I was a little old for his movies but enjoyed them nonetheless. I wasn't ready to be having a baby in 1988, but I felt he was proceeding with the generational coterie at a believable pace.

The Dark Secret of Harvest Home (1978)

One of those seventies "men scared of feminism" outings

[4/10 · 8 March 2017]

So last night's entertainment was a YouTube viewing of "The Dark Secret of Harvest Home," which scared the collective crap out of the girls in the eighth grade at Bridger Junior High School when it was aired in the fall of 1978, or at least all the ones I knew.

Adulthood is a blight at times. I sat there last night picking apart the plot holes like the Widow Fortune would have picked apart an improperly tatted doily to start it over. "Dark secret"? "What no man may know nor woman tell"? Huh? The dude who gets elected Young Lord, then Harvest Lord, never comes back after his gig in the seventh year. This has supposedly been happening over and over for decades. No woman may tell, but the men have eyes, don't they? No wonder young Worthy Pettinger took off rather than fulfill his role as the Young Lord. I'm surprised every man in town didn't take to his heels over that. LOL Heck, the only really scary thing about the movie was when Jack Stump showed us his tongue had been cut out, and we didn't even get to see that happen, just the results, this poor scared dude in a cabin in the woods, growling and cringing like a whipped dog. Bette Davis, who played the Widow Fortune, was probably steamed that they DIDN'T put the part where she cut out Jack Stump's tongue on camera. Now THAT would have been her type of scene. LMAO

Also, yeah, at the end, Nick Constantine has been blinded and had his tongue cut out because he saw what happened when the Harvest Lord and the Corn Maiden .... uh, planted. LOL But he's a grown man. He can still WRITE! He was a writer after all ... so, what, no sequel?

The Girl Next Door (2007)

There is no justification for making this movie!

[1/10 · 25 February 2008]

As others have noted, this film is loosely based on the story of Sylvia Likens, 16, who was tortured to death in the basement of an Indianapolis house in the summer and fall of 1965. Gertrude Baniszewski, the mentally unbalanced adult who was boarding Sylvia and her sister Jenny, 14, was eventually convicted and served 19 years in prison before being released -- despite public protest -- in 1985. She died of cancer in 1990 while living in Iowa under the name Nadine Van Fossan. Gertrude's children and some neighborhood boys were also involved in the torture and some served prison sentences of their own. One of the neighbor boys died of cancer within a few years after the murder.

There are two books written about this case -- one by Natty Bumppo and the other by Kate Millett. If you want to know about this case, read one of those books. They were written by people who treated this story with the dignity Sylvia was denied -- not exploiters like Jack Ketchum who just wanted to sell books, nor sleazoids like the people who made this movie, who just wanted to glorify the unspeakable depths to which some "humans" can sink. Blanche Baker, the only name actor in this production, ought to be jailed for agreeing to be part of this travesty, which amounts to little more than a snuff movie.

The Homecoming: A Christmas Story (1971 TV Movie)

One of my favorite Christmas movies

[10/10 · 23 November 2007]

I watch this one without fail every holiday season along with several others: "Going My Way" and "Since You Went Away" from 1943 and "It's a Wonderful Life." I was so glad when "The Homecoming" came out on DVD; my VHS copy was pretty ragged.

I was six years old when this film premiered on TV. My parents and I and a couple of my brothers watched it together. There are some wonderful memories tied up in it. My parents were Depression-era kids and they told me how Edgar Bergen ("Grandpa" in this movie) had actually been one of the biggest stars of their childhood with his radio program, "The Chase & Sanborn Hour." Later on, we visited the public library and borrowed audiocassette recordings of some of his shows. I have loved him ever since.

This movie is a true and faithful interpretation of life during the Great Depression for rural families. I don't know what was bothering that cranky reviewer who complained about the family's not saying a blessing before eating their soup in the first part of the movie, but to condemn the entire film for it is just silly. Have a candy cane and lighten up. LOL Although I loved The Waltons TV series, I somehow wish it could have retained these original characters (although Will Geer would have to have been worked into the cast somewhere else; he was one of the best actors in it!) The only thing I found unintentionally hilarious was Patricia Neal's interrogation of John-Boy after she finds his bedroom door locked: "What you doin' up thar in thet room by y'seff, BOYYYYYYYY?" That just made this six-year-old viewer pee her pants. LOL Fortunately for television history, John-Boy didn't say "Beating off, Mama," and the G rating was saved. LOL

Skylark (1993 TV Movie)

Annoying

[22 October 2007]

The original film, which I call "Sarah Big & Ugly" wasn't bad, even though I wanted to clout the two whiny little rug rats in it about every ten minutes. This one, however, like most sequels, was dreck.

