Try though they may, the miniseries powers-that-be could not milk the Alex Haley machine dry. After "Roots" came "Roots: The Next Generation" and then that odd little Christmas movie. But, that was all just one branch of his family. "Alex Haley's Queen" (the official title, as to separate it from "Queenie," which is another miniseries completely, or even "Halle Berry's Queen," which it no doubt would have been called if she had done this later in her career--as late as 1993, we still had authors who were stars, especially a beloved one recently deceased) runs up the tree to grab the branch of his paternal grandmother.
This is a prestige miniseries very late in the genre's arc, right near the end, almost the last of its kind. There would be romance and adventure miniseries peppering the 1990s, but "War and Remembrance" had pretty much not only killed the historical miniseries, but then kicked around the corpse for a few extra hours. World War II had been done ad nauseum and with the growth of cable, the miniseries was no longer a guaranteed event. Unless, of course, someone went way back in the miniseries history and pulled up Alex Haley. He had written other books after "Roots" and "Roots" still held a special place in the collective hearts of America. So, "Roots" begot "Alex Haley's Queen" nearly a decade and a half later. The cast list is impressive. Everyone seems to have wanted in on this one. If there was another "Roots" in the making, who would say no?
"Alex Haley's Queen" is certainly no "Roots." The story is nowhere near as potent, interesting or epic. It's narrowed by a few generations (and a lot of hours) and tells the story of Haley's grandmother Queen from her birth soon before the Civil War and long after. This is not the story of slavery, though that dominates the first third of the movie. This is the story of a half white-half black woman trying to struggle through the racial minefields of the last third of the 19th Century. It's lacks the freshness of the "Roots" saga, and it's a story told many times by many different people. It also falls apart completely in the final 45 minutes or so, but it's strong enough up until then to withstand too much criticism.
However, it's unfair to compare anything to "Roots," because "Roots" is sui generis, the apex of the genre. Looking at "Alex Haley's Queen" for its own merits, one will find plenty. All of those stars actually give heartfelt performances and the writing is excellent (except when it turns preachy, because the story itself is strong enough that we don't need to be hit over the head with it). In the central role, there isn't a trauma Halle Berry doesn't endure, but she is forced to play Queen as a bit too innocent, which at times makes her seem less a character than a symbol. She does fine work, no doubt about it, but the standouts tend to be the supporting cast members, from a surprisingly touching Ann-Margaret to a strong Lorraine Toussaint and, most notably, Tim Daly in his finest television performance. Patricia Clarkson and Frances Conroy, early in their careers also, are damn fine villains.
A bunch of black women are doing the laundry in a river where three white men want to bathe, scaring the women out by shooting above their heads. The women are saved by James Jackson (Tim Daly), who is compassionate to his slaves. "We don't make sport with our slaves...I will make you sorry if you ever bother one of our slaves again," he says bravely before having to fight the other three, and losing badly. "That's how it is with nigger lovers," the horrible men cackle as Tim hops up, all black and blue. His own slave, Cap'n Jack (Paul Winfield) didn't do anything to help his master, but even a kindly slave owners is still a slave owner.
James' favorite slave is Easter (Jasmine Guy), the slave who tried to protect the women working before James arrived. "Whatever would I do without you?" James asks Easter as she applies salve to his body. He's about the only one in his family who has that attitude. His father, James Jackson Sr. (Martin Sheen), quips that whites are the last to know any local gossip and his mother, Sally (Ann-Margaret) and her friend Mrs. Perkins (Charlotte Moore) laugh dutifully at said quip. Mrs. Perkins is only around because it's expected that her daughter Lizzie (Patricia Clarkson) will marry James. Lizzie calls Easter horrible names and slaps her when Easter isn't dainty enough with her shawl. We know that marriage won't happen!
There's a lot of ado because of an approaching grand marriage. Everyone is expected to go and Cap'n Jack asks James Sr. if his daughter Easter can go, and James Sr. says she can tend to the ladies. He hands Cap'n Jack the invitation to read and Cap'n Jack dryly notes, "I can't read. You know it ain't legal," but both know he reads very well. James Sr. then gives his son a list of "eligible heiresses," with Lizzie at the top of the list, but James Jr. is uninterested in her. He says he doesn't love her, which causes James Sr. to launch into a story about how he didn't love Sally when he married her, but he came to (which has her smiling listening at the door). When James tells Easter she can go to the wedding, they fall in a heap of laughter and laundry like any two young no-doubt-soon-to-be-lovers.
As everyone congregates for the wedding, there are two receiving lines, one for the whites and one for the blacks. The camera pans out wide to show how long both lines are and how well the whites have dressed their slaves. Naturally, at the wedding, the two colors are not allowed to mix, but at the party, they actually do. Kind of. Both colors are on the floor at the same time, but they stay completely with colors of the same, until Easter by accident gets tangled with a white man. "Does anyone own this girl?" he barks. James wants to claim her, but instead has Easter and Cap'n Jack follow him outside. He wants to console her, but Lizzie comes and asks for the next dance.
James Sr. is dying. He calls Cap'n Jack to him and gives him his freedom, having promised it to him years before. Cap'n Jack refuses and James is baffled, but Cap'n Jack reminds him of a time he asked for his freedom to marry his love and James kept him and sold the woman. "What would I do, where would I go?" Cap'n James says, but not because he feels any devotion to the family. In fact, he tells James honestly that he's staying only so that every time James looks at him, he'll remember how he broke his promise and messed up his life. The distinction is clear: there is no distinction. A man who owns slaves is a bad man, no matter what is in his heart. James basically confesses as much to Sally, but it's too late.
Hunky James Jr. is swimming naked when Easter sits to watch. They argue about Lizzie again. "You got the fever for her," Easter says, before running off with his clothes. She wants James to promise to visit more often and she'll give him his clothes back, but Cap'n Jack saves the day to bring James Jr. to his dying father. The old man dies holding onto Cap'n Jack's hand and no other.
For succor, James goes to Easter's cabin. Besides being his true friend, this particular night she looks awfully fetching in her nightgown and hair down. They are soon kissing and making love in front of the fire. It's a tender love scene, not the kind of master-slave union we've read about so often that comes from horny white men doing what they believed was their right to do. This is real passion, real emotion. The scene is handled in a way too soapy fashion with slow motion and barely lit limbs moving around each other, but it's important to show how real the love is.
"Love will come later. Duty must come first," Sally tells her son in yet another attempt to get him to marry Lizzie once and for all. He agrees, but later that night, gazing at the stars with Easter, he finds out she's pregnant. He's so sweet, he's concerned about the pain of labor as his first reaction. Nine months later, she indeed feels that pain as she gives birth to a daughter. On the very night James proposes to Lizzie. He has to do the right thing and marry a white woman, no matter what he's done with a black one.
Cap'n Jack knows just what he's doing when he interrupts dinner, where the topic is, of course, miscegenation, to announce that a slave child has just been born and "Easter is doing just fine." Lizzie figures out what it all means and refuses to marry James, but her mother convinces her otherwise. Sally goes to visit the new baby and tells James that, "she won't have any easy life. She looks as white as you or I," giving him the family book. James enters Easter's name in the book as the mother, but leaves the father column blank. He then names the child Queen. He goes to visit Queen, proudly holding her and inquiring about the labor while holding Easter's hand, announcing he's proposed to Lizzie. He's a product of his time, no matter how good his intentions.
At the wedding, Queen is being cooed over by everyone, including Sally, but only because she'll make a good lady's maid. James is forced to endure a conversation with his father-in-law about the issue of abolition. We'll table that for now, but don't worry, we'll be back.
Queen grows up to become Raven-Symone. Cap'n Jack teaches her to read and makes up stories about her father, but Easter just wants her to knows she's nothing but a slave. "You go on and dream. You let that child be," Easter tells her father when he starts talking about the end of slavery. James looks out for her from afar. He's there when the black children taunt her for being white and learning to read, and even gives her a few books. When Lizzie becomes pregnant, he decides Queen should be the child's slave. Easter is no happier about it than Sally or Lizzie. He feels it will give Queen a better life, but no one else is convinced. Lizzie is so mad about it that when Easter shows up with Queen, she not only barks that they should have used the back door, but since Queen is going to be raised right (aka white), "when you see her, keep your distance. I don't want her learning the Negro ways." Ouch! She joins the Miniseries Evil Hall of Fame with that one!
Queen (now Halle Berry) does grow up with advantages, though always a few feet behind her half-sister Jane (Jane Krakowski). Time has done nothing to dim Lizzie's hatred for Queen. On the eve of the Civil War, Jane and Queen are accosted by soldiers. Jane likes the flirtation, but when one grabs and kisses Queen, Jane steps in. "How dare you kiss my slave," she says and the soldier is horrified because he had no idea she was anything but white. Though Jane seems to enjoy having a constant companion, she too has proper Southern lines drawn into her subconscious. "You're just an itty bitty raggedy slave, who's gonna marry you?" she chirps when they discuss what they want in a potential husband. And Queen has to sleep in a pull-out bed at the foot of Jane's enormous four-poster.
After a very weird encounter with Sally (which serves no purpose but to give Ann-Margaret a scene to sink her teeth into), Queen rushes to Easter to ask about her father, the white side of her, but Easter won't say anything. James goes off to fight in the war, the oldest soldier to enlist, I would think. The women of the homestead are upset, but he tells Queen to take care of them. "Pray for him, Queen, he's your pappy," Easter FINALLY reveals.
Sally summons the slaves to tell them that slavery is a good thing. The slaves get fed, clothed and buried by their masters, unlike their poor cousins up North. This scene takes place outside around a fire, with only Sally believing any of the bunk she's spewing, and music approaching "Battle Hymn of the Republic" swells as she prays and a montage of Civil War fighting and dying is shown. It's another bizarre Sally scene, and again, I can only assume no one wanted to waste Ann-Margaret.
After James gets a brave post-battle scene, it's back to the homestead where diphtheria is raging. Jane has it and Lizzie is beside herself. She rages at Easter, slapping her and threatening to sell her. "Get the overseer," she says, but things have gotten so bad, he's gone too. The house slaves have to work in the field, even faithful Parson Dick (Ossie Davis). Sally comes rushing over with a letter and her eyesight is too bad to read (the Civil War lasted only four years, but the characters here seem to age about 20). She begs Queen to read it, as opposed to Lizzie. "You think I want her knowin' my business?" she says. Queen demures, saying it's against the law for her to read. "What's it matter now? Who's gonna whip you for it now?" Sally responds, at least somewhat in touch with the changed world.
The letter is from James, saying he's coming home. She's jubilant in telling Easter, but Easter has a cough which assures us she'll be dead soon (people in miniseries don't ever simply get a cold). Sally says she'll make dinner, but can't even husk corn. "What you gonna do, go out in the field like some Negra woman pickin' cotton? None of us would be here if it wasn't for you. Now it's your time to rest," Easter tells her. Somewhere along the line Sally has become a sympathetic character, which is fine because it gives Ann-Margaret some acting opportunities, but it's rather unexpected.
Queen has Lizzie working in the fields when the old overseer's wife (a howling Linda Hart, having a blast) stops by, horrified that anyone is listening to a slave! But, that's when James arrives home, to find out his daughter Jane has died. It's also the exact time Sally calls for Queen because Easter is dying. By the time James gets to Easter's cabin, she is gone. Sally takes Queen from the shack so James can have a last moment with, "my love."
We keep up with everything that happens when Queen talks to her mother's grave. James shows up while she's doing so and apologizes that Queen has to work so hard because he's so sick. "We love you," she says honestly. He says he wants to go back to war, and once again the women have to bid him goodbye. Sally, Lizzie and Mrs. Henderson sing hymns while tearing up linens to re-use, trying not to listen to the bombs so close that they break the dishes in the cupboard. "Hallelujah," shouts Parson Dick and breaks more. The Yankees show up at the ruined manor to requisition food and cotton. Sally says she will not fight them. "You will not harm us, but you will bankrupt us?" she asks. A tough buzzard, she wants to watch as they destroy her only means of income. "How would you have us live now?" she asks after the soldiers dynamite everything. "I lost two brothers to Johnny Reb. I don't care how you live...or if you live," he says. His men take all the livestock and then the soldiers manhandle Queen. Cap'n Jack tries to stop them and is beaten nearly to death for his trouble. James has an arm amputated. No one is doing well in this monstrous war.
Super-sympathetic Sally comes to encourage Cap'n Jack not to give up on living and once again gives him the freedom papers her husband had drawn up. They even discuss how the two of them conspired to get Sally married to James Sr., a much-needed laugh in their drab existence. He begs Sally not to ever let Queen be sold. She vows never to do so, but Sally tells him all the slaves are about to be free anyway. With that happy realization, he dies.
