Cast:
Dolly Read (Kelly MacNamara), Cynthia Myers (Casey Anderson), Marcia McBroom (Petronella Danforth), John LaZar (Ronnie "Z-Man" Barzell), Michael Blodgett (Lance Rocke), David Gurian (Harris Allsworth), Edy Williams (Ashley St. Ives), Erica Gavin (Roxanne), Phyllis Davis (Susan Lake), Harrison Page (Emerson Thorne), Duncan McLeod (Porter Hall), James Iglehart (Randy Black), Charles Napier (Baxter Wolfe), and Henry Rowland (Otto) Directed by Russ Meyer (#1420 - Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! and #1872 - Motorpsycho)
Review:
"A soap opera for young people, a cornocopia of wild, way-out now entertainment." - Russ Meyer
"I think of it as an essay on our generic expectations. It's an anthology of stock situations, characters, dialogue, clichés and stereotypes, set to music and manipulated to work as exposition and satire at the same time; it's cause and effect, a wind-up machine to generate emotions, pure movie without message." - Roger Ebert
Remember Valley of the Dolls (1967)? That was the movie adaptation of Jacqueline Susann's novel that was a magnificent failure that the author literally knew was crap from the first time she saw it on a cruise premiere. It was a goofy movie, but it was a popular film when it came to "hey, got another idea?" There was an idea to do one potentially with Susann involved (who else could come up with a title idea like this?) complete with her husband producer Irving Mansfield involved somewhere. But, well, things go awry sometimes, so it fell into the hands of others. Of course, Susann had other things to focus on, since her book The Love Machine was turned into a film in 1971. Richard Zanuck of 20th Century Fox came upon Meyer because (in Meyer's words), "If a klutz like that can make a film that successfully and that attractive for $69,000, you ought to throw him a bone." Meyer had followed the 1965 trilogy of Mudhoney-Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!-Motorpsycho with a handful of exploitation films to go with others involving a mockumentary (Mondo Topless) and melodramas. Of course, one needs a writer to help go with Meyer and his ideas. Enter Roger Ebert (the future winner of a Pulitzer Prize for Criticism), who was a fan of Meyer since seeing The Immoral Mr. Teas (1959), which played for a few years in a theater in his hometown. They wrote a treatment in a number of days and a script a few weeks afterwards. Apparently, the characters of folks such as "Z-Man" were based on loose ideas of what Meyer and Ebert heard of real-life people, with that character being a take on Phil Spector (they didnt know him, but, well...). The climax came out of the blue when it came to a certain famous string of murders in August 1969. Fox released two X-rated films of note that year: this film and Myra Breckinridge (1970), which came out within a week of each other. The irony is pretty stunning: both movies are widely thought of as diversions from literary origins (if we are being technical about Susann here), both were made by people not particularly friendly with the studio system, both had critics in key roles of production (Rex Reed in the other, Ebert here), both had their share of vicious reviews, but only Beyond is remembered fondly. Meyer would do one more studio film with The Seven Minutes (1971), which was actually a courtroom drama about obscenity cases while Ebert would write for two more Meyer films.
Oh, I suppose there was a bit of controversy about the film being an X-rated feature released as a wry parody of that Susann book that she didn't like very much or something. Apparently when Meyer heard about the X rating (he and the studio were aiming for R, and the rating today probably would've been around there), he wanted to include more footage of sex and nudity, but the studio didn't have time. The film was a wild success with audiences (compared to its budget of under $1 million, it made ten times that) but was a critical target by, well, people who must have had Easy Rider (1969) still up their nose. This amuses me, because Beyond the Valley of the Dolls smashes Valley of the Dolls into a fine pulp in literally every sense of the word: actors that actually seem ready to give a crap about doing their job for their director, entertainment value for what it is rather than to giggle at the attempts of execution, and, well, you get the idea. Thank heavens that this film has a cult following, because it sure as hell deserves it more than that plastic boredom of the 1967 film (incidentally, when Criterion wanted to give Beyond a Blu-Ray release, Fox only budged after many years when they had them do a deal to release Valley on there as well). It is a brutally fun movie because the actors are giving it there all in handling the chaos of the moment that does not let you linger on something for very long. This is a movie that involves a handful of things to note: an opening title sequence ending with a gun in someone's mouth, a nude woman all in black, actual dialogue of "BENTLEY!", and, well, a man in a Nazi outfit. Aside from Napier (first seen in film with Meyer's Cherry, Harry & Raquel! (1969)- full frontal no less), none of the names present here would become regular presences in films. And yet, we have a spectacular experience because of them and how they handle the lurid world of exaggerations that only seems sensible to have a scene where someone dresses up as Robin from the 60s Batman series. They were directed where Meyer wanted them to not know the lines were meant to be funny because it would ruin the effect. Read was a Playboy pinup with no starring roles in film before or since this film, but you never get the feeling you are watching a boring amateur. Okay, maybe from Gurian, but he at least is meant to be a square so the things that happen to him is worth admission. Blodgett has the face and timing of a man there to make a hustle and he sells it right for the moment needed at the end. These are folks in their element, which namely is soap opera manic energy of sex, drugs, and whatever you would call rock and roll here. McLeod (with a character named for a known actor) makes a quality cad square in the mix. LaZar might as well be playing a devil figure with how he maneuvers through chaos and curiosity in a manner that is fit strangely well in the modern sense. When the climax finally does hit, it is as "spur of the moment" as it comes for all the glory needed. Describing it just doesn't do justice, because it really is quite the thing to see for oneself. The narration at the end to go with a wedding is only the cherry on top of the wind-up machine of masterful manipulation. The film is one where you have to see it to believe such vision cam be done uninhibited with its own type of unique chaos that could only come once in a blue moon. When it comes to wild films that actually mean what they want to do, why would you not pick this one among the first group? It endures for a half century because it rules hard as a midnight movie that chews up the showbiz tale and spits out gold that only a regular film viewer could love.
Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.
Review #1498: The Silence of the Lambs.