Five second recap: Sarah and Jacob are watching the weather in Kansas get drier and drier while all their neighbors pack up and leave the prairie because their wells have dried up. The barn burns down and Sarah has an unintentionally hilarious Prozac-on-the-prairie moment when Jacob tries to shoot a coyote that's drinking from their scarce water supply. Probably thinking "I've got to get this crazy b**** out of my hair!" Jacob sends Sarah and the two whiny rug rats to stay with her relatives in Maine.

Did I mention these relatives? Man, were they weird. I could see where Sarah got it from, and also why they must have been so anxious to pack her skinny ass off to Kansas the first chance they got.

Through her patented Weird Old Lady telepathy abilities, Aunt Lou (who must be some sort of prehistoric bulldyke in her overalls, working at the veterinary clinic to boot) declares that Sarah's got a bun in the oven. Then Jacob shows up in a sissy city-boy ensemble to pack her and the kids home since, in fact, it has actually rained back in Kansas thanks to his skillful deployment of sitting on the porch listening to Sarah's victrola and looking mournful. And he's absolutely THRILLED to learn that the wife is knocked up. Gee, I can hardly wait for installment 3. Not.

Lost in Space: The Space Croppers (1966) Season 1, Episode 25

"He won't harm you if he knows you're going to be his daddy, Zachary ..."

[10/10 · 2 April 2007]

For this series, which despite my childhood love I can realize was not exactly the zenith of television -- this episode was really a good one. In watching it on DVD recently, I was amused at how thoroughly Jonathan Harris and Mercedes McCambridge enjoyed their roles. Sherry Jackson too. All three of them should be congratulated -- Harris and McCambridge posthumously -- for a job well done.

This is the episode I remember best, and the one that scared me the most as a six-year-old. Penny, Will, and Dr. Smith are filling a time capsule with items from the Jupiter Two, intending to bury the capsule and leave it for future inhabitants of their adopted planet to find. Night falls and Dr. Smith starts blubbering about full moons and werewolves when they hear what sounds like a wolf howl. Sure enough, there's a werewolf on the loose -- although this one seems more inclined to gesture for people to stay away from him than to leap for their throats.

Turns out the werewolf isn't the only newcomer to the planet. A sort of Hillbillies-in-Space family has arrived, intent on "plantin' us a crop and garnerin' us a harvest" of mysterious plants that look sort of, well, hungry.

Mercedes McCambridge didn't land a job voicing a demon in "The Exorcist" for nothing. As the matriarch ("It's Mother; not Ma," she snarls) of the hillbilly clan, she keeps giant, mute son Keel (Dawson Palmer) and sexy daughter Effra (Sherry Jackson) on a short leash. Not quite short enough to keep Effra from flirting with Maj. Don West, however, which allows us to be amused by Judy Robinson's indignant response.

Dawson Palmer played many of the costumed monsters in the Lost in Space series. This is one of the few in which we actually see him OUT of costume.

Near Dark (1987)

Jenny Wright and Adrian Pasdar heat up the screen

[8/10 · 17 January 2007]

Put simply, this is the most sensual portrayal of the vampire myth in recent cinematic history, and it does a neat turnaround of the roles, since most renditions have a sweet, innocent young woman seduced by a dark, handsome bloodsucker.

Instead, Jenny Wright is the ethereally beautiful, seductive, mysterious stranger who initiates Adrian Pasdar (as farm boy Caleb Colton, whose openly displayed lust is kind of amusing for a minute there) into the mysteries of her night-focused world. Watch her during the scenes in which she bites Caleb -- and later, kills for him. Jenny Wright certainly never reached the caliber of Meryl Streep during her short career, but she COULD act. Her performance as Mae in "Near Dark" was chilling -- and admirable.

Caleb is on a sort of probationary vampire status, and he finds it impossible to kill (which is a requirement, since according to Mae, "The night has its price.") And yes, the end is probably not what the readers of Fangoria would have preferred, although they probably would've bailed on this anyway once they learned the only real gore was in the bar room scene.

Terrific supporting cast, especially Bill Paxton, who stole every scene he was in. But the scenes with just Wright and Pasdar -- oooh. Powerful, sexy, and unforgettable. Not to be missed.

Bye Bye Love (1995)

Brats R Us

[1/10 · 30 June 2006]

Janeane Garafalo and Randy Quaid are the only bright spots in this flick. Ed Flanders (in his last role) has some good moments, but is basically wasted.

It was hard to feel much empathy for the "victimized" children of divorce here. "Ben," the screen son of Matthew Modine's character, needed his butt torn off and his mouth nailed shut in my opinion. And "Emma," the screen daughter of Paul Reiser's character, was nothing but a spoiled, miserable brat. She could have used a trip on the clue bus to the land of reality.

Randy Quaid's kids were actually kind of cute. Maybe because Randy Quaid's character was more believable as a father than those of either of his co-stars.