Parson Dick bolts the place, but Queen refuses to go. "This my home," she tells both him and Sally when they each try to get her to go to a better place. Sally even tries a bit of tough love, telling her they are not her family, never to think of James as her father and to leave, to go with her own people. Queen is left at her mother's grave to cry and wonder what she should do as the first part ends.
James and Mr. Henderson make it home from the war, a lot worse for the wear. James is missing an arm. Not much better are the women at the plantation. Queen has made tea out of acorns for Lizzie and Sally, who have only a few sticks of furniture at home by the time James gets there. James apologizes to his mother when he sees her in a very tender moment, but she's only glad he's home. Lizzie is equally thrilled, but James ignores Queen. A few of the fleeing freed blacks offer to take her with them, but she stays.
James tries to apologize to Queen as well, and offers to pay her, but she says no. He has to. "Slavery is illegal now," he notes sadly. James sells land for a bit of money, but he's going to need more than a little: Lizzie is pregnant again. Not meaning to be obtuse, but appearing so, James hopes it's a girl to replace Jane, because the house feels empty without a little girl. Queen isn't happy about that.
At Henderson's store, Mrs. Henderson is nasty as hell to Queen, giving her less feed than she ordered, charging more, and talking about her sass. The men there make it even worse, but Queen gallops away (without the feed), though the men are just a hair behind her. She luckily falls off her horse and is able to evade the men. However, when she doesn't come home on time, James is worried about where she is. His moments of ignorance and moments of care are a nice dichotomy and make him quite an interesting character. Lizzie is not so tolerant. She says she hopes Queen is gone for good because she knows he loves Queen more than her. "I had to cook dinner last night!" Lizzie snarls when Queen comes home the next day, looking haggard and obviously in trouble. Lizzie has forgotten Queen is no longer a slave. "So ungrateful," Lizzie snaps when Queen announces she's leaving, "after all we've done for you!" "You ain't never done nothin' for me!"
Queen goes to the graves to say goodbye, with Sally upset, but honest. "It ain't enough to be nearly white. Even a little drop of black blood is enough," she tells Queen, letting her know how the world will view her. All she can give her is a handkerchief, the only thing of beauty she has left. "I'll miss you," Sally says sadly as Queen wraps her arms around Sally's legs one last time.
On her way down the dirt road from the house, Queen encounters James, who has been searching all night for her. "Are you sure you want to go?" he asks her. He says he will miss her, his eyes just avoiding hers as he does so, and tells her to write to them. Their father-daughter love is not something they can discuss, so James only says, "remember, there is God in everyone" as a parting tenderness.
Getting onto the coach for Charleston, an elderly woman thinks she's completely white (Halle is light-skinned, but wearing a huge amount of pancake make-up that is not blended well below her chin). "Queen, you is a white girl now," she beams when the woman is excited to have a nice white travel companion. But, not everyone is so blind to her color. She applies for a job doing menial work and the woman hisses that she knows she's black. Queen is forced to steal food just to eat. She joins the line in a soup kitchen, but the man looking at everyone thinks she's white, but picks out a girl a few behind her with black blood and tosses her out.
At the soup kitchen, Queen meets Alice (Lonette McKee, a superb actress and two-time Julie in "Show Boat," so she knows her way around these "passing" roles), who is also assumed white by everyone. She takes Queen under her wing and teaches her how to pass. Frustrated Queen says, "I'm just a mistake." "You ain't a mistake, but you do smell bad," she jokes and gives Queen a relaxing bath, treating her more kindly than anyone else has. Alice admits to sleeping with white men for money, but Queen says she could never do it because she's not pretty. Alice holds up a mirror and tells Queen how beautiful she is.
Alice dolls up Queen and takes her to an all-white dance. She immediately picked by a hunk for a dance and then back at Alice's, admits to having a wonderful time. Alice spent her time with George (Dan Biggers), but Queen is still not up for the whole kept woman thing. Alice says George has a job for her, not sex, but working in a flower shop. That's where she meets Digby (Victor Garber), who buys a rose and then gives it to her.
Digby takes a liking to Queen, who says she's the daughter of a Civil War veteran (as is Digby) and then tells a few lies so he doesn't learn the truth, though Alice says, "every moment you with him, you livin' a lie...he gonna catch you!" She also cautions Queen not to fall in love, "because there's dangers for women like us."
Her new suitor says all the right things. He has done some checking up on her and thinks she's the daughter of a poor Alabama family, saying everyone is different after the war and he then proposes! Yes, after what seems to be only three meetings. A fight between two black men in the street leads to one man being pushed against Digby, who beats the man and hurts epithets. Alice is furious. "What in the world is he going to say when you have babies and a little pickininny pops out...You get out of this as fast as you can!" she berates her, worried that all of them will be ruined should Digby find out the truth.
Resolute in telling Digby the truth, Queen tries, but before she can, Digby tells her, "I've written to your father" and she passes out. When she wakes up, he gives her laudanum. "It's like floatin' on a fluffy pink cloud," he says, kissing her. He unbuttons her blouse and she tries her best to fight him. "I'm nigra!" she finally says, in order to stop her. "Slut!" he replies and slaps her. That's the least of it. He punches her and then rapes her, with the scary line, "you'll get what cheap nigra bitches deserve!" He's now taken over from Lizzie as the movie's most evil character.
She wanders home and Alice is not at all sympathetic. Someone has already thrown a brick through the window. "You're not special, we've all been raped," Alice roars as she packs Queen's clothes and tosses her out. She doesn't want to lose her place with George or her passing lifestyle.
The only place Queen can go is to the outskirts of town where the poor blacks live. But they aren't any friendlier. "You hungry?" the woman at the pot says, seemingly helpful. "Take that, white bitch," she then says hurling the food at her. Queen is hungry, so she eats it off the ground. She also arrives just in time for the Klan to arrive and burn all the homes, killing at least one man in the process (not to mention in slow motion).
Just to make sure she goes through EVERYTHING bad that can happen to a human at one time, she falls into a mud pile. Slavery, beatings, rape, fire, famine and mud. Everything but a plague of locusts follows this poor girl.
Tired and ready to die, she wanders into a black church in the middle of a fiery sermon, screaming "I nigra" like a woman possessed. Joyce (Lorraine Toussaint) gets her a job working for two spinsters (Sada Thompson and Elizabeth Wilson). Quoting the Bible, they promise her fair work and pay, and comment on her excellent teeth. They are true Bible thumpers, doing little else but singing hymns with angelic smiles plastered on their faces. They make sure she goes to church, though they condemn the "African ritual" of her church, telling her to attend with them instead.
Now that life has gone from the lowest of the lowest to even tolerable, it's about time our Queen met a man! That would be Davis (Dennis Haysbert), who comes into the garden one day and offers his services. "I big and I black. If I come knockin' on your door, would you have talked to me?" he asks one spinster when she wonders why he just presumed and came into the garden. He offers a free afternoon and if she likes his work, she can hire him. She agrees. "I wonder, does he know he has a friend in Jesus," she asks Queen, in a line that begs for laughter among the all-too serious surroundings. Queen is interested too, but doesn't realize it. She feeds him a superb dinner, peppering him with questions about his whip marks. He admits he was a handful, but then launches into a speech about "taking charge of his life" and never having to live under a white man's rule again. I hate to say it, but that sort of thing is better handled through action in this story than out-and-out dialogue, which sounds like a textbook. The miniseries is so sturdy in the way it's written, so this is a rare lapse, and probably an inevitable one. I suppose there has to be a degree of preaching.
Davis takes a break one afternoon for a massage from Queen, who asks against about his whip marks, and since she was never whipped, he launches back into a quiet tirade about hate. "It's all there is," he says when Queen tells him not to hate. What do you think she responds? "No, there's love." And then there is love. The kind that happens in a bed with soft candles and even netting to make it all soft and gauzy. This is the first time Queen has had consensual sex and she's talking about having his child in afterglow. He's not thrilled with the idea of having children and she says he doesn't have to marry her if she has one. She lacks self-esteem and he lacks humanity, having had it beaten out of him. This is not a relationship fated to last long. When he gets preachy again, she turns away from him in bed, while the camera pulls up to the ceiling to show them naked through the gauze.
Caught stealing a biscuit, the spinsters literally "tsk tsk" her and send her to her room for violating the Eighth Commandment. They don't realize she's eating for two. She does, for she's already started knitting baby clothes. Joyce forces Queen to tell Davis, who says he'll try to love Queen. "If'n you don't love this girl and cherish her...I'll fix it so you don't give no poor gal no baby again. You know I will," Joyce says, in no uncertain terms. "Now, you can go to him," she instructs Queen.
She leaves the spinsters because she and Davis have agreed to meet and go away together. Joyce wishes her the best and Queen heads over to the train station. But, alas, no Davis. He never shows. Life was nudging Queen a bit too much toward actual happiness for everything to work according to her romantic notions. Another man has disappointed her.
Thinking it's the only option, Joyce takes Queen to get an adoption, but Queen changes her mind and they return to the spinsters. "Queen is lost. All the prayers in Christendom couldn't save her now," Spinster Sada chides, but says it's their duty to take care of the baby, and thus the mother. Joyce says no and tries to take her away, but the spinsters point out that in her condition, she can't really go anywhere else. They banish Joyce from the house and set up Queen, telling her to "remember your prayers tonight!" It ain't a great situation, but it's better than nothing. "Don't let them two old dragons be too hard on you," she says before going to sleep.
Queen still has to do chores, but give her some slack the more pregnant she gets. When Spinster Sada asks her what it feels like, she has a sweet speech about how much she already loves the child and how devoted she will be to it. Spinster Sada says both she and Spinster Elizabeth are jealous as they have never found love and thus never had children. "We spend our lives trying to increase God's family, not ours, but I would give anything in the world to know what it feels like, really feels like, in my heart," Spinster Sada attests.
Then it's birthing time. It's a boy! Both spinsters were hoping for that. They won't let her hold him at first, saying "he's not very dark, he'll get lighter." She wants to name him for his father, but the spinsters have him baptized as Abner. The ladies are a little too into the baby, even asking Queen to breastfeed in front of them because they like to watch anything related to the baby. The sight of Sada Thompson singing a hymn as Halle Berry nurses and rolls her eyes is a welcome comedic moment.
Late one night, the ladies try to take Abner to their room, thinking it's better, "the promise of salvation." She screams at them that they want him because they are old and dried up, and she wins, keeping the baby for the moment. "You will regret this," she's told as she grabs the cradle. Queen goes off to her preacher, who tells her the truth, that since the women are white and she's black. It's a hard thing to hear, but she knows it's true. When she finds the spinsters with a preacher discussing putting him up for foster care through the church, she takes the baby and plans to run. She better do it quickly, because the preacher is telling the spinsters to have her committed to an asylum. Queen takes Abner in the middle of the night and leaves, promising a better life. Thus ends the second part of the story.
Ever-resilient, Queen finds her way to a tavern where Mrs. Benson (Frances Conroy) is eating alone. The woman running the joint tries to make Queen sit in the back, but Mrs. Benson invites Queen to join her. She offers Queen a job as a wet nurse. She has one who is "uppity and her milk is a little sour," and she wants a replacement. Before Queen agrees, she makes sure that Mrs. Benson isn't a Jesus freak. "I don't believe you Negroes have souls," Mrs. Benson says with a laugh. Done, Queen is in. Slur or no slur, she'll take the job as long as the Lord isn't hanging around.
Mrs. Benson is prejudice in equality. Not only does she find blacks to be without souls, but she will not spend money in a "Semitic" grocery store. As she's picking apart everyone along the street, Queen sees Davis giving a rabble-rousing speech in the town square to get the blacks to strike. The white men in town arrest them, but the warrant is not signed and the judge releases them, knowing they technically have the same rights as whites. The judge knows that, but the white men in town don't and vow to bring him down.
Queen shows up at Davis' house, hoping that she can get him to take responsibility for her and the child, and the only way he can stop the torrent of words and fists is to have sex with her. "I'd ask you to stay, but it ain't safe," he tells Queen, because he's a marked man. With Queen at Davis', Mrs. Benson has had to deal with her own crying baby all night and she's not happy. In a surprise move, she sends Queen to Davis' to warn him that the Klan is coming to him. That is until we see her holding Abner on her balcony and smiling as the Klansmen chase Queen unnoticed to Davis', now knowing where he's hiding out.
