Presenting a weird fusion of
modern explicitness and old-fashioned storytelling, the racially charged
melodrama Good Luck, Miss Wyckoff is
interesting not because of cinematic quality—in many ways, it’s an
embarrassingly bad piece of work—but because of its peculiarity. Based on a novel
by William Inge that came out in 1970, the movie would have seemed hip and
provocative if released, in virtually the exact same form, the same year as the
novel. What a difference a decade makes. Arriving at the end of the ’70s, the
film seems stylistically ancient, the acting and camerawork as stiff as
screenwriter Polly Platt’s on-the-nose dialogue, and the sexual stuff, while
still fairly bold for a mainstream movie, lacks the power to truly shock.
Viewed outside of its original historical context, the film fares even worse. Good Luck, Miss Wyckoff is too
well-intentioned to qualify as a so-bad-it’s-good atrocity, and yet it’s also
far too wrongheaded to work as legitimate entertainment.
Set during 1956 in the small town of Freedom,
Kansas—the name of the town accurately indicate the degree of the movie’s
subtlety—Good Luck, Miss Wyckoff
opens by exploring the life of 35-year-old schoolteacher Evelyn Wyckoff (Anne
Heywood). A neurotic virgin, she’s so edgy about her lack of sexual experience
that she has periodic breakdowns and suicidal thoughts. In moments of clarity,
she’s a respected educator and a passionate advocate for progressive causes.
After her physician, Dr. Neal (Robert Vaughn), suggests getting intimate with a
man is the cure for what ails her, Evelyn tries, unsuccessfully, to hook up
with a lecherous bus driver named Ed (Earl Holliman). Meanwhile, she explores
her difficulties with a shrink, Dr. Steiner (Donald Pleasance). And then, almost
completely out of nowhere, a young black janitor named Rafe Collins (John
Lafayette) rapes Evelyn in her classroom. That’s when the story spins in bizarre
directions. Instead of reporting Rafe to authorities, Evelyn becomes his lover,
participating in steadily more humiliating trysts even as the risk of discovery
increases.
Listing everything that rings false about Good Luck, Miss Wyckoff would take quite a while, but, briefly, the
title character’s psychological state defies understanding, the portrayal of
the Rafe character is startlingly racist, and the integration of a Red Scare
subplot doesn’t work. Yet Good Luck, Miss
Wyckoff is weirdly compelling, at least for the cinematically adventurous.
Even though Heywood’s performance is rigid and unbelievable, she’s watchably
odd. Carolyn Jones, late of TV’s The
Addams Family, gives a fine if too-brief turn as Evelyn’s best friend. And
the film’s technical presentation is excellent in a museum-piece sort of way. Rarely have such lurid scenes been captured with such uptight professionalism.
Good Luck, Miss Wyckoff: FUNKY
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