Harold and Maude (1971)

If you wanna be trite, be trite; cos there's a million ways to be trite, you know that there are!

[1/10 · 9 December 2005]

In the late 1960s, a trend in literature and film -- that of attempting to make the lives of WASPy East Coast tycoons-to-be look wretched and soul-destroying -- swept over America. Those of us in the "flyover" states, contentedly munching our cake and participating in league bowling and working for a living, were profoundly mystified by this trend, particularly since films like "Harold and Maude," "Love Story," "The Graduate," etc. tended to make the "richie" parents paragons of evil, to the point they were cartoon characters. Oh, yeah, it's so terrible that you stand to inherit more money than 20 of my relatives put together will make in their whole lives. Let me hold the hankie while you blow your nose. NOT.

It was, as another reviewer pointed out, hard for me to get past the "squick factor" of contemplating a 20-year-old guy in bed with a 79-year-old woman, but it was even harder for me to like dour Harold or annoying Maude. They both seemed utterly amoral and unsympathetic.

The only reason I watched this movie is that I love Ruth Gordon. But I did not like her character in this film.

The Legend of Boggy Creek (1972)

A Warning

[11 July 2005]

One of my brothers took a girl he really liked to see "The Legend of Boggy Creek" on their first date in 1972. She never went out with him again. Word to the wise.

This is basically a pseudo-documentary with incredibly cheesy music ("Hey there, Travis Crabtree," a local lad is serenaded as he travels to the home of a slackjawed yokel whose name escapes me, but not the fact that he shot off his own foot). As for the "Creature Theme," my brother and I took great delight in parodizing the lyrics:

This is where the creature goes / when he needs to blow his nose

etc. etc. etc. and other preteen humor (?).

But for your basic seventies celebration of Middle American white trash culture, it just doesn't get any better than this. Young girls in curlers, alone in the trailer with a big hairy creature stalking around outside! Cats meeting horrible fates just from espying said creature! Corn-pone accents galore! NOW how much would you pay?

I, Madman (1989)

Jenny Wright at the top of her game

[10/10 · 6 July 2005]

In the early 1980s, a young actress made her first appearances in television and films with an unforgettably quirky presence -- vulnerable and seductive all at once. Her delicate features -- unusual green eyes and aching-to-be-kissed lips -- combined with her petite and shapely figure to make a true elfin beauty.

Unfortunately, Jenny Wright never had much of a chance; she was sidelined into 'tramp' roles from the word go. Her small-screen debut on the critically acclaimed sitcom, "Love, Sidney," was as a teenage runaway/prostitute. Her film debut in "Pink Floyd: The Wall" cast her as a groupie. For the remainder of 1982, the bad girl image more or less stuck: she gave Robin Williams' Garp his first sexual experience as flighty Cushie in "The World According to Garp" and she played the flirty younger sister of Tommy Lee Jones' girlfriend in the made-for-TV film "The Executioner's Song."

In 1984, Jenny Wright was cast as Eileen in "The Wild Life," a semisequel to the popular "Fast Times at Ridgemont High." She was her charming self, in a role that didn't have much to offer, but gave some bright spots to an otherwise forgettable film. The two films she made next, 1985's "St. Elmo's Fire" and 1986's "Out of Bounds," cast her with members of the Brat Pack. Although she was never an official Brat Packer, she was on its fringes.

In 1987, Jenny was offered her first star turn in Kathryn Bigelow's "Near Dark." Released at the same time as the mainstream-smash "Lost Boys," it finished decidedly second at the box office -- a shame, since Jenny's performance as vampire ingenue Mae was nothing short of brilliant. This film also marked Jenny's decided career directional change away from mainstream film and into indies.

"I, Madman" was made in 1989, and watching it is a treat. Jenny is perfect in her dual role as real-time victim Virginia and fifties-era victim Anna Templer. Pursued relentlessly by an apparition seemingly leaping from the pages of a pulp novel, Virginia desperately tries to get someone to believe her story and help her. There were some confusing plot points in this film, but Jenny's performance more than compensated for them.

Unfortunately, "I, Madman" marked the last time Jenny had a major role in a film, and in the early 1990s she reprised her early-career persona of the tramp in films like "Queens Logic," "Young Guns II" (as a memorable madam), and 1992's "The Lawnmower Man" (as Marnie Burke, a widow on the prowl). Making only one more film appearance in 1998, she has virtually disappeared. Attempts to locate her to appear with her colleagues in a documentary about "Near Dark" were unsuccessful. Ironic that this talented actress, so good in two films with sinister plots ("Near Dark" and "I, Madman") should be the subject of a mystery herself.

The Big Chill (1983)

Do their egos fit in their heads?