Queen returns to Mrs. Benson's. "Abner is doing the Lord's work tonight," Mrs. Benson tells her, but Queen doesn't understand. Ah, Mrs. Benson, now taking over from the last 25 people the title of the Most Evil Character, is a female member of the Klan (they didn't do the dirty work) and she has given the Klan Abner to take to Davis'. Now that's wicked, truly repulsive. As they hold the baby, they lynch and burn Davis. Queen arrives in daylight to see his scorched body still hanging from the tree, with Abner in a box at his feet, still alive. This segment nails American race relations, the whole history of it, right there. It's chilling.
It's time to hit the road again. Queen seems a bit deadened to life now, having experienced every atrocious act that can be committed upon one person. She gets on a ferry run by Alec Haley (Danny Glover), a very nice man with a son, Henry, hoping to head "north." Queen doesn't disembark because she doesn't have the money for the ride she's taken. She promises to pay him back and he jokes that of course, he just "doesn't know how much interest to charge." She's in no joking mood after what she's been through.
He tracks Queen down to a maid job she does and she doesn't give into his kindness. She doesn't understand it. Everyone who at first seemed kind has always disappointed her. The job is at Mr. Cherry's (George Grizzard), another man who seems nice at first, even though he's holding a Bible, which in her mind marks him as evil. He admits to being "an abolitionist who kept slaves," saying that after emancipation the slaves stayed on as employees. At a dinner party at Mr. Cherry's, Queen spills water on a white lady, who berates her. Queen explodes, yelling at the woman and telling her she may have black blood in her as well. One of her fellow employees tells her to lose the hate routine and let someone in with love. Queen isn't ready yet.
Dora (Madge Sinclair) finishes that harangue and follow it up with one aimed at Alec. She insists, though he refuses, that he is indeed looking for a new wife and mother for his son. A little matchmaking can't hurt. Abner runs off to Alec's place and a frantic Queen finds him there on Alec's knee telling him a "story written by a fine old man named Aesop." Rather than be grateful, she unleashes her temper on him. For the umpteenth time, she says as soon as she has the money, she'll be on her way. Alec does a smart thing and offers her a second job running his house at night. He watches her through the window with a smile and a laugh.
Queen asks Mr. Cherry for Saturdays off so she can work the other job, but still expecting to be paid since she's doing the same amount of work. Mr. Cherry wants to be fair, to pay her only when she's working. Finally, Alec forces her to sit down and listen to him. "If you think you can live in a glass case with that boy all your life, you're a fool, woman," he chides her. It actually penetrates. Perhaps she's getting tired of carrying around so much hate. She takes a seat in his dead wife's rocking chair and this starts a conversation, a pleasant one, though a short one. Hey, it's a start.
Both Mr. Cherry and Dora are surprised to find Queen going about her chores while singing. At Alec's, she bonds with Henry, who doesn't want to stay in school in order to earn money as a sharecropper. Then comes this whopper out of Queen: "Instead of wakin' up each morning saying 'I hate it,' why not wake up each morning and say, 'I like it?'" That's a personality change so fast one wonders what the hell kind of pills she's taking. I know we've got only an hour to wrap this movie up, but damn, that was a quick transformation! She's now comfortable sitting on the porch and quips (yes, quips) that she will have to stay with him a long time to earn enough money ever to leave. They hold hands.
Queen marries Alec, with Mr. Cherry to give her away. It's a lovely church wedding and they even jump the broom, and old slave custom that was used to signify marriage that the white people didn't understand. Queen gives birth to a son named Simon. This baby is born with smiles and love.
The years fly by and Simon's teacher tells Queen that Simon should stay in school because he is smart, loves to learn and does not belong in the fields sharecropping. He tells his mother he wants to stay in school and "maybe even go to college." She tries to get Alec to agree to let him stay in school, but he needs him on the farm. She throws one of her girlish tantrums, though they have now started to use the age make-up on her, and Alec gives in. Simon can go to school, but he has to work for the book money. "Don't you get no ideas about leaving," she tells Abner. She makes him promise never to leave her.
Simon makes money in the oldest profession: selling lemonade by the roadside. Two white boys come for some and a fight starts when they refuse to pay. Queen drags Simon to the boy's house to get the money for the lemonade and when he calls her a nigger, she slaps him and calls him trash. Queen stands firm, though the boy's mother defends her son. Luckily, the father comes along and pays the money. This episode seems to exist for Emmy-grabbing purposes (and to echo "Roots"). Queen unleashes years of pent-up anger on the white woman, starting from her white father and going all the way up to the present, the money they are owed for the lemonade. Simon manages to get her to come home, but something inside her has clearly broken. "I scared," she tells Alec. "I scared of me." Obviously her happy pills have worn off.
Queen takes her sons to the plantation where she was born to show them where she grew up. She arrives just as a funeral is taking place, the funeral of her father. That's a bit too sudsy, no? The miniseries is falling apart in its last hour seemingly just to add time. Queen shows her boys the grave of her mother, the house where she lived and then the big house. Guess who is there? Yup, the first Most Evil Character in the story, Lizzie, descending the stairs with a glass of wine in hand to tell Queen one more time that she doesn't belong and never did.
Simon graduates from school with the top honors ever in Savannah in a joyous ceremony with a band and dancing and all. His teacher asks to speak to Queen alone, to tell her Simon deserves to go to college. Queen is convinced, but Alec isn't. "We still think like slaves," she tells her husband, telling him that the future is different from their life. This would be Queen #2, the cranky-but-lovable personality, somewhere between Queen #1, the angry one and Queen #3, the strangely "scared" one who rocks in a chair oddly.
Anyway, everyone thinks Simon should go to college. Mr. Cherry thinks so and even Henry thinks so, because he's no damn good as a farmer. Finally, Alec agrees. "I am sending you to normal school and you better do good," he rails and then tells him to stay away from women. Simon is given $50. "Most fool thing I ever done," he mutters to himself. Queen is thrilled, but Abner isn't. He wants to go away too, but she's holding onto him too tightly. He wants to go up North, and she tells him he doesn't know how to do anything and to put the thoughts out of his mind. Just when he convinces Alec to let him go, Queen #3, the crazy one, blurts out the truth that Alec isn't Abner's father. That upsets both men. Alec rides away on his horse.
In a tizzy, Queen sets herself on fire accidentally. She runs out of the house and is found by neighbors still trying to put the fire out. I guess this is Queen #4, batshit crazy, the kind played as a drooling hag in most movies.
In a completely unnecessary turn of events, Queen is committed to an asylum straight jacketed, water torture and all. I'm not sure this is the place to go into the horrors of 19th Century mental health treatments, true story or not. It's certainly way too late in the movie for such a plot twist. "I ain't mad," she tells Alec when he visits. Honestly, the writing is so different in this section, and so sloppy, it's as if it's been written by someone new.
Queen summons Mr. Cherry for a visit, asking him for $50 so Abner can go away and live the life he wants. He is glad to lend her the money and "as for paying it back, we'll worry about that another time," he says to her. Now Queen #1, or maybe Queen #2 with a bit of #1, returns. She insists on going home. Why? Leaving all the shrieking mad people in the hovel hell house? "I ain't that sick. I got a few demons in me. I don't suppose they will ever go away, but I'm not a danger to anyone, except maybe me," she says, which sounds pretty damn rational. The doctor tries to reason with her, telling her it's 50 miles and she can't even tie her shoes, but she insists. She wants to say goodbye to her sons, even if it means coming back. Silently, the doctor bends down to tie her shoes. Oh, for crying out loud!
Alec comes to pick her up and she looks better. They have done her hair and given her fresh clothes to wear. And her shoes are tied, of course. They have even scraped away some of the age make-up to make her look a bit more Halle Berry ravishing (not that much, but a bit more). Queen gives Abner a parting e speech to beat the band, telling him he's always loved and he can always come home.
"I'll just have to make do with you then," she teases Alec and tells him the story of her early years as they sit on the porch rocking. "Who'd have known that my prince on the white horse wouldn't have no horse, but a ferry crossing the river?" she says to her smiling husband as grip hands again.
For James, to learn his Haley authors properly.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Lace (1984)
"Which one of you bitches is my mother?"
With the exception of Kunte Kinte naming of himself in "Roots," and I think that's a distant second, the above line is THE most famous and well-known piece of dialogue to come from an American miniseries.
Ah, "Lace." "Lace" itself seems to have burrowed into the collective minds of people who watched long-play format television in the 1980s as the one they seem to remember the most. Based on Shirley Conran's novel, it is easily the cheesiest, easily the most ridiculous, easily the looniest and easily the most fun that can be had. "Lace" is a romance miniseries of the highest degree, thought it veers off into creating its own sub-genre of out-and-out miniseries camp. Phoebe Cates gives a Hall of Fame performance of a lifetime so unique that it basically made her unusable again so as not to dare tarnish it, as a world-famous personality on the most insane quest to find one's self in miniseries history. There is glitz, melodrama, tears, marabou and sublime overacting enough in "Lace" that it can make one forget Jaclyn Smith in her Sidney Sheldon roles, all of the Kennedys and, yes, even Polly Bergen's drunken antics in the Herman Wouk productions.
"You've got to climb Mount Everest to reach the Valley of the Dolls," Anne Welles says in that movie, considered the ne plus ultra of camp cinema. The same applies to "Lace." This is the pinnacle of miniseries glee. It is the most preposterous of miniseries and that's why it's one of the favorites.
The best way to start is just to start. From the very beginning, the level of madness is so high, we can't possibly lose.
The melodrama is obvious from the credits. A very expensive car drives through Alpine splendor with a full orchestra blaring with overzealous intent. In the car, we see only pieces of a veiled woman smoking a cigarette. The woman in the veil is Phoebe Cates. The ruin she drives up to is a former school that has been closed, with scandal attached to the headmaster. "And she was a student here?" she asks of her driver, who informs her that yes, it is thought her unknown mother was a student there. "But we must get back to Paris. The old woman has all the answers," he says as Phoebe tosses her cigarette out the window.
As she steps out of the car in Paris, in front of Notre Dame, no less, the gawking tourists all turn their focus to her. We hear expected chatter like, "it's Lili! What's she doing here" along less expected chatter like, "and with her clothes on!"
If Phoebe Cates thinks she owns this movie, she has a serious problem immediately, because she faces Angela Lansbury, as Aunt Hortense, a veteran scene-stealer who could mop floors with dramatic actresses with one hand and hams with the other. Angela adopts a ridiculously hysterical French accent and tries to fluff the conversation, but Phoebe is all business. She wants to know where her mother is. Where is Lucinda Lace? Angela begins to unravel her maternal heritage for her. "It happened at that school..."
The school is Gothic and parochial, run by stuffy Herbert Lom. We meet our three leads, who have a difficult task at the onset: they are trying to sing a hymn to which none know the words (bubblegum watermelon isn't working, trust me) and all are trying to look like teenagers. Teenagers? Bess Armstrong, Brooke Adams and Arielle Dombasle? At least the other girls, including the requisite nasty fat girl, look more like girls. Herbert is as irate as a 2-watt light bulb over violations in the rules ("I wish I were violated," one of our heroines chirps) and our leads laughs.
Bess is an American, a would-be authoress who writes romance novels about Lucinda Lace, novels that sound exactly like the tripe we're in for. Just as Arielle comes in with a package of contraband goodies, the fat girl, named...what else...Piggy, is hot on the trail, hoping they are not breaking the rules. "You three always stick together." "Though thick and thin," Bess says, as their motto. "Through sick and sin," Arielle agrees, in her French accent. "No, stupid, you're sin and she's sick," Brooke jokes looking first at Arielle and next at Piggy.
Okay, so in this one exchange, we've learned literally everything we need to know about the heroines. Bess is strong but romantic, French Arielle dimly comic and British Brooke proudly bossy. Arielle drags her friends to a hockey rink where she's obsessed with a player she meet only clandestinely. Another obsession of the girls is Simon Chandler, a banker's son from snobbish Philadelphia. The gals follow him to a restaurant where he seems to have eyes only for Kansas-born Bess. Their lunch is interrupted by the arrival of a caravan of cars carrying Anthony Higgins, Prince Abdullah, who has Brooke interested. "I love their bathrobes," Bess notes, sounding less like a teenager than just and out-and-out moron. "They call them bernoooooooze," Arielle intones. Prince Anthony comes in handy a scene later when he gallops on his white steer to stop a wayward carriage Bess and Arielle have accidentally started while Brooke was snapping photos. Brooke is offended that he introduces himself as a prince, so she says she's the "Queen of China." Yeah, that'll teach him manners!
