On the plus side, the
dueling-rednecks picture Lolly-Madonna
XXX features elegant cinematography, an impressive cast, a plaintive score,
and a whopper of a final act filled with bloodshed and tragedy. For fans of
melodramatic pulp, there’s a lot to savor in this fictional story that vaguely
evokes the Hatfield-McCoy mythos. Nonetheless, the film’s weaknesses are
plentiful. The basic premise is awkward and contrived, the middle of the movie
is dull and uneventful, and many of the character relationships stretch
credibility to the breaking point. One can feel the filmmakers trying to push
all the pieces in place for a spectacular finale, but the elements never cohere
dramatically or logically. Considering that the movie was co-written by future
mystery-fiction queen Sue Grafton, who adapted Lolly-Madonna XXX from her own novel of the same name, it’s fair to
say that Grafton was still learning how to construct plots.
Here’s the iffy
set-up. In backwoods Tennessee, two families have been fighting for years
because one bought a piece of a land that previously belonged to the other. The
Feathers are led by stoic patriarch Laban (Rod Steiger), while the Gutshalls
answer to the highly principled Pap (Robert Ryan). One day, the Gutshall boys
leave a postcard in the Feather mailbox, indicating that a young woman named
Lolly Madonna is scheduled to arrive in the region, with plans to marry one of
the Gutshall boys. The Feathers head to the bus station and kidnap a young woman named Roonie Gill (Season Hubley), whom they mistakenly believe is Lolly
Madonna. In reality, there is no such woman, and the postcard was a ruse to get
the Feathers away from their moonshine operation so the Gutshalls could
vandalize the still. Despite Roonie’s vehement objections, the Feathers refuse
to believe she’s not the intended bride of a Gutshall, so they try to leverage
her as a hostage. Somehow, even though Roonie has no actual relationship with
the Gutshalls, this scheme exacerbates the rivalry, triggering arson, rape,
theft, and eventually murder. Does any of this hogwash make sense? No.
But
consider the vivacious actors populating the cast. Jeff Bridges. Gary Busey. Ed
Lauter. Randy Quaid. Scott Wilson. Not too shabby. Moreover, director Richard
C. Sarafian does his usual frustrating job, rendering richly textured images
and staging individual scenes well even as he fails to convey a persuasive
overarching story. At least the movie’s final half-hour is memorably grim, and
it’s hard to shake the weird vignettes with Lauter—not only does the tough-guy
actor pretend to give a rockabilly concert performance while standing alone in
a hog pen, but he also plays a rape scene while wearing lingerie and makeup. You
don’t see that sort of thing every day. Oh, and for what it’s worth, Bridges is
terrific, as usual, giving a better performance than the movie probably deserves,
even as Ryan underplays and Steiger thunders for the entertainment of those in
the cheap seats.
Lolly-Madonna XXX: FUNKY
One of the last titles released by the studio before they shuttered their distribution arm. MGM distributed their films through United Artists for the remainder of the decade.
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