[1/10 · 10 April 2005]

I was born at the tail end of the baby boom -- 1965. I was also the youngest of five in my family, so I spent my childhood with a pack of genuine baby boomers. I didn't see this film until 2005 when I got it off a dollar rack at Half Price Books. To put it mildly, I made it through about an hour and couldn't stand any more.

This movie ushered in the flurry of baby boomer flicks that polluted the movie industry for the next dozen or so years. I was actually relieved when Tom Brokaw's book spotlighted the Greatest Generation, since it was a welcome switch from navel-gazing fifties kids whining about their lost youth. Do baby boomers think no one else ever experienced anything -- love, sex, parenthood, grief? The cast assembled for this movie acquitted themselves well in their respective roles -- but they were playing characters I found so shallow, hypocritical, and over-absorbed with themselves that even a good portrayal didn't save them.

Twice in a Lifetime (1985)

I had to see this movie a few times before I realized how much it p***ed me off

[13 June 2004]

This review contains SPOILERS.

Here's the plot in a nutshell: workin' stiff Gene Hackman is a blue-collar warrior who spends his days (or whatever shift he's assigned) in a rough-and-tumble Seattle steel mill. (I didn't even know Seattle HAD steel mills, but whatever). In his off hours, he heads to the Shamrock tavern to hoist a few with his similarly blue-collar buddies, Brian Dennehy among them. The Shamrock is presided over by Micole Mercurio, who seems to shine in these Harley Mama roles (she even played one in "Mask.") As the movie begins, Micole's hired a new waitress, Ann-Margret.

It's Gene Hackman's fiftieth birthday, and his wife of thirty-plus years, Ellen Burstyn, has gathered two of their three children, daughters Amy Madigan (in a role so marinated in anger that it makes your teeth ache, plus she's got the worst haircut in the free world) and Ally Sheedy, for a family celebration at home. Amy's 28, married young to a workin' stiff like Dear Old Dad, but things are unraveling -- we all recall how the Reagan administration loved steelworkers. So hubby's mostly laid off, and that means Amy is already pissed off. What happens during this movie doesn't put her in any better of a mood.

Ally Sheedy is seven or eight years younger, has a boyfriend who's about to become a fiancé, and has decided rather than trying to go through the traditional college route, to marry and go to night school, much to her older sister's vexation. There is a son who lives in San Diego and isn't seen until about halfway through the movie, first on a visit to be there for his mother when Dad leaves her and then for his kid sister's wedding.

Ellen Burstyn works in a beauty shop during the day, and we get the impression that hers is one of those old-fashioned marriages where her husband spends a lot of time out with the boys while she socializes with her grown daughters and other women from work or church. Yet it appears that she and her husband have a sort of contentedness to their union, and until Ann-Margret punches in for her first night at the Shamrock, all seems to be well. Ellen begs off for the evening at the Shamrock, so Gene goes alone. It appears the scriptwriters see Ellen's action as some symbolic "I'm sending my husband out alone so if he cheats I deserve it" message.

Down at the tavern, Gene Hackman and Brian Dennehy flirt good-naturedly with Ann-Margret for a bit, then Micole asks the birthday boy for a dance (inexplicably, since the song is almost over, but whatever). Then Gene asks Ann-Margret to dance, to which she replies, "I'd rather have a kiss," which he is only too eager to bestow. Next morning, he's meeting her in a shopping mall parking lot to spend one of those "new romance" days together, walking around the park, eating ice cream cones, etc.

A previous reviewer really savaged Ellen Burstyn's character, alleging that anyone as boring and homebodyish as her should just about EXPECT to get dumped. While I agree with him that Ellen's character was insufficiently developed, I can't agree that Gene Hackman was portrayed as a rat. The whole movie seemed to take it for granted that the affair "just happened," and that therefore Gene and Ann-Margret were blameless. Not in my book. One of the most hilarious moments is when, three or four days into the affair, a friend of Ellen's sees Gene and Ann-Margret in his car and tells Ellen about it. When Ellen confronts Gene, he goes to Ann-Margret, saying he told Ellen that the affair was "separate" from the marriage. (Well, duh, partner. That's why it's wrong. Whatever ...) Anyhoo, Ann-Margret reacts with proper outrage, but it's not because Gene is screwing around on his wife. Oh, no, it's because Gene won't dump his wife for her. "If we're to make it, it's got to be JUST YOU AND ME, and no one else," she huffs. Gee, I'll bet his wife thinks the same thing.

In short order, Gene leaves Ellen and moves into a rathole apartment downtown. Ellen is catatonic with grief for a time, then after a triumphant night at the bingo hall, she goes back to work at the beauty shop, gets a makeover, and goes to her first Chippendales bar. The plot puts her to work sewing dresses for Ally's wedding, and that's pretty much it for Ellen's character until the very last scene when she finally speaks up for herself (it's one of the finest moments in the movie). I would have found it a lot more interesting if the movie had focused on Ellen's putting her life back together, rather than throwing a rosy spotlight on the affair between Gene and Ann-Margret.