All three girls are virgins, though they live through Bess' Lucinda Lace character, who is always about to have sex in the next chapter. "I think you two have sex on the brain," Bess says during a midnight smoking session. Let's be fair, losing virginity is important to this trio, all looking like they are about to hit 40. It's decided that Arielle cannot wait any longer, so the girls rent a hotel room in town and her hockey player shows up as Arielle has put on a negligee. The hockey player is not allowed to have "anything to do with women" because of a big upcoming game, and Arielle picks that moment to tell him she's a virgin. "Don't worry, I've been in this situation hundreds of times," he says, though she quickly deflates that boast. The "do not disturb" sign goes on the door as Piggy stands outside the room glaring.
Arielle isn't sure she did "it" right, though it was "wonderful" and he was "wonderful" but Arielle says, strangely, "I'm not so sure I love him anymore." Who the hell cares? It was about deflowering! At another meal, the girls crack wise a few more times and then note that the headmaster is supposedly having an affair with his chauffeur.
It's the big Valentine's Day dance. "How do we look?" they ask themselves in the mirror. Utterly ridiculous as teenagers, I wish the mirror would respond. To the sleepy strains of "A Summer Place," Bess dances with Simon as the other two chatter and turn down any man who isn't up to their standards. Prince Anthony arrives, dressed for an audience with the Pope, rather than a winter formal. Now "Mack the Knife" is playing and Prince Anthony sends a servant over to ask Brooke to dance. "Tell him to get stuffed," Brooke says as they tell the poor guy either the Prince asks himself or no dice! Before Anthony's dark make-up starts to melt from his face, he better truck it on over to Brooke. "She won!" Bess says as the Prince does approach her, suddenly informal enough to crack sexually wise.
In rush the hockey players, who have won their big game. Arielle finally has her partner too, but the song ends in time for Brooke and Arielle to wonder where Bess has gone. "I'm going to have to rewrite Chapter 3 in my book," she says while Simon smokes a cigarette. Apparently losing ones virginity is better than Lucinda Lace got it. "It's like a winding country lane. I always knew it was there, but I never wanted to walk down it before," she tells Simon. Pause for a moment to consider that. Are we speaking anatomically? Is Bess the possessor of some freaking insides? Are we speaking horticulturally? Is not a blooming rose but perhaps ten different kinds of trees? Or is she speaking metaphorically? Ah, that must be it! But that doesn't help because I have no idea what the hell that metaphor could mean, but Simon seems to understand, so the dialogue moves to Bess saying she loves Simon and Simon saying, "I'm very fond of you." Oh, crap. That's never good.
Brooke goes to Prince Anthony's royal suite, with has a painting of the sky and constellations on the ceiling and enough faux-Arab bric-a-brac to fill a DeMille movie.
Simon explains himself. He does love Bess, but his family has a "master plan" and a fiancee already picked out for him and it's all to start the following week. "You might have told me this before," Bess chides, but he's as horny as she is.
Prince Anthony had a private tutor, "two hours a day, three times a week" to teach him the art of making love. "What was on the blackboard? Did you have much homework?" Brooke jokes, as nervous as he is confident. He finally shuts her up with a kiss, but Brooke pulls away. Prince Anthony is incensed and calls her names, but Brooke stands firm. "I've had lessons too! From teachers like Deborah Kerr...and Doris Day and Jane Austen and all the Bronte sisters and your Hakim could learn a hell of a lot from them about how a woman should be treated," she rails before hightailing it out of the royal suite. "Deborah Kerr? Doris Day?" the Prince wonders, no doubt wishing to send servants to find these teachers.
Let's pause again. What the hell was so bad about the way the Prince seduced Brooke? Arielle got a quick tumble between hockey practice sessions, Bess just the same with a man who is engaged to be married, but yet Brooke had a Prince, in white gloves, take her to a fabulous suite, give her a rose and kiss her passionate. That's the stuff of bloody fairy tales! How did the score become Fairy Tales-0, Lace-2? Because of Deborah Kerr? She got pounded...by waves...in from "Here to Eternity" and was clearly no virgin. Better rethink your role models, Brooke, or you are going to fall far behind your pals.
Brooke needs a ride back to school since it's the middle of the night and the only car to come to her rescue is the dastardly chauffeur. He invites Brooke in and since it's cold, she doesn't have much choice. He forces her to have a drink, or else he won't take her back, and instantly something is wrong. The chauffeur, offended by her gay jokes, is saying, "maybe you're wrong about me" as she passes out from the spiked drink. When she wakes up, he shows her pictures of himself with various girls from the school, as well as the headmaster. "You're very photogenic," she snaps before he rips her dress. But, she makes a dash for it and was able to run back to the Prince. Ah, so his white gloves are goldfish aren't so bad, are they? He doesn't even ask about the ripped dress before taking her in his arms.
All three have had sex just once and one is pregnant. Sitting on an Alp, they need to decide what to do because "it's too soon for motherhood." Here we get a bit of social commentary, the only "Lace" can manage. An abortion is suggested and Brooke says it's illegal. Ah, but feisty Bess tells us that "soon, in another 10 years, abortions are going to be performed like appendectomies in proper hospitals." You tell 'em, Bess! Of course, the part about 10 years speaks to the American Supreme Court ruling and these girls are in France, but let's not mention that. Let's be proud that we have strong brave woman in 1960something (with a 1980something mindset). The social commentary continues for a few more sentences before they vote on what to do. They veto the abortion. Bess things as three "intelligent women," they should be able to figure it out. Hold on! Intelligent? In "Lace?"
The trio trundles over to an Obstetrician, observed once again by Piggy! "Lucinda Lace" shows up to see Dr. Anthony Quayle. All three are Lucinda Lace, but they don't intend to tell the confused doctor which one is pregnant. They do actually tell him, but unfortunately, we get stuck seeing Piggy and her friend outside while it's revealed.
Here's the decision on what to do: they want to give the baby up for adoption, but only until one is ready to handle a child, just a temporary adoption. That makes perfect sense...to absolutely no one, let alone a doctor! Do you see why this is so lovable?
Herbert Lom hauls the girls into his office and demands to know who is pregnant. Arielle says, "maybe it's all of us," and she's asked to stay behind because Piggy has told Herbert about seeing her at the hotel. So, unless Auntie gives money to the school, she'll be labeled as a tramp and banished. But, Bess and Brooke have a plan. While Arielle distracts the chauffeur, they go inside his house and steal his dirty blackmail pictures.
In turn, they use the blackmail pictures against the principal, so Herbert has no choice but to let them graduate. With straights As. And excused from gym class because of their "condition." The doctor drives them by the house where the baby will be deposited, which will take money, and Anthony Quayle has a fee too. Where will they get that money?
Aunt Hortense. Thank goodness, not a moment too soon does Angie Lansbury return. She has the money and the snappy Chanel-ish suits. She gives them a sterling argument in favor of never having children and then lowers the boom: she's not rich. "Which one of my favorite husbands and we, um, put the bite on?" she suggests, just when we think all is lost in terms of money and plot continuation.
The doctor gets to know who is pregnant, though we don't, because she goes cloaked by midnight and in shadows inside. "Of the three of you, you are the one I least suspected," he tells the mother.
Back in the present, drunken Aunt Hortense is still telling her story to Phoebe, but there's a problem. Angela tells Phoebe that's the end of the story because the baby was killed, but Phoebe seems to be standing there. It's hard to tell, actually, because she's wearing so many feathers on her costume it may be an ostrich dunked in motor oil.
"They made their schoolgirl pact and sent me to hell. I show them what I learned there," Phoebe rails at Angie before tearing out. Unfortunately, this is all too much for the grande dame, and she has a heart attack, while still talking, knocking over her last glass of wine before expiring. She milks the death scene for full value, as well she should. It's a hell of a scene!
Phoebe shows up at the funeral, unnoticed. Arielle is there, now a Countess with a 17-year old son. Bess comes too, unmarried, a publisher of "Lace" magazine. Brooke has fared the worst. She's Lady Swann, the wife of a cancer researcher, and currently an alcoholic. The three do not speak now.
"Now it's time to make them suffer," Phoebe tells her driver as the funeral scene comes to a dramatic conclusion. Actually, every scene comes to a dramatic conclusion in "Lace."
Bess is invited aboard a yacht by Phoebe, through her Greek intermediary friend who Ari Onassis in everything but name. Finally, Bess gets to meet Phoebe, who is decked out in a ruffled outfit and a terrifying outfit. Bess is trying to save her magazine and since Phoebe is the biggest star in the world (star of what, we're not quite sure), so Bess wants to do an exclusive interview. In this extremely weird scene, Bess acts the business-like dame and Phoebe, once again, is so explosive she threatens to sink the yacht. Phoebe teases Bess with her affairs with movies stars and senators, and then hits her over the head with the fact that it will save the magazine. Bess, looking and trying (but failing) to sound like Julie Andrews, is game to start the interview right there. "You tell it, I'll print it," Bess says.
"I was pregnant when I was 16. Were you pregnant when you were 16?" Phoebe starts, before ripping off on a torrent about her life, delivered at such a fever pitch, one wonders how she will sustain it for the rest of the movie (let alone the sequel). Before she became the world-famous...whatever the hell she is...Phoebe was indeed a pregnant teen with not enough money "to have a tooth pulled," the woman who recommends an abortionist tells her. But, she doesn't have enough money to pay for the full procedure.
But, there is a way to make that money. Gross old photographer Pierre Olaf, a long way from his days as a Broadway juvenile. He gets the tiger out of Phoebe, who tosses her top and snares enough cash for the abortion, though of the worst kind, the kind her mothers worried about years earlier, and she gets sick from the procedure. Sick and booted from her rat trap. She has just enough energy to return to Pierre's and collapse.
Phoebe stops there, though Bess is drooling for more. Next up on Phoebe's list is Arielle, who likes to have the rich and famous at her chateau. "You are rich and I am famous," she tells her Greek pal. You can't buy dialogue like that, though one wonders how Aunt Hortense raised a niece to accept this sort of rich trash into her house.
Coincidentally, at the chateau that weekends is the Prince! Just as the discussion gets juicy about Brooke's tragic life, Arielle announces dinner. Arielle's table seating leaves something to be desired, because her son is infatuated with Phoebe, who feeds him. "She likes to feed strays," her Greek unhelpfully notes. While flirting with Arielle's son, she also baits the Prince about contributing to Brooke's charity. Arielle's son wants to know what Phoebe's new film is about. "I never know what my new films are about." "That's why her performances are so believable," roars the Greek. And we've hit another screeching halt! What in the world is that supposed to mean? And why be proud of it? Sorry, we can un-pause now.
"How did you become a great great actress?" Prince Anthony asks. "Luck," just like the kind that made the Prince a royal. Anthony and Arielle's son Simon are both intrigued, so dinner conversation turns to her history, in the umpteenth flashback of the ever-confusing saga here. "It was 1979," she starts. "Ah, a good year for Beaujolais," the Greek interrupts. "And a good year for Lili," she says before diving in. Nude photography leads to pornography for Pierre. Her costar in the scene wants to know how motivation, Pierre points to Phoebe. "Try to look like you are enjoying every minute of it," Pierre commands and that's how Phoebe became a star. The Prince is not as delighted, Arielle is uncomfortable, but Simon all but drills a hole in the table with his boner.
Dinner over, the men go out to talk about oil tankers and Arielle can't find her son. Three guesses, friends. No, he's not behind the arras in the hallway. Not in the fountain outside. Yes, in Phoebe's room, although nothing has happened. We hope. I mean, they could be half brother and sister. "Why? Why did you?" Arielle asks. "Why not?" Phoebe chirps before the two roll around on the bed in a cat fight that was a must in all 80s trash. Phoebe spits on Arielle, who has the class to wipe it off on a piece of Phoebe's clothing.
Naturally, Phoebe is tossed out of the house. "You threw her out like a common tramp," Simon says, and Arielle agrees with that. "I didn't know she was so common," Arielle says, thinking she's done away with Phoebe. What she has forgotten is that in "Lace," every man is incredibly stupid. Her son therefore announces he's madly in love with Phoebe and is leaving to chase her.
Back to Bess. She doesn't trust everything Phoebe has said and she's worried about libel. "Print it," she finally says and "Lace" magazine is hopefully back on track.
Brooke's husband Nickolas Grace is super duper excited because Prince Anthony, now King Anthony, has agreed to donate to the charity cancer and Nickolas is too busy, so Brooke has to go. That'll be uncomfortable since their affair of years ago, but Brooke has taken to the bottle and isn't exactly looking her best. Plus, no alcohol in a Muslim country, so she'll be drying out while having to sparkle for business and worry about the past. This will be fraught. FRAUGHT, I TELL YOU!
