The Lonely Lady.

Review #2150: The Lonely Lady.

Cast: 

Pia Zadora (Jerilee Randall), Lloyd Bochner (Walter Thornton), Bibi Besch (Veronica Randall), Joseph Cali (Vincent Dacosta), Anthony Holland (Guy Jackson), Jared Martin (George Ballantine), Ray Liotta (Joe Heron), Kerry Shale (Walt Thornton, Jr), Sandra Dickinson (Nancy Day), Lou Hirsch (Bernie), Ed Bishop (Doctor Baker), and Shane Rimmer (Adolph Fannon) Directed by Peter Sasdy (#1159 - Taste the Blood of Dracula)

Review: 

I didn't have this film initially in mind for Turkey Week 4, you know. I thought to myself, hey, what was the next film adaptation of Jacqueline Susann's works after Valley of the Dolls (1967). Well, The Love Machine (1971) did seem like an idea, but I found my way to something that might as well be part of it all. The Lonely Lady was a novel released to stores in 1976 by the hands of Harold Robbins. He dedicated the book to Susann (who had died in 1974). Robbins was notable as a writer in his own right, of course; born and raised in New York to Jewish emigrants, he served in the U.S. Navy for a time before going on to work a variety of jobs that even included Universal Pictures. He started writing in 1948 and basically wrote melodramas for the rest of his life, which would see various film adaptations that went from King Creole (released in 1958, after changing the title from the book) to The Adventurers (1970) to The Betsy (1978). He was the kind of racy book writer that lived a life so colorful that had people such as Stephen King say didn't want to end up like him as a "nightmare". Needless to say, Robbins led a strange life that probably would've made for its own film, even if he liked to fib about his upbringing; he died at the age of 81 in 1997. And then there's Pia Zadora. Born in Hoboken, New Jersey to a violinist and wardrobe supervisor, she actually was an actor from a young age, which included what else but Santa Claus Conquers the Martians (1964). She later married Meshulam Riklis, who wanted to push her as an actress, complete with financing from his company. This would culminate in Butterfly (1982), a film that saw her get critical savaging and a "Newcomer" Golden Globe. Fake-Out (1982) isn't even remembered as the follow-up, because, well, the next one was this film. It all aligns together because Riklis helped out the logjam that Universal Pictures had when it came to doing a film based on that Robbins book that had stalled for years despite having Susan Blakely in mind to star. The eventual screenplay credit went to John Kershaw and Shawn Randall with a story credit for Ellen Shepard. Peter Sasdy never directed another theatrical film after this failure, which had the dubious honor of having an ad campaign lead by John J.B. Wilson, the guy behind the Golden Raspberry Awards who "liked" what he saw (Zadora apparently said that receiving a nomination but not winning would've been something she "hated" - take one guess how that worked out). Robbins called the film crap but liked the fact he received $600,000 before it opened.

I should mention that Zadora called the film a turkey upon release. She had one more star role in her with the B-flick sci-fi musical Voyage of the Rock Aliens (1984) and has since been more known for her musical career. It is kind of like watching a perverted cousin of The Oscar (1967), another film involving an awards ceremony setup (but that one had the actual Oscar statuette). It actually is a short film at 92 minutes, and if you avert your eyes as the ridiculous amount of sex scenes, it is even shorter, unless one really needed to see a guy shoot a pool ball at a naked woman on a table. I think the preening title song has the most life next to Zadora when it comes to such ridiculously lowkey acting around it all. Holland is probably the only "normal" person in the film, which includes plenty of perverts and lurid attempts at hard-hitting dialogue that has the impact of light cat scratching. Bochner and Cali might as well be mailing it in from downtown. Zadora may have been the target of criticism because, well, title character, but who could have helped this film? She really tries to show the trouble and toil that come with an industry that seems to value the body of a woman over a body of work and where it can lead someone to go down the road of shame. Of course, skin showing aside, there is nothing for anyone to grab on to because the dynamics of the film are skewed into lame soap opera with no sense of dignity or interest. For a "writer", you see exactly one line of dialogue that she suggests, which really can apply to dubious choices of any kind: "Why?". I can't tell what is most embarrassing in the opening sequence: Zadora supposed to be playing a high schooler among other near 30-somethings or, well, the garden hose moment. The fact that the particular sequence has Ray Liotta (a future member of being in even worse material than this) making his debut is probably a testament that if you can make it there, you can...escape to anywhere. The movie dives into the mud early, puts oil all over said mud and decides lighting a match would be better than the garden hose to top it off. Calling the film silly trash is actually a bigger joke than you think, because this is the kind of movie you show to someone who thought Valley of the Dolls lacked that cheesy factor. The closing sequence takes the cake for such empty dramatic heft that Zadora gamely tries to make stick, for better and certainly for worse. I especially like how she just leaves the ceremony to no one around, as if the film was about to hang itself in shame. The points that the film that stop one from going all "zero stars" is mostly on her shoulders, because the script and director failed her most of all. As a whole, it is a lurid and ridiculously terrible time to spend for all the reasons you would expect, but Zadora at least seems like she deserved better than the reviews of the time gave her. It isn't the worst of anything, but if you love some Hollywood trash, you have something to consider.