Perhaps one reason I was so critical of Amy Madigan's character is that her anger was so understandable. At the end of the movie, when Gene attempts to speak to her on the sidewalk in front of the church where Ally just got married, Amy tells him "This isn't the time and it isn't the place," and stalks off. Gene watches everyone leave, then intercepts the florist who's carrying out flowers to grab a few for Ann-Margret. Not only a cheater, but a cheap cheater at that. Doesn't it make you get all misty?

The Galloping Gourmet (1968– )

Memories ...

[29 March 2004]

I used to watch this show with my mother when I was quite young. Graham Kerr was a scream in those late-sixties, early-seventies days. He used to dip into the sherry bottle and by the time whatever he'd cooked was done, he was so hammered he could have made Dog Flops Diane and still thought it was tasty. The climax of the show was when he invited a member of his audience, usually a housewife who was stammering and babbling about how much she admired him, to sit down with him and enjoy whatever he'd prepared. All the recipes were for foods that would have given Nathan Pritikin a massive coronary just hearing about them, and while Graham Kerr is still alive and kicking, I wonder how many housewives he killed in the course of this show. LOL

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967)

Interesting idea, but cops out at the end

[26 March 2004]

It's the late 1960s, a period of extreme unrest in the United States. The status of women, blacks, gays, college students, and draftees is being questioned and examined. But the unrest doesn't seem to have invaded the lives of the characters portrayed by Katherine Houghton and Sidney Poitier. She's a carefree early-twentysomething whose debut bow was probably the most strenuous moment of her life, and he's a widowed doctor in his late thirties who has risen above his humble beginnings (as the son of a mail carrier and, I presume, a housewife) to become internationally renowned. Oh, yeah, and she's white and he's black. And they met ten days ago in Hawaii. Oh, and they want to get married. Like, now. Is that okay, Mom and Dad?

Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy (in his last film role) portray Houghton's parents. Daddy's a newspaper publisher, and Mom toys around with the arts ... oh, piffle, she owns a gallery, nothing serious. Just pin money. They live in a mansion in the San Francisco "gentry ghetto" and are lovingly cared for by Tillie (Mrs. Jefferson didn't take no lip even back then) and Dorothy, the mod young thang in the psychedelic minidress. They are fashionably agnostic, although they cultivate the friendship of an affable old priest, and up until now, their laissez-faire outlook on social justice has never really been put to the test, as their priest pal observes with not inconsiderable amusement.

Roy Glenn and Beah Richards portray Poitier's parents. Pop's not too keen on the impending nuptials, and says as much in no uncertain terms, prompting Poitier to blithely retort that Pop's many sacrifices in raising his son to have a better life than he himself did were no more than his (Poitier's) due. That one scene put a bit of a tarnish on Dr. Perfecto for me, although he had also annoyed me thoroughly throughout the movie by pronouncing his ladylove's name as "Joanner." How veddy veddy blueblooded of him.

Anyhoo, this was Hollywood's take on the "miscegenation" issue in the turbulent late sixties, and since we know they had to be CAREFUL, it's not too surprising the way this story went. Everyone spent a lot of time baring their souls, climaxing with Beah Richards (the best part of the movie in my opinion) calmly asserting to Spencer Tracy that he must have forgotten what it's like to be in love, or he wouldn't be so worried about racial disparity. True enough, but in his place, I daresay I'd have worried about ANY daughter of mine wanting to marry someone after knowing him only ten days. But I digress.

I see from reading other comments that Spencer Tracy had to jump through quite a few hoops to even get to be in this film at all, and so I assume he was pleased with the way it turned out at the end -- he gets to make everyone shut up and listen to his long, blustery speech on his feelings about the whole situation and how he's decided that, doubts be damned, the happy couple should be given the blessings of all and let's all fly to Switzerland to see them married. Neatly tying up the film (except for a few teary shots of Katharine Hepburn, meant to bronze forever this final screen pairing of the long-term illicit lovers) and steamrollering over any other objections, then, everyone troops in to dinner. The benevolent Caucasian patriarch has spoken, and that's that.

Others have commented upon the overall "weirdness" of certain scenes -- the one of Dorothy dancing with the delivery boy, the visit to the drive in for ice cream, and Katharine Hepburn's dressing down and firing of Virginia Christine (poor Mrs. Oleson!). I have to agree that these scenes tend to stop the film cold and leave you wondering why they were included at all. Virginia Christine's appearance at the beginning of the movie made more than clear what her opinion about Poitier's and Houghton's even keeping company together, much less marrying, was. To bring her back as the great WASP avenger of young white feminine purity was a bit much.