The Kingdom of...whatever it's called to avoid having any Arab potentate get angry at the United States, is an oil-rich gargantuan palace and not much else. As the King and the former Queen of China get reunited, Phoebe turns up. She's also a guest at the palace, though neither Brooke nor the King's head wife takes much of a liking to her.
Being with the King has made Brooke feel so much better that she doesn't even take a swig from her hidden stash of liquor. There's a big dinner where Brooke confidently discusses her research. "Cancer is being attacked on all sorts of fronts," she says (a statement that goes unexplained for all its wackiness). Phoebe and Brooke argue about whether there is enough being done for cancer in the King's country. "Different people suffer from different things in different ways," Phoebe offers, and just when it looks like Brooke has lost all hope of getting any oil money, the head wife says it's okay to make a donation. "A small one, a token," she notes. Brooke is not happy, and once again Phoebe has bewitched another dimwitted man, though this runs an entire country.
When the royal family takes off from the palace, Brooke has it out with Phoebe. She wants to know why the hell Phoebe torpedoed her mission. Phoebe's explanation? Being abandoned by her mother, and another flashback. As Phoebe narrates the downfall of her self-respect (frankly, her self-respect seems very healthy, the strongest thing about her). As confused as as anyone watching, Brooke asks, "what does any of this have to do with last night?" Phoebe is honest: she wanted to see old lovers in action, because she intends to be the King's new lover. Brooke battles back a bit, by reminding her that "first loves die hard" and then Phoebe orders her out of the palace. That sends Brooke back to the bottle, poor thing.
Phoebe returns returns to her latest set, where she plays a wench who ends up in a hay stack, which is mind-boggling. Simon is there, but she will not let him go to New York with her. Why not? "I have to play a scene. It is the biggest scene I have ever had to play," she says dramatically. Her maid sends telegrams to the mothers. The one to Bess says the printed article is false, which would ruin the magazine. "Some broad, some animal," her co-publisher says. Brooke and Arielle are ordered to New York, one regarding the charity, the other regarding a son, and both fall for the bait.
Naturally, being an international sensation, Phoebe turns it into a press opportunity. "She has graced us with her presence and her silence," a lady reporter says to the camera when Phoebe stomps through the press gathered at her insistence. Even her agent has no idea what is about to happen. At 4:30, all three possible mothers are due in her suite. She better get out of those horrible white leather pants before they get there. No respectable mother wants to see her kid tarted up like that.
It's time. Arielle arrives first. Then Brooke, who checks her hair in a mirror, as if she's about to meet her lover. The two former friends are not excited to see each other, Arielle tart enough to suggest perhaps Brooke doesn't need a drink. Phoebe's maid is no help, not offering any explanations, so Arielle and Brooke kill time wondering and speaking very slowly until Bess shows up. "Somebody wants to make a big entrance," Bess mutters as they wait below a staircase for Phoebe to emerge in a ravishing white gown, as pure as snow driven through a sewer.
The tension is high, especially since the lines are repeated over and over again, just in different varieties, as if to kill time before the next commercial break. Okay, okay, it's supposed to be a tense scene, but a well-written one would be more helpful. Phoebe reminds them, and any dozing viewers, what each woman is doing there, and how she can help them out of the predicaments into which she's driven them. Will she help them? Hmmm. Oh, but...
"Incidentally, which one of you bitches is my mother?"
Thus ends Part 1 of this glorious camp-fest. If you are like me, you've hooted and howled yourself into speechless awe and can't imagine how Part 2 will live up to what we've just seen, but there's more to come. Much more. We've simply hit the greatest climax in miniseries history, now we just have to pick up the piece (though heaven above, it's a long ride down that hill).
The answer to the question above?
Oh, not yet!
We return to "Lace" with a flashback to the girls graduating with full honors, with the help of Aunt Hortense's money. Bess' parents are boring, we know Aunt Hortense is crazy fun but the biggest surprise comes from Brooke's mum, jaw clenched in the best British fashion, because she's got a lesbian in tow. Whether mum knows it or not, Brooke does, because the dame hits on her. The girls trundle off to the remotest part of the Alps where the baby can be delivered in private. Eleven months go by so pregnancy weight disappears from whoever is the mother, and it's time for the women to start their careers in the hopes of getting baby Elizabeth back in their six idiotic arms.
Bess goes to work for a newspaper as a fashion editor, ignored by the men at the paper who handle the real news. This infuriates the always socially-conscious Bess, rebuffs the attempts of a man at the paper because she just wants to get ahead. She bores him on their first date with her idea for a feminist magazine. "Do you know how many women can do the same things as men?" she asks, though the man is more interested in a park mime. I can't say I disagree. Bess' speeches get longer and more tiresome as the movie progresses.
Perky Arielle, in Pepto-pink suit wants to remodel mansions and hits a home run when she discovers a huge wreck and the handsome man who goes with it. Arielle, pretending not to notice the man, holds her pencil in the air and does some quick figuring. I'm not sure it all has to do with the house either. Since Arielle is the worst actress of the three we're forced to follow, all of her scenes without the others are awfully trying.
Brooke's mum and doting friend have turned their ancestral home into a fat farm. The lesbian has banished her to the gardener's cottage, and Brooke knows just why. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," she says, to the confusion of her mother and the ire of her lesbian, who is now her legal partner. "Either she goes or I do," Brooke says. "But I couldn't run this place without Selma. I couldn't begin to," mum says barely opening that clenched jaw and the lesbian smiles in triumph. Mum tells her daughter to call her uncle and visit for Ascot, while the lesbian chides, "have you done the dinner menu?"
Has anyone wondered what happened to the baby the mother had? No, neither have I, but unfortunately, we don't have a choice in finding out. She's become a delightful little lass brought up by two caring parents. Moving on...
Brooke actually does go to Ascot, where she bumps into the Prince! He has a "rather nice filly" in the race named...wait for it...the Queen of China. His love for Brooke has never dimmed. The horse wins, but so does Brooke, back in the arms of her beloved dashing Prince. They go to leave a dance and Brooke insists on walking, which the Prince's men don't think is safe. "An evening stroll is romantic. Being driven to a man's hotel is not," Brooke insists and decides she'll walk alone if the Prince wants the car. She knows full well he'll follow her. As they kiss, there are sparks. Actual sparks because the Prince's car blows up. Yup, a big kaboom and the Prince's minions rush the Prince to safety, leaving Brooke alone on the street, burning car and all.
Arielle is a bit luckier. She gets to finally land her man down in the champagne mansion she's redoing. There's a wacky non-sequiter when they come upon a statue of the man who started it all. "I've never seen a statue that looks happy," the vintner says. He says something about the quality of the champagne at "our table" and Arielle gives in, up against the rows of wine. How very French of her. What's more romantic than a drafty wine cellar?
The kid is in pigtails now.
Arielle is married and pregnant, and reunited with Bess and Brooke for the grand re-opening of the mansion (there is a comedy scene for Angie Lansbury that helps pick things up...temporarily). It seems as if Arielle is the one who will get the child back because she's the first one to have really made it. She's married and settled, though she doesn't want the child because she thinks her husband will react poorly. The girls agree to wait one more year, just one more year. A musical montage carries us beyond that year as the women follow other dreams.
It wouldn't be a miniseries without a hint of war, so Bess is sent to Vietnam as a reporter. She's sassy and snide with the men in charge. "I'm calling you a lousy bigot," she says to one soldier who doesn't want her to go to the front and "I'll give you a Purple Heart the hard way," she says to another in the trench who has grabbed her fanny. "Why don't you go home and have a couple of kids?" one asks just before being blown to bits. The entire company is killed, but Bess manages to survive when their dead bodies fall on her.
The kid is tormented in school by having no real mother or father.
Brooke goes to live in the Kingdom of...not a real Arab country. Comedy tries to ensue when Brooke can race and beat the Prince riding horses but can't manage a camel. Ha ha ha! Or not. It gets worse. The Prince brings her into an opulent tent. "Aren't you impressed?" "You've seen one oasis, you've seen 'em all." Or, how about this one: "Sensitive to be a loser?" "How about a SORE loser" as she rubs her aching back. Ha ha ha! Or not. The puns keep flying as sarcastic Brooke lobs them back and forth with the Prince in their three-hour tryst in the tent ("It's like something out of a silent movie," she says, which is the last time this dopey take-me-to-heaven Sheik fantasy was exciting).
The kid wants to know who her real mother is.
The year has passed and no one has claimed the baby. Brooke has her desert romance, Bess is writing her book and Arielle is keeping her husband's business afloat.
The kid waits by the road, hoping every passing car will be her mother coming to pick her up.
At a palace social function, the King summons Brooke to his side and to make sure she has not "misinterpreted any gestures of hospitality." In his way, he's just told her there is no way she's marrying into his family. She treats him with the same contempt she treats everyone, which would probably have her boiled in oil if this were a true story. "Don't they make a charming couple?" he asks about his son and the lovely pair of eyes sitting next to him. That's all we see of her. Brooke has the actual nerve to remind the King that in England a king gave up his throne for a woman, but that meets with a sneer.
The kid has lines. Yup, she speaks. Her foster father has a brother in some sort of trouble in some resistance movement in some Eastern European country and is coming to live with them.
Bess' book "Rape in a Foxhole" is a big success. Thing they'll turn that one into a movie? With a title like that, how can they resist? She tells her lover that she needs a bigger apartment for a special guest, but doesn't say any more. Well, at least she's given some thought to the girl.
Not a moment too soon, because the foster family is in serious trouble. The go get the brother in his dank Eastern European country where it's rainy and cold (remember, "Lace" was made in 1984, when bashing Commies was all the rage). As they go back into a sunny Western European country, they are about to be stopped by a guard at the border and have to run for their lives. The kid might as well be wearing a target on her head, sporting a red knit cap. Off they go through the woods, quietly on their way to safety, trying to avoid the soldiers patrolling the area. "We shouldn't have brought the child," the foster mother says. You think? Lady, you get no more foster kids!
Unfortunately, the soldiers find them and foster mom, foster dad and foster uncle are mowed down. A dozen or so soldiers with dogs surround her. What will become of the child?
It remains a mystery, because when Aunt Hortense goes to make her monthly payment, she finds out that the last one has come back unopened. Should the banker check up on them? "By all means! This is most peculiar," Angela chimes, praying she doesn't have to use this funky accent much longer.
Bad news in the Kingdom of...not a real Arab country. The King dies and her prince is now King. He won't see her, and his minions won't let her near him either. He has responsibilities now. He can't just kick around an affair with an Englishwoman now. I guess they haven't seen the 1986 miniseries "Harem," which clearly allows Western women in the harem. Brooke returns to Mum and the fat farm. Mum sends for Arielle, who shows up to be told by the old woman, "She drinks. She drinks ever since she returned from the Middle East." Arielle tells Brooke the good news! She was going to call for the kid in a month, but since Brooke has nothing else to do, she'll have the kid sent to Brooke. Good idea. Give the kid to an alcoholic.
Enough with the child (two seconds is more than any of these women ever care to think about her anymore) because Arielle and Brooke have to dash to New York to celebrate the opening of Bess' magazine. The party takes place in a big room where the worst singer in television history ruins "Georgia On My Mind." "Through thick/sick and thin/sin," they yell when coming down the stairs to find Bess. Brooke is introduced to Nickolas, and her first line to him is, "I haven't got a drink. Maxine (Arielle) says if you share some one's drink, you share their dreams." "Share my drink?" Nickolas asks? That's courtship for ya!
In the middle of the party, with the singer at full tilt, Aunt Hortense calls, full of hysterics and hysterical acting, to inform the women that the kid is dead. "We killed her, all of us," Arielle wails. "I need a drink," Brooke adds. Bess is the voice of reason. She reminds them that they have let six years pass without really lifting a finger to help the kid. "Let's be honest. A six year old girl was killed and none of us really knew her," Brooke notes. "None of us really wanted to," adds Bess. The women decide they have nothing more to say to each other and Arielle and Brooke leave the party...with the crooner doing "George On My Mind" again! Does he only know three songs? Only I noticed this? Okay, bad news has hit them, but Bess has a magazine, Arielle a wonderful life and Brooke even met a man that night!
