Another of director Otto
Preminger’s cringe-inducing attempts to explore themes related to the youth
culture of the late ’60s and early ’70s, this awkward movie features a few
cutting one-liners, but is so scattershot and tone-deaf that it’s nearly a disaster.
Worse, this is very much a case of the director being a film’s biggest
impediment, because had a filmmaker with more restraint and a deeper connection
to then-current themes stood behind the lens, the very same script could have inspired
a memorable movie.
Adapted from a provocative novel by Lois Gould, the movie
tells the story of Julie Messigner (Dyan Cannon), a New York City housewife who
discovers that her husband (Laurence Luckinbill) is a philanderer—at the very
same time her husband is stuck in a coma following complications from surgery.
(Any resemblances to the 2011 movie The
Descendants, which features a similar plot, are presumably coincidental.)
As Julie discovers more and more about her husband’s wandering ways, she moves
through stages of grief, first denying the evidence with which she’s confronted,
and then acting out in anger by having affairs of her own. Mixed into the main
storyline are semi-satirical flourishes about the medical industry, because one
of Julie’s close friends is Timmy (James Coco), the leader of the incompetent
medical team treating Julie’s husband. As if that’s not enough, Preminger also
includes trippy bits in which Julie flashes back and/or hallucinates because
she’s looking at the world in a new way. In one such scene, Julie dreams that a
publishing executive played by Burgess Meredith is naked while he’s talking to
her at a party, leading to the odd sight of Meredith doing a few bare-assed
dance moves.
Preminger’s atonal discursions clash with the poignant nature of
the story, thereby undercutting strong qualities found in the movie’s
script—the great Elaine May (credited under the pseudonym Esther Dale) and
other writers contributed pithy dialogue exchanges that occasionally rise above
the film’s overall mediocrity. Preminger’s sledgehammer filmmaking hurts
performances, too. Cannon tries to infuse her character with a sense of
awakening, but Preminger seems more preoccupied with ogling her body and
pushing her toward jokey line deliveries. Costars Coco and Ken Howard, both of
whom appeared in Preminger’s awful Tell
Me That You Love Me, Junie Moon (1970), have funny moments playing
unforgivably sexist characters, and model-turned-actress Jennifer O’Neill is
lovely but vapid as a friend with a secret. As for poor Luckinbill, his role is
so colorless that he’s a non-presence.
Such Good Friends: FUNKY
Burgess Meredith naked cannot have been a fun thing for audiences in 1971. Or ever.
ReplyDeleteWow ... You know you're in for a bumpy ride when the film opens with a pampered Cannon, peeved at her African-American maid's slow responsiveness, kvetches within her hearing, "Why in the heck did they ever abolish slavery?!?" ... But luckily, most of the "jokey line deliveries", as you say, aren't quite as offensive as that first one! ... A lot of sound & fury signifying nada, as it were, is soon to follow, however ... Nevertheless, it is certainly a must for Dyan-o-philes like moi! ... Especially the photo session, where as with Blow-Up, one rather gets the session that the photographer had NOT just reviewed his fashion photography ethics manual, prior to commencing the shoot! ...
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