So much more could have been done with this film, and it's rather sad in retrospect. The time when it could have been made effectively is gone forever, which is good for the most part. People take interracial marriages for granted today. That is as it should be. And I'm sure that this movie had at least a small part in influencing the change in thought and perspective. But it could still have done so much more.

About Last Night (1986)

Our Little Brat Pack is Growing Up

[26 December 2003]

I saw this movie in the theater in 1986. I recall seeing an interview with Rob Lowe and Demi Moore in which they said they were glad to be playing characters who were their own age, after giving yeoman service to the early-eighties teen-romp genre. Perhaps after the blithering wreck that was "St. Elmo's Fire," they thought any script would be an improvement. Well, they were almost right. Not quite, though.

My real problem with the characters in this movie is that all of them are unlikeable. Rob Lowe and Demi Moore do the typical Me Generation routine of Meet Cute, Sleep Together Right Away, Attempt To Cobble Meaningful Relationship Only After Ascertaining Sexual Compatibility. As an earlier reviewer noted, the majority of people who've tried this in real life have learned the hard way that you can't start in the middle if you want a happy ending.

Jim Belushi has some amusing lines as Rob Lowe's blustery legend-in-his-own-mind buddy, but his "would you look at the nips on that one" attitude toward women is too offensive to redeem him otherwise. Elizabeth Perkins' adversarial attitude toward men makes it not too believable that she'd succeed in dragging a new trick home every weekend, unless we assume that she visited a veterinarian every Friday to have her fangs milked first.

I haven't seen the stage play on which this movie was based, but I'd be interested to. I wonder whether the premise here is true to the playwright's original vision?

Ice Castles (1978)

Awww ... she's blonde! She's cute! She's Daddy's girl ... I hope I don't spit up

[26 December 2003]

I could have done without some of the simpering-Iowa-farm-girl stuff from Lynn-Holly Johnson here. Yes, I know, I'm cold and heartless. However, Johnson seems too fragile to be champion material in her interpretation of the role of Alexis Winston (is THIS the movie responsible for the current glut of little Alexises born since 1979? Gee, thanks ... NOT).

Robby Benson plays the usual amiable dork role he made so famous in the seventies. I was a squealing junior-high student during his reign and have yet to figure out why we thought he was so cute. I think I forgot about him once I got a look at Parker Stevenson.

Anyhoo ... this film is one cliche from beginning to end, but the person who says so will be labeled an unromantic, mean ninny by 95% of the human race, so you didn't hear it from me. The movie was okay. I only wanted to hurl through about 60 percent of it, and 50 percent of that was the result of the subplot in which sweet-sixteen Alexis is wooed by the television reporter covering the story of her meteoric rise to fame. Ah, those golden days of yore, before the wide use of the term "jailbait."

So go ahead ... see it ... but don't say I didn't warn you.

Since You Went Away (1944)

Ancestor of the contemporary chick flick

[26 December 2003]

This three-hankie weeper, like "Gone With the Wind," is one of my guilty pleasures. Guilty not only because of its overwrought sentimentality, but also its unabashed racism. Does anyone else notice the "plantation music" that swells practically any time Hattie McDaniel appears on the screen? Or the offensive caricatures of Japanese on the bowling alley banner urging more war production effort?

Even so, I can't let this film out of my list of favorites. Joseph Cotten in his Navy whites took my breath away. Jennifer Jones and Robert Walker (real-life husband and wife at one time) gave tender and poignant life to their love story. Claudette Colbert and Agnes Moorehead were polar opposites -- one valiant and sincere, the other craven and manipulative -- playing off each other to perfection. Shirley Temple -- well, bless her heart, she DID try to keep acting after her childhood cuteness wore off. And Monty Woolley (with help from Soda the Bulldog, who is not listed in the credits so I'm not sure of his own acting resume) gave a splendid performance as an Army officer who doesn't quite succeed in convincing us he's a complete grinch.

My father was in the Navy in World War Two, and according to him, it was an honor to be in uniform. This film will go on reminding us younger generations of that, long after men like my father are no longer here to do so.

Fatal Attraction (1987)

Bower of Bridal Bliss and Baby Bundling Battled Upon By Bonkers Bunny Boiler

[30 November 2003]

I have a handful of things to say about this film.

1. Both the endings were loathsome, but the original one was preferable to the tired "thriller" version that was committed for the ages.

2. All the characters were more or less caricatured. It was hard to find sympathy for Alex Forest, who knew she was dallying with a married man; but it was even harder to find sympathy for Dan Gallagher, who would have aborted (or murdered, by murdering the mother) his unborn child rather than facing the consequences of his actions. Beth Gallagher's character could have been fascinating had it been sufficiently developed. It was not, since the film gave the spotlight to Dan's selfish attempts to save his own miserable hide, and to making Alex Forest into a caricature of the woman scorned.