Back in the present, Phoebe returns. It's been a long time since we've seen her harpy act. Phoebe says the kid wasn't dead, but lived in a camp for 10 years. "You know what I expected? Or hoped? Stupid me. I hoped one of you would hold out your arms to me and call me Elizabeth," expecting a reaction from them. Brooke stands up grandly, walks over to Phoebe...and keeps on walking over to the bar. The three don't believe Phoebe's story, especially since she's been so evil to them. "I wanted to make each of you suffer," Phoebe snarls at them "Still no open arms? Still so afraid?" Geez, this dame doesn't know when to quit. More bees with honey? Not our Phoebe! She has to drive the nails in further. "Who wants a porno queen for a daughter?" she yells, but the three are unmoved because they still think the story may be false and she's after her own publicity. She tries another tactic...why not pit them against each other? "It would be so easy for two of you to save your fancy skins and point your fingers at the other," she offers, but the three just look down at the carpet. After railing and begging, she then throws them all out, deciding, "none of you is good enough to be my mother." Oh, and the cancer fund is saved, the magazine article is true and Simon can return to his mother. As they trot out, Phoebe glides up her stairs recounting the details of her birth, the doctor, the foster family, all the details.
Now why didn't she say that earlier? Couldn't we have lopped at least an hour of this scene alone? No guarantees mom would have raised her hand, but it would have saved an awful lot of cheap dialogue for "Lace II."
The three possible mothers congregate in the hotel bar where a female singer is just as bad as the male singer we heard a few scenes ago. "Through th..." Yeah, we get it, as they clink glasses. They start to laugh, thinking of the gossip that would swirl around them if this got out, but it's not really funny. "I guess we're too ashamed to cry," Arielle offers. "Well, at least it brought us together again," they note. But, what are they going to do about Phoebe. Should they take a vote, like old times? "I think this time Elizabeth's real mother is all on her own," Bess says, and the others agree. Christmas music rings out in the bar, with no two drunk people singing the same words to the song.
Phoebe is lounging in her bed when the phone rings. It's the hotel manager. One of his employees has let her mother up. Phoebe rises from the bed in a full marabou gown, does a few bird flaps (for no reason) and waits for mom to arrive. Back to the flaps. Why? It's insane! It's truly the definition of this movie. Does she flap when nervous?
Feet ascend the stairs to Phoebe's room. In her marabou, Phoebe answers the door to find...should I tell you? I mean, wouldn't it ruin the surprise?
Don't worry. There is still "Lace II" to bring it all home for us.
Actually, you should worry, because "Lace II" is unbearably bad, where "Lace" is gleefully charming in its lunacy. It thrives on it. If it didn't, someone would have stopped Phoebe Cates from working as hard as she does to fly so far over the top. "Lace" is one of the best pieces of trash the US miniseries movement ever produced, the kind that was exported all over the world so everyone could chant, "which one of you bitches is my mother," no matter what his or her mother tongue is. It's the Coca-Cola of miniseries. Everyone knows it. Everyone has seen it. No one wants to admit it, but it's a guilty pleasure in which to revel.
So, everyone, grab your marabou and flap away! We'll get to "Lace II" soon enough.
For Nancy.
With the exception of Kunte Kinte naming of himself in "Roots," and I think that's a distant second, the above line is THE most famous and well-known piece of dialogue to come from an American miniseries.
Ah, "Lace." "Lace" itself seems to have burrowed into the collective minds of people who watched long-play format television in the 1980s as the one they seem to remember the most. Based on Shirley Conran's novel, it is easily the cheesiest, easily the most ridiculous, easily the looniest and easily the most fun that can be had. "Lace" is a romance miniseries of the highest degree, thought it veers off into creating its own sub-genre of out-and-out miniseries camp. Phoebe Cates gives a Hall of Fame performance of a lifetime so unique that it basically made her unusable again so as not to dare tarnish it, as a world-famous personality on the most insane quest to find one's self in miniseries history. There is glitz, melodrama, tears, marabou and sublime overacting enough in "Lace" that it can make one forget Jaclyn Smith in her Sidney Sheldon roles, all of the Kennedys and, yes, even Polly Bergen's drunken antics in the Herman Wouk productions.
"You've got to climb Mount Everest to reach the Valley of the Dolls," Anne Welles says in that movie, considered the ne plus ultra of camp cinema. The same applies to "Lace." This is the pinnacle of miniseries glee. It is the most preposterous of miniseries and that's why it's one of the favorites.
The best way to start is just to start. From the very beginning, the level of madness is so high, we can't possibly lose.
The melodrama is obvious from the credits. A very expensive car drives through Alpine splendor with a full orchestra blaring with overzealous intent. In the car, we see only pieces of a veiled woman smoking a cigarette. The woman in the veil is Phoebe Cates. The ruin she drives up to is a former school that has been closed, with scandal attached to the headmaster. "And she was a student here?" she asks of her driver, who informs her that yes, it is thought her unknown mother was a student there. "But we must get back to Paris. The old woman has all the answers," he says as Phoebe tosses her cigarette out the window.
As she steps out of the car in Paris, in front of Notre Dame, no less, the gawking tourists all turn their focus to her. We hear expected chatter like, "it's Lili! What's she doing here" along less expected chatter like, "and with her clothes on!"
If Phoebe Cates thinks she owns this movie, she has a serious problem immediately, because she faces Angela Lansbury, as Aunt Hortense, a veteran scene-stealer who could mop floors with dramatic actresses with one hand and hams with the other. Angela adopts a ridiculously hysterical French accent and tries to fluff the conversation, but Phoebe is all business. She wants to know where her mother is. Where is Lucinda Lace? Angela begins to unravel her maternal heritage for her. "It happened at that school..."
The school is Gothic and parochial, run by stuffy Herbert Lom. We meet our three leads, who have a difficult task at the onset: they are trying to sing a hymn to which none know the words (bubblegum watermelon isn't working, trust me) and all are trying to look like teenagers. Teenagers? Bess Armstrong, Brooke Adams and Arielle Dombasle? At least the other girls, including the requisite nasty fat girl, look more like girls. Herbert is as irate as a 2-watt light bulb over violations in the rules ("I wish I were violated," one of our heroines chirps) and our leads laughs.
Bess is an American, a would-be authoress who writes romance novels about Lucinda Lace, novels that sound exactly like the tripe we're in for. Just as Arielle comes in with a package of contraband goodies, the fat girl, named...what else...Piggy, is hot on the trail, hoping they are not breaking the rules. "You three always stick together." "Though thick and thin," Bess says, as their motto. "Through sick and sin," Arielle agrees, in her French accent. "No, stupid, you're sin and she's sick," Brooke jokes looking first at Arielle and next at Piggy.
Okay, so in this one exchange, we've learned literally everything we need to know about the heroines. Bess is strong but romantic, French Arielle dimly comic and British Brooke proudly bossy. Arielle drags her friends to a hockey rink where she's obsessed with a player she meet only clandestinely. Another obsession of the girls is Simon Chandler, a banker's son from snobbish Philadelphia. The gals follow him to a restaurant where he seems to have eyes only for Kansas-born Bess. Their lunch is interrupted by the arrival of a caravan of cars carrying Anthony Higgins, Prince Abdullah, who has Brooke interested. "I love their bathrobes," Bess notes, sounding less like a teenager than just and out-and-out moron. "They call them bernoooooooze," Arielle intones. Prince Anthony comes in handy a scene later when he gallops on his white steer to stop a wayward carriage Bess and Arielle have accidentally started while Brooke was snapping photos. Brooke is offended that he introduces himself as a prince, so she says she's the "Queen of China." Yeah, that'll teach him manners!
All three girls are virgins, though they live through Bess' Lucinda Lace character, who is always about to have sex in the next chapter. "I think you two have sex on the brain," Bess says during a midnight smoking session. Let's be fair, losing virginity is important to this trio, all looking like they are about to hit 40. It's decided that Arielle cannot wait any longer, so the girls rent a hotel room in town and her hockey player shows up as Arielle has put on a negligee. The hockey player is not allowed to have "anything to do with women" because of a big upcoming game, and Arielle picks that moment to tell him she's a virgin. "Don't worry, I've been in this situation hundreds of times," he says, though she quickly deflates that boast. The "do not disturb" sign goes on the door as Piggy stands outside the room glaring.
Arielle isn't sure she did "it" right, though it was "wonderful" and he was "wonderful" but Arielle says, strangely, "I'm not so sure I love him anymore." Who the hell cares? It was about deflowering! At another meal, the girls crack wise a few more times and then note that the headmaster is supposedly having an affair with his chauffeur.
It's the big Valentine's Day dance. "How do we look?" they ask themselves in the mirror. Utterly ridiculous as teenagers, I wish the mirror would respond. To the sleepy strains of "A Summer Place," Bess dances with Simon as the other two chatter and turn down any man who isn't up to their standards. Prince Anthony arrives, dressed for an audience with the Pope, rather than a winter formal. Now "Mack the Knife" is playing and Prince Anthony sends a servant over to ask Brooke to dance. "Tell him to get stuffed," Brooke says as they tell the poor guy either the Prince asks himself or no dice! Before Anthony's dark make-up starts to melt from his face, he better truck it on over to Brooke. "She won!" Bess says as the Prince does approach her, suddenly informal enough to crack sexually wise.
In rush the hockey players, who have won their big game. Arielle finally has her partner too, but the song ends in time for Brooke and Arielle to wonder where Bess has gone. "I'm going to have to rewrite Chapter 3 in my book," she says while Simon smokes a cigarette. Apparently losing ones virginity is better than Lucinda Lace got it. "It's like a winding country lane. I always knew it was there, but I never wanted to walk down it before," she tells Simon. Pause for a moment to consider that. Are we speaking anatomically? Is Bess the possessor of some freaking insides? Are we speaking horticulturally? Is not a blooming rose but perhaps ten different kinds of trees? Or is she speaking metaphorically? Ah, that must be it! But that doesn't help because I have no idea what the hell that metaphor could mean, but Simon seems to understand, so the dialogue moves to Bess saying she loves Simon and Simon saying, "I'm very fond of you." Oh, crap. That's never good.
Brooke goes to Prince Anthony's royal suite, with has a painting of the sky and constellations on the ceiling and enough faux-Arab bric-a-brac to fill a DeMille movie.
Simon explains himself. He does love Bess, but his family has a "master plan" and a fiancee already picked out for him and it's all to start the following week. "You might have told me this before," Bess chides, but he's as horny as she is.
Prince Anthony had a private tutor, "two hours a day, three times a week" to teach him the art of making love. "What was on the blackboard? Did you have much homework?" Brooke jokes, as nervous as he is confident. He finally shuts her up with a kiss, but Brooke pulls away. Prince Anthony is incensed and calls her names, but Brooke stands firm. "I've had lessons too! From teachers like Deborah Kerr...and Doris Day and Jane Austen and all the Bronte sisters and your Hakim could learn a hell of a lot from them about how a woman should be treated," she rails before hightailing it out of the royal suite. "Deborah Kerr? Doris Day?" the Prince wonders, no doubt wishing to send servants to find these teachers.
Let's pause again. What the hell was so bad about the way the Prince seduced Brooke? Arielle got a quick tumble between hockey practice sessions, Bess just the same with a man who is engaged to be married, but yet Brooke had a Prince, in white gloves, take her to a fabulous suite, give her a rose and kiss her passionate. That's the stuff of bloody fairy tales! How did the score become Fairy Tales-0, Lace-2? Because of Deborah Kerr? She got pounded...by waves...in from "Here to Eternity" and was clearly no virgin. Better rethink your role models, Brooke, or you are going to fall far behind your pals.
Brooke needs a ride back to school since it's the middle of the night and the only car to come to her rescue is the dastardly chauffeur. He invites Brooke in and since it's cold, she doesn't have much choice. He forces her to have a drink, or else he won't take her back, and instantly something is wrong. The chauffeur, offended by her gay jokes, is saying, "maybe you're wrong about me" as she passes out from the spiked drink. When she wakes up, he shows her pictures of himself with various girls from the school, as well as the headmaster. "You're very photogenic," she snaps before he rips her dress. But, she makes a dash for it and was able to run back to the Prince. Ah, so his white gloves are goldfish aren't so bad, are they? He doesn't even ask about the ripped dress before taking her in his arms.
All three have had sex just once and one is pregnant. Sitting on an Alp, they need to decide what to do because "it's too soon for motherhood." Here we get a bit of social commentary, the only "Lace" can manage. An abortion is suggested and Brooke says it's illegal. Ah, but feisty Bess tells us that "soon, in another 10 years, abortions are going to be performed like appendectomies in proper hospitals." You tell 'em, Bess! Of course, the part about 10 years speaks to the American Supreme Court ruling and these girls are in France, but let's not mention that. Let's be proud that we have strong brave woman in 1960something (with a 1980something mindset). The social commentary continues for a few more sentences before they vote on what to do. They veto the abortion. Bess things as three "intelligent women," they should be able to figure it out. Hold on! Intelligent? In "Lace?"