Overall, I give it 3 out of 10 stars.

Once more on Turkey Week, let's consider some religion. The Left Behind (2014) kind.

Saturday Night Fever.

Review #1456: Saturday Night Fever.

Cast: 
John Travolta (Anthony "Tony" Manero), Karen Lynn Gorney (Stephanie Mangano), Barry Miller (Bobby C.), Joseph Cali (Joey), Paul Pape (Double J.), Donna Pescow (Annette), Bruce Ornstein (Gus), Val Bisoglio (Frank Manero, Sr.), Julie Bovasso (Flo Manero), and Martin Shakar (Frank Manero, Jr.) Directed by John Badham (#086 - Short Circuit and #1293 - Dracula)

Review: 
"My mother was an acting teacher. She taught more of the existentialist style, which was that acting is believing that you're in the moment with the other actor, and I like that. I'm more comfortable portraying what I'm feeling at the moment and not knowing what I'm going to do next."
Some films are just made to endure for their era, for better or worse. The film was inspired by a story in New York magazine called "Tribal Rites of the New Saturday Night", written by Nik Kohn as a supposed detailing of the disco scene of the time (it was revealed two decades later to be a lie by Kohn, with the lead focus being inspired by a person in the mod culture that he knew in the 1960s). It should only figure that this was the film that helped John Travolta become a major star. The son of a tire salesman and an actress/teacher, he had dropped out of high school at 17 to do work in the stage (such as starring in a small role with a touring production of Grease). In 1975 (at the age of 21), he caught a break with a role in Welcome Back, Kotter, which he appeared on for four seasons. The film was produced by Robert Stigwood, a music entrepreneur along with film producer behind managing groups such as the Bee Gees along with film productions like Grease (1978) and Gallipoli (1981).
Another person who was helped by the success of this film was John Badham, who had done plenty of television work earlier in the decade and one previous theatrical film (The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings) that found his way into the film after John G. Avildsen was fired due to creative differences before shooting.

It's funny, for a film so popular like this one, I am surprised that there were actually two versions of this film that were put into theaters. With such a vibrant soundtrack and diverting dance sequences, it could almost be easy to forget the grimy realism that permeates throughout this 119 minute film. In response to the youth response to the soundtrack, Paramount Pictures released a PG-rated edit of the film two years later, which de-emphasized/cut out sequences involving profanity (some involving racial epithets said by some of the characters involving Puerto Ricans) along with references to drugs and a car scene near the end of the film (which involved the rape of one character along with the attempt of another character), with the end result being a 109 minute film. The version I watched was the director's cut, which re-incorporated two deleted scenes into the original film. If one looked at the film without the disco elements, what you see is a film wrapped with the question of what it means to try and live a life beyond the dance floor. One can't dance in a night club or hang out near a bridge talking the same jokes or things forever - in other words, we have to grow up sometime and do some sort of thing with our life beyond the little things we think is all to living. In this sense, Travolta does a tremendous job with making a fascinating lead to follow, a riveting and generally charming performance when on screen - whether on the dance floor or when dealing with the long and winding road of trying to grow up beyond Brooklyn. The others match up fine with making the moments in and out of the dance floor feel real enough, with Gorney and Miller leading the pack with fairly compelling turns when paired with Travolta wherever it wants to go. Although it is a film very much of its era (with fashion and disco, which had a decline in popularity just two years after release), it is a film with a basic foundation that can still apply today with a catchy beat, impactful moments of realism and a tremendous star turn for Travolta that makes it a worthy film to seek out then and now.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.