3. I think part of the reason Alex's character was so ridiculous is that people like her -- SOMETHING like her, anyway -- are becoming more common these days. There are men like Alex, too, but Hollywood finds a threatening broad much more titillating than a threatening dude.

If you disagree with my point #3, just read any of Gavin deBecker's books dealing with stalking -- "The Gift of Fear," "Protecting the Gift," etc. Also, Linden Gross's book, "To Have or to Harm" deals with the terror that can develop when love goes "wrong" and one party can't handle it. Finally, Dr. Susan Forward's "Obsessive Love" gives further insight into this phenomenon.

There is a bit of Alex Forest in more people than would want to admit it, myself included. Oh, I've never boiled a bunny, nor would I ever want to hurt anyone, but I've certainly been rejected in love and can understand (to SOME degree) Alex's emotions, if not her actions spurred by them. I think that it was easier for the filmmakers to build Alex up into some kind of Medusalike (get that hair!) viper-woman than it would have been to explore the personality of a woman who reacts, in some degree justifiably, to being treated like a throwaway.

Airport 1975 (1974)

Oh, my. Where to start ... this little baby is a gem for a sarcastic reviewer

[17 November 2003]

Air travel in the 1970s (which was before fare laws made it more affordable) still retained a certain amount of chic. It was expensive enough that a lot of people had still never flown. In a family with five kids, our mode of transportation was a Volkswagen Bus. The Brady Bunch was the only big family I knew who went on vacations involving air travel. (And for the record, my first flight was in 1987, when I was 22).

This movie has so many hilarious moments in it, it's hard to catch all of them. First, Karen Black, that witchy-looking broad who wore the Zulu teeth in "Trilogy of Terror" has a few intimate moments with Charlton Heston, AKA Cockpit Moses, AKA NRA is My Copilot. I'm sorry, but the idea of him and her together ... ewwww. But I digress.

Next, we have the legendary Gloria Swanson, assaying the role of ... Gloria Swanson. What this consists of is: droning on endlessly into a tape recorder (or to her luckless secretary, who probably would have considered a plane crash a welcome diversion) about her fascinating life, how she was "a rebel" in her career, etc. -- the only thing she leaves out is what it was like to be bundling with JFK's daddy -- and wearing this bizarre sort of burnoose that ends up looking like a man-eating nun's habit. Which sets us up nicely for the introduction of two nunly stereotypes.

Sister Martha Scott displays a traditional habit, including a wimple, and a traditional outlook. Sister Helen Reddy (I swear I'm not making this up) is wearing a post-Vatican II modified habit and looks a lot like Julie Andrews in "The Sound of Music." Which is ironic given later events.

Getting thoroughly plowed in the airport bar are Mindy's dad, the guy who never wanted to have sex with Audra Lindley, and Carmine Vespucci. They run into Myrna Loy, who you'd think was an ordinary old-lady type, only to reveal that she swills boilermakers at every possible opportunity. If you're wondering why this was even a plot point, join the club.

And now, on to the plane. What a marvel of design that baby was! Those seats were the size of Lazy Boy recliners, even in coach class. To think that if only I'd been born to a millionaire, I could have experienced flight in the days before you get shoehorned into a seat the size of a toy poodle carrier with your knees in your face ... and not only that, THIS plane has a groovy spiral staircase leading up the flight deck, so that the passengers can ogle the stews' legs as they rush back and forth with coffee, tea or me.

Just when we think the ham can't get sliced any thicker, they wheel Linda Blair onto the plane in the role of a young girl (Sister Martha unnecessarily informs Sister Helen, "It's a young girl!" as if Sister Helen couldn't see that). And not just any young girl. A young girl who is DESPERATELY in need of a kidney transplant. Played by an actress who doesn't seem to catch on to the fact that someone in desperate need of a kidney transplant isn't going to be beaming and bubbling over about how "exciting" it is to look at all the people. However, since Linda was simply assaying yet another of the roles in her 1970s Put Upon Damsel collection, I can't fault her too much.

Meanwhile, at another airport, a former Air Force Glory Boy from "The Best Years of Our Lives" is preparing to journey home to Boise, Idaho. He calls home, and the phone is answered by none other than the blonde broad who took Uncle Charlie's apron and put the wrecking ball to "My Three Sons." She's his wife (how is it that all the lovely young actresses in this film are head over heels in love with these geriatric actors? Point to ponder). So, ignoring the forecasts of bad weather and the ominously prescient comment of a friend who says he's looking pale, our lone pilot leaps into his Patsy Cline Special and heads out in the middle of a driving rain.

Now, this sets up the pivotal scene. We have a large 747 loaded with 150 people (those seats were ROOMY, man) and an itty bitty plane with a guy who's starting to not feel so good, and they're both circling Salt Lake City, waiting for permission to land. Until Air Force Glory Boy has a heart attack and his plane collides with the jet in midair. Ouch.