The trio trundles over to an Obstetrician, observed once again by Piggy! "Lucinda Lace" shows up to see Dr. Anthony Quayle. All three are Lucinda Lace, but they don't intend to tell the confused doctor which one is pregnant. They do actually tell him, but unfortunately, we get stuck seeing Piggy and her friend outside while it's revealed.
Here's the decision on what to do: they want to give the baby up for adoption, but only until one is ready to handle a child, just a temporary adoption. That makes perfect sense...to absolutely no one, let alone a doctor! Do you see why this is so lovable?
Herbert Lom hauls the girls into his office and demands to know who is pregnant. Arielle says, "maybe it's all of us," and she's asked to stay behind because Piggy has told Herbert about seeing her at the hotel. So, unless Auntie gives money to the school, she'll be labeled as a tramp and banished. But, Bess and Brooke have a plan. While Arielle distracts the chauffeur, they go inside his house and steal his dirty blackmail pictures.
In turn, they use the blackmail pictures against the principal, so Herbert has no choice but to let them graduate. With straights As. And excused from gym class because of their "condition." The doctor drives them by the house where the baby will be deposited, which will take money, and Anthony Quayle has a fee too. Where will they get that money?
Aunt Hortense. Thank goodness, not a moment too soon does Angie Lansbury return. She has the money and the snappy Chanel-ish suits. She gives them a sterling argument in favor of never having children and then lowers the boom: she's not rich. "Which one of my favorite husbands and we, um, put the bite on?" she suggests, just when we think all is lost in terms of money and plot continuation.
The doctor gets to know who is pregnant, though we don't, because she goes cloaked by midnight and in shadows inside. "Of the three of you, you are the one I least suspected," he tells the mother.
Back in the present, drunken Aunt Hortense is still telling her story to Phoebe, but there's a problem. Angela tells Phoebe that's the end of the story because the baby was killed, but Phoebe seems to be standing there. It's hard to tell, actually, because she's wearing so many feathers on her costume it may be an ostrich dunked in motor oil.
"They made their schoolgirl pact and sent me to hell. I show them what I learned there," Phoebe rails at Angie before tearing out. Unfortunately, this is all too much for the grande dame, and she has a heart attack, while still talking, knocking over her last glass of wine before expiring. She milks the death scene for full value, as well she should. It's a hell of a scene!
Phoebe shows up at the funeral, unnoticed. Arielle is there, now a Countess with a 17-year old son. Bess comes too, unmarried, a publisher of "Lace" magazine. Brooke has fared the worst. She's Lady Swann, the wife of a cancer researcher, and currently an alcoholic. The three do not speak now.
"Now it's time to make them suffer," Phoebe tells her driver as the funeral scene comes to a dramatic conclusion. Actually, every scene comes to a dramatic conclusion in "Lace."
Bess is invited aboard a yacht by Phoebe, through her Greek intermediary friend who Ari Onassis in everything but name. Finally, Bess gets to meet Phoebe, who is decked out in a ruffled outfit and a terrifying outfit. Bess is trying to save her magazine and since Phoebe is the biggest star in the world (star of what, we're not quite sure), so Bess wants to do an exclusive interview. In this extremely weird scene, Bess acts the business-like dame and Phoebe, once again, is so explosive she threatens to sink the yacht. Phoebe teases Bess with her affairs with movies stars and senators, and then hits her over the head with the fact that it will save the magazine. Bess, looking and trying (but failing) to sound like Julie Andrews, is game to start the interview right there. "You tell it, I'll print it," Bess says.
"I was pregnant when I was 16. Were you pregnant when you were 16?" Phoebe starts, before ripping off on a torrent about her life, delivered at such a fever pitch, one wonders how she will sustain it for the rest of the movie (let alone the sequel). Before she became the world-famous...whatever the hell she is...Phoebe was indeed a pregnant teen with not enough money "to have a tooth pulled," the woman who recommends an abortionist tells her. But, she doesn't have enough money to pay for the full procedure.
But, there is a way to make that money. Gross old photographer Pierre Olaf, a long way from his days as a Broadway juvenile. He gets the tiger out of Phoebe, who tosses her top and snares enough cash for the abortion, though of the worst kind, the kind her mothers worried about years earlier, and she gets sick from the procedure. Sick and booted from her rat trap. She has just enough energy to return to Pierre's and collapse.
Phoebe stops there, though Bess is drooling for more. Next up on Phoebe's list is Arielle, who likes to have the rich and famous at her chateau. "You are rich and I am famous," she tells her Greek pal. You can't buy dialogue like that, though one wonders how Aunt Hortense raised a niece to accept this sort of rich trash into her house.
Coincidentally, at the chateau that weekends is the Prince! Just as the discussion gets juicy about Brooke's tragic life, Arielle announces dinner. Arielle's table seating leaves something to be desired, because her son is infatuated with Phoebe, who feeds him. "She likes to feed strays," her Greek unhelpfully notes. While flirting with Arielle's son, she also baits the Prince about contributing to Brooke's charity. Arielle's son wants to know what Phoebe's new film is about. "I never know what my new films are about." "That's why her performances are so believable," roars the Greek. And we've hit another screeching halt! What in the world is that supposed to mean? And why be proud of it? Sorry, we can un-pause now.
"How did you become a great great actress?" Prince Anthony asks. "Luck," just like the kind that made the Prince a royal. Anthony and Arielle's son Simon are both intrigued, so dinner conversation turns to her history, in the umpteenth flashback of the ever-confusing saga here. "It was 1979," she starts. "Ah, a good year for Beaujolais," the Greek interrupts. "And a good year for Lili," she says before diving in. Nude photography leads to pornography for Pierre. Her costar in the scene wants to know how motivation, Pierre points to Phoebe. "Try to look like you are enjoying every minute of it," Pierre commands and that's how Phoebe became a star. The Prince is not as delighted, Arielle is uncomfortable, but Simon all but drills a hole in the table with his boner.
Dinner over, the men go out to talk about oil tankers and Arielle can't find her son. Three guesses, friends. No, he's not behind the arras in the hallway. Not in the fountain outside. Yes, in Phoebe's room, although nothing has happened. We hope. I mean, they could be half brother and sister. "Why? Why did you?" Arielle asks. "Why not?" Phoebe chirps before the two roll around on the bed in a cat fight that was a must in all 80s trash. Phoebe spits on Arielle, who has the class to wipe it off on a piece of Phoebe's clothing.
Naturally, Phoebe is tossed out of the house. "You threw her out like a common tramp," Simon says, and Arielle agrees with that. "I didn't know she was so common," Arielle says, thinking she's done away with Phoebe. What she has forgotten is that in "Lace," every man is incredibly stupid. Her son therefore announces he's madly in love with Phoebe and is leaving to chase her.
Back to Bess. She doesn't trust everything Phoebe has said and she's worried about libel. "Print it," she finally says and "Lace" magazine is hopefully back on track.
Brooke's husband Nickolas Grace is super duper excited because Prince Anthony, now King Anthony, has agreed to donate to the charity cancer and Nickolas is too busy, so Brooke has to go. That'll be uncomfortable since their affair of years ago, but Brooke has taken to the bottle and isn't exactly looking her best. Plus, no alcohol in a Muslim country, so she'll be drying out while having to sparkle for business and worry about the past. This will be fraught. FRAUGHT, I TELL YOU!
The Kingdom of...whatever it's called to avoid having any Arab potentate get angry at the United States, is an oil-rich gargantuan palace and not much else. As the King and the former Queen of China get reunited, Phoebe turns up. She's also a guest at the palace, though neither Brooke nor the King's head wife takes much of a liking to her.
Being with the King has made Brooke feel so much better that she doesn't even take a swig from her hidden stash of liquor. There's a big dinner where Brooke confidently discusses her research. "Cancer is being attacked on all sorts of fronts," she says (a statement that goes unexplained for all its wackiness). Phoebe and Brooke argue about whether there is enough being done for cancer in the King's country. "Different people suffer from different things in different ways," Phoebe offers, and just when it looks like Brooke has lost all hope of getting any oil money, the head wife says it's okay to make a donation. "A small one, a token," she notes. Brooke is not happy, and once again Phoebe has bewitched another dimwitted man, though this runs an entire country.
When the royal family takes off from the palace, Brooke has it out with Phoebe. She wants to know why the hell Phoebe torpedoed her mission. Phoebe's explanation? Being abandoned by her mother, and another flashback. As Phoebe narrates the downfall of her self-respect (frankly, her self-respect seems very healthy, the strongest thing about her). As confused as as anyone watching, Brooke asks, "what does any of this have to do with last night?" Phoebe is honest: she wanted to see old lovers in action, because she intends to be the King's new lover. Brooke battles back a bit, by reminding her that "first loves die hard" and then Phoebe orders her out of the palace. That sends Brooke back to the bottle, poor thing.
Phoebe returns returns to her latest set, where she plays a wench who ends up in a hay stack, which is mind-boggling. Simon is there, but she will not let him go to New York with her. Why not? "I have to play a scene. It is the biggest scene I have ever had to play," she says dramatically. Her maid sends telegrams to the mothers. The one to Bess says the printed article is false, which would ruin the magazine. "Some broad, some animal," her co-publisher says. Brooke and Arielle are ordered to New York, one regarding the charity, the other regarding a son, and both fall for the bait.
Naturally, being an international sensation, Phoebe turns it into a press opportunity. "She has graced us with her presence and her silence," a lady reporter says to the camera when Phoebe stomps through the press gathered at her insistence. Even her agent has no idea what is about to happen. At 4:30, all three possible mothers are due in her suite. She better get out of those horrible white leather pants before they get there. No respectable mother wants to see her kid tarted up like that.
It's time. Arielle arrives first. Then Brooke, who checks her hair in a mirror, as if she's about to meet her lover. The two former friends are not excited to see each other, Arielle tart enough to suggest perhaps Brooke doesn't need a drink. Phoebe's maid is no help, not offering any explanations, so Arielle and Brooke kill time wondering and speaking very slowly until Bess shows up. "Somebody wants to make a big entrance," Bess mutters as they wait below a staircase for Phoebe to emerge in a ravishing white gown, as pure as snow driven through a sewer.
The tension is high, especially since the lines are repeated over and over again, just in different varieties, as if to kill time before the next commercial break. Okay, okay, it's supposed to be a tense scene, but a well-written one would be more helpful. Phoebe reminds them, and any dozing viewers, what each woman is doing there, and how she can help them out of the predicaments into which she's driven them. Will she help them? Hmmm. Oh, but...
"Incidentally, which one of you bitches is my mother?"
Thus ends Part 1 of this glorious camp-fest. If you are like me, you've hooted and howled yourself into speechless awe and can't imagine how Part 2 will live up to what we've just seen, but there's more to come. Much more. We've simply hit the greatest climax in miniseries history, now we just have to pick up the piece (though heaven above, it's a long ride down that hill).
The answer to the question above?
Oh, not yet!
We return to "Lace" with a flashback to the girls graduating with full honors, with the help of Aunt Hortense's money. Bess' parents are boring, we know Aunt Hortense is crazy fun but the biggest surprise comes from Brooke's mum, jaw clenched in the best British fashion, because she's got a lesbian in tow. Whether mum knows it or not, Brooke does, because the dame hits on her. The girls trundle off to the remotest part of the Alps where the baby can be delivered in private. Eleven months go by so pregnancy weight disappears from whoever is the mother, and it's time for the women to start their careers in the hopes of getting baby Elizabeth back in their six idiotic arms.
Bess goes to work for a newspaper as a fashion editor, ignored by the men at the paper who handle the real news. This infuriates the always socially-conscious Bess, rebuffs the attempts of a man at the paper because she just wants to get ahead. She bores him on their first date with her idea for a feminist magazine. "Do you know how many women can do the same things as men?" she asks, though the man is more interested in a park mime. I can't say I disagree. Bess' speeches get longer and more tiresome as the movie progresses.
Perky Arielle, in Pepto-pink suit wants to remodel mansions and hits a home run when she discovers a huge wreck and the handsome man who goes with it. Arielle, pretending not to notice the man, holds her pencil in the air and does some quick figuring. I'm not sure it all has to do with the house either. Since Arielle is the worst actress of the three we're forced to follow, all of her scenes without the others are awfully trying.
Brooke's mum and doting friend have turned their ancestral home into a fat farm. The lesbian has banished her to the gardener's cottage, and Brooke knows just why. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," she says, to the confusion of her mother and the ire of her lesbian, who is now her legal partner. "Either she goes or I do," Brooke says. "But I couldn't run this place without Selma. I couldn't begin to," mum says barely opening that clenched jaw and the lesbian smiles in triumph. Mum tells her daughter to call her uncle and visit for Ascot, while the lesbian chides, "have you done the dinner menu?"