Particularly since September 11, it's blackly amusing to see all the passengers sitting so calmly and obediently in their seats after the collision. Even if we were to suspend rational thought long enough to accept the idea that a collision that sucks out the first officer wouldn't be accompanied by enough pressure to suck out the entire flight crew and maybe the back wall of the flight deck, the fact that everyone just sat there, bundled up in their coats and cheesy purple airline blankets, while "THE STEWARDESS IS FLYING THE PLANE?" (thank you, Sid Caesar) is still hilarious to comprehend.

Now, lest I give away the Cheez Whiz ending too much, let me just say that I don't understand why, if everyone else got shoved out the inflatable ramps, Karen Black and Charlton Heston were allowed to promenade dramatically down the regular steps to the tarmac (ah, those days before jetways).

Anyhoo, this one is better experienced than described. If nothing else, it's fun to spot all the "Airplane" parody fodder.

A Last Cry for Help (1979 TV Movie)

I saw this film when it originally premiered on television

[29 October 2003]

It stayed with me all these years, perhaps because of the poignancy of its heroine's situation. Sharon is a cheer leader, pretty and popular, with loving parents and a beautiful home and all the advantages that go with it. However, she sees her older sister, who was also a cheer leader in her younger days, now married and mothering in her twenties, already slotted into the narrow suburban housewife life that their mother planned for her, and perhaps Sharon feels a little helpless.

Her mother seems singularly uninterested in her daughter's doubts and fears, at one point even telling Sharon, "You have no right to be unhappy!" Not surprisingly in view of her lack of support from home, Sharon's grief implodes, resulting in a suicide attempt. She meets a young man, Jeff, in the hospital where she is sent for observation and strikes up a friendship with him that eventually results in further grief for her. Sharon also must deal with the variety of reactions she elicits from friends and family after her suicide attempt.

I was fourteen when this film was first aired, and I was certainly no cheer leader type. I was a fat, nerdy kid who figured all the cheer leader types had it made -- popular, pretty, had all the boys interested in them, etc. This film forced me to realize that things really are tough all over sometimes. Since TV movies are so rarely aired anymore except on cable, I don't imagine this one has gotten much exposure.

Satan's Cheerleaders (1977)

Audi precas maos, Satana blessed be ...

[29 October 2003]

This one is a scream. It's in my schlock hall of fame collection. LOL

If you haven't seen Yvonne DeCarlo in full post-Lily-Munster devil-priestess regalia, about to be torn to shreds by Dobermans named Lucifer and Diablo (the writers weren't trusting us to be capable of interpreting subtleties here) and crying out "Satan, why hast thou forsaken me?" you just haven't lived.

But wait. There's more. How much would you pay for a defrocked Catholic priest-turned-Satan-worshiper who can't seem to shake the habit of crossing himself and who frets prissily over the prospect of the intended Cheap Ho cheer leaders -- who are currently escaping from the clutches of the coven -- being attacked by the killer Dobies ("Oh, we mustn't soil the maidens," he flutters)?

Or a cheer leading sponsor who seems to have stepped out of some bizarre Oral Roberts University parallel universe where she just can't IMAGINE the idea that wearing short skirts and tight sweaters and jumping high enough to show your underpants might be construed as provocative to the males of the species?

Or a speech-impaired school janitor (who spends his off hours slathered in the worst seventies polyester leisure outfits ever manufactured) who makes a stammering vow to avenge the students who make fun of him by turning them over to the high priest of the devil coven for justice?

How about a sheriff named "B.L. Bubb" (again with the aversion to subtlety) who has to be the most wooden performer since Adam West in "Batman" or Charlton Heston in "The Ten Commandments" -- maybe since he and Charlton shared the divine Miss DeCarlo as a wife, something in her aura caused them to be stricken with Over The Top Acting Syndrome?

Now how much would you pay? But then, I can't fault anyone, since I did shell out five bucks for this one on a remaindered supermarket video rack. And I probably would have gone as high as fifteen to claim this gem of Drive In Infamy for my personal collection. LOL

The Stuff (1985)

Attack of the killer marshmallow fluff

[27 October 2003]

That's about what "the stuff" looks like. Yeah, I agree, this is probably one of the stupidest movies ever made and it would have been nice if the actors had played it for the campy holy-cannoli-Batman kind of stuff it was, but there it is, preserved for the ages in its untouchable glory, so let's just marvel in it.

I too have to wonder about the guy in the opening scene who starts scarfing up something that bubbled up out of a hole in the ground. I wonder if he ever heard the joke about the airplane that lost its toilet waste reservoir and the guy who found it by taking a big lick of a flying popsicle before he knew what it was?