Has anyone wondered what happened to the baby the mother had? No, neither have I, but unfortunately, we don't have a choice in finding out. She's become a delightful little lass brought up by two caring parents. Moving on...
Brooke actually does go to Ascot, where she bumps into the Prince! He has a "rather nice filly" in the race named...wait for it...the Queen of China. His love for Brooke has never dimmed. The horse wins, but so does Brooke, back in the arms of her beloved dashing Prince. They go to leave a dance and Brooke insists on walking, which the Prince's men don't think is safe. "An evening stroll is romantic. Being driven to a man's hotel is not," Brooke insists and decides she'll walk alone if the Prince wants the car. She knows full well he'll follow her. As they kiss, there are sparks. Actual sparks because the Prince's car blows up. Yup, a big kaboom and the Prince's minions rush the Prince to safety, leaving Brooke alone on the street, burning car and all.
Arielle is a bit luckier. She gets to finally land her man down in the champagne mansion she's redoing. There's a wacky non-sequiter when they come upon a statue of the man who started it all. "I've never seen a statue that looks happy," the vintner says. He says something about the quality of the champagne at "our table" and Arielle gives in, up against the rows of wine. How very French of her. What's more romantic than a drafty wine cellar?
The kid is in pigtails now.
Arielle is married and pregnant, and reunited with Bess and Brooke for the grand re-opening of the mansion (there is a comedy scene for Angie Lansbury that helps pick things up...temporarily). It seems as if Arielle is the one who will get the child back because she's the first one to have really made it. She's married and settled, though she doesn't want the child because she thinks her husband will react poorly. The girls agree to wait one more year, just one more year. A musical montage carries us beyond that year as the women follow other dreams.
It wouldn't be a miniseries without a hint of war, so Bess is sent to Vietnam as a reporter. She's sassy and snide with the men in charge. "I'm calling you a lousy bigot," she says to one soldier who doesn't want her to go to the front and "I'll give you a Purple Heart the hard way," she says to another in the trench who has grabbed her fanny. "Why don't you go home and have a couple of kids?" one asks just before being blown to bits. The entire company is killed, but Bess manages to survive when their dead bodies fall on her.
The kid is tormented in school by having no real mother or father.
Brooke goes to live in the Kingdom of...not a real Arab country. Comedy tries to ensue when Brooke can race and beat the Prince riding horses but can't manage a camel. Ha ha ha! Or not. It gets worse. The Prince brings her into an opulent tent. "Aren't you impressed?" "You've seen one oasis, you've seen 'em all." Or, how about this one: "Sensitive to be a loser?" "How about a SORE loser" as she rubs her aching back. Ha ha ha! Or not. The puns keep flying as sarcastic Brooke lobs them back and forth with the Prince in their three-hour tryst in the tent ("It's like something out of a silent movie," she says, which is the last time this dopey take-me-to-heaven Sheik fantasy was exciting).
The kid wants to know who her real mother is.
The year has passed and no one has claimed the baby. Brooke has her desert romance, Bess is writing her book and Arielle is keeping her husband's business afloat.
The kid waits by the road, hoping every passing car will be her mother coming to pick her up.
At a palace social function, the King summons Brooke to his side and to make sure she has not "misinterpreted any gestures of hospitality." In his way, he's just told her there is no way she's marrying into his family. She treats him with the same contempt she treats everyone, which would probably have her boiled in oil if this were a true story. "Don't they make a charming couple?" he asks about his son and the lovely pair of eyes sitting next to him. That's all we see of her. Brooke has the actual nerve to remind the King that in England a king gave up his throne for a woman, but that meets with a sneer.
The kid has lines. Yup, she speaks. Her foster father has a brother in some sort of trouble in some resistance movement in some Eastern European country and is coming to live with them.
Bess' book "Rape in a Foxhole" is a big success. Thing they'll turn that one into a movie? With a title like that, how can they resist? She tells her lover that she needs a bigger apartment for a special guest, but doesn't say any more. Well, at least she's given some thought to the girl.
Not a moment too soon, because the foster family is in serious trouble. The go get the brother in his dank Eastern European country where it's rainy and cold (remember, "Lace" was made in 1984, when bashing Commies was all the rage). As they go back into a sunny Western European country, they are about to be stopped by a guard at the border and have to run for their lives. The kid might as well be wearing a target on her head, sporting a red knit cap. Off they go through the woods, quietly on their way to safety, trying to avoid the soldiers patrolling the area. "We shouldn't have brought the child," the foster mother says. You think? Lady, you get no more foster kids!
Unfortunately, the soldiers find them and foster mom, foster dad and foster uncle are mowed down. A dozen or so soldiers with dogs surround her. What will become of the child?
It remains a mystery, because when Aunt Hortense goes to make her monthly payment, she finds out that the last one has come back unopened. Should the banker check up on them? "By all means! This is most peculiar," Angela chimes, praying she doesn't have to use this funky accent much longer.
Bad news in the Kingdom of...not a real Arab country. The King dies and her prince is now King. He won't see her, and his minions won't let her near him either. He has responsibilities now. He can't just kick around an affair with an Englishwoman now. I guess they haven't seen the 1986 miniseries "Harem," which clearly allows Western women in the harem. Brooke returns to Mum and the fat farm. Mum sends for Arielle, who shows up to be told by the old woman, "She drinks. She drinks ever since she returned from the Middle East." Arielle tells Brooke the good news! She was going to call for the kid in a month, but since Brooke has nothing else to do, she'll have the kid sent to Brooke. Good idea. Give the kid to an alcoholic.
Enough with the child (two seconds is more than any of these women ever care to think about her anymore) because Arielle and Brooke have to dash to New York to celebrate the opening of Bess' magazine. The party takes place in a big room where the worst singer in television history ruins "Georgia On My Mind." "Through thick/sick and thin/sin," they yell when coming down the stairs to find Bess. Brooke is introduced to Nickolas, and her first line to him is, "I haven't got a drink. Maxine (Arielle) says if you share some one's drink, you share their dreams." "Share my drink?" Nickolas asks? That's courtship for ya!
In the middle of the party, with the singer at full tilt, Aunt Hortense calls, full of hysterics and hysterical acting, to inform the women that the kid is dead. "We killed her, all of us," Arielle wails. "I need a drink," Brooke adds. Bess is the voice of reason. She reminds them that they have let six years pass without really lifting a finger to help the kid. "Let's be honest. A six year old girl was killed and none of us really knew her," Brooke notes. "None of us really wanted to," adds Bess. The women decide they have nothing more to say to each other and Arielle and Brooke leave the party...with the crooner doing "George On My Mind" again! Does he only know three songs? Only I noticed this? Okay, bad news has hit them, but Bess has a magazine, Arielle a wonderful life and Brooke even met a man that night!
Back in the present, Phoebe returns. It's been a long time since we've seen her harpy act. Phoebe says the kid wasn't dead, but lived in a camp for 10 years. "You know what I expected? Or hoped? Stupid me. I hoped one of you would hold out your arms to me and call me Elizabeth," expecting a reaction from them. Brooke stands up grandly, walks over to Phoebe...and keeps on walking over to the bar. The three don't believe Phoebe's story, especially since she's been so evil to them. "I wanted to make each of you suffer," Phoebe snarls at them "Still no open arms? Still so afraid?" Geez, this dame doesn't know when to quit. More bees with honey? Not our Phoebe! She has to drive the nails in further. "Who wants a porno queen for a daughter?" she yells, but the three are unmoved because they still think the story may be false and she's after her own publicity. She tries another tactic...why not pit them against each other? "It would be so easy for two of you to save your fancy skins and point your fingers at the other," she offers, but the three just look down at the carpet. After railing and begging, she then throws them all out, deciding, "none of you is good enough to be my mother." Oh, and the cancer fund is saved, the magazine article is true and Simon can return to his mother. As they trot out, Phoebe glides up her stairs recounting the details of her birth, the doctor, the foster family, all the details.
Now why didn't she say that earlier? Couldn't we have lopped at least an hour of this scene alone? No guarantees mom would have raised her hand, but it would have saved an awful lot of cheap dialogue for "Lace II."
The three possible mothers congregate in the hotel bar where a female singer is just as bad as the male singer we heard a few scenes ago. "Through th..." Yeah, we get it, as they clink glasses. They start to laugh, thinking of the gossip that would swirl around them if this got out, but it's not really funny. "I guess we're too ashamed to cry," Arielle offers. "Well, at least it brought us together again," they note. But, what are they going to do about Phoebe. Should they take a vote, like old times? "I think this time Elizabeth's real mother is all on her own," Bess says, and the others agree. Christmas music rings out in the bar, with no two drunk people singing the same words to the song.
Phoebe is lounging in her bed when the phone rings. It's the hotel manager. One of his employees has let her mother up. Phoebe rises from the bed in a full marabou gown, does a few bird flaps (for no reason) and waits for mom to arrive. Back to the flaps. Why? It's insane! It's truly the definition of this movie. Does she flap when nervous?
Feet ascend the stairs to Phoebe's room. In her marabou, Phoebe answers the door to find...should I tell you? I mean, wouldn't it ruin the surprise?
Don't worry. There is still "Lace II" to bring it all home for us.
Actually, you should worry, because "Lace II" is unbearably bad, where "Lace" is gleefully charming in its lunacy. It thrives on it. If it didn't, someone would have stopped Phoebe Cates from working as hard as she does to fly so far over the top. "Lace" is one of the best pieces of trash the US miniseries movement ever produced, the kind that was exported all over the world so everyone could chant, "which one of you bitches is my mother," no matter what his or her mother tongue is. It's the Coca-Cola of miniseries. Everyone knows it. Everyone has seen it. No one wants to admit it, but it's a guilty pleasure in which to revel.
So, everyone, grab your marabou and flap away! We'll get to "Lace II" soon enough.
For Nancy.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Harem (1986)
Here we have the bodice-ripper on view, a romance novel on TV. Or at least that what the title and locale would lead one to expect. Owing a lot to "The Sheik," some 60+ years old by the time "Harem" was made, both long out of fashion and not a very good movie itself, there's something exceedingly puerile in its zeal to make us wonder whether Western or Eastern culture has it better. David Lean's extraordinary "A Passage to India" had been filmed only a few years before, winning Oscars and applause, and set the standard for this sort of story for at least the rest of the decade. If "Harem" weren't so unintentionally stupid and easy to laugh at, it would be exceedingly boring.
Before the movie starts, we're treated to a two sentence history of the Ottoman Empire, now in its decline. And then this: "It was also at this time that there were reports of foreign women being kidnapped and sold into the Sultan's Harem. Suddenly forced into a kind of life and culture they never knew existed, their safety always in question--these western women were force to live on eastern terms."
Forget being astoundingly politically incorrect even by 1986, forget this image of the lily white innocent virgin being conscripted into the sensual life of the Orient a cliche by 1886, so much so that even great authors were spoofing it (read a "Passage to India" if you don't believe me), let alone 1986, forget the bad grammar, is this sentence meant to be frightening or funny? Let's let the movie tell us.
The leading lady is a problem right off the bat. First, it's Nancy Travis, a perpetual B-list actress without the sparkle to pull off this part. Second, before she even speaks a word, this early 20th Century gal is riding a horse and shooting with the men, an anomaly to her class and stature, and obviously something of oddity even to her fiance, Julian Sands. Nancy's family are a prim British lot (though Nancy lacks the accent everyone else displays because, as we're told in a line inserted into the script no doubt after a stab at the accent, her dead mother was American), with her aunt so worried about the number of settings and bridesmaids and propriety and her father eating hardboiled eggs with a fork and knife. All of this makes her ideal as a 1980s heroine, but completely wrong for a period piece.
Nancy harbors romantic notions of what marriage is like. She asks Aunt Lily (Georgine Anderson) what marriage is like, and the veddy veddy terse response is, "you'll get used to it." She then asks Julian to kiss her during a dance and their noses get in the way. I would say she had been reading too many romance novels, but she doesn't strike me as the reading type.
Julian is called to Damascus on diplomatic business, which means having to postpone the wedding. Nancy is disappointed (she drops her head, that's how we know), but Julian proposes getting married at the embassy in Constantinople. I hope someone wires the embassy!
Cue the camels, we've hit the Orient (as they called it back then). On the train, Julian introduces Nancy to Sarah Miles, as Lady Ashley, "the most famous Englishwoman in Damascus." Our gang hasn't even gotten off the train when a gaggle of Bedouins go rushing by in burnooses, shooting from their horses, forcing the train to stop. The board the train, one particularly excited by virginal Nancy Travis, though perhaps it's Julian Sands they are after. He's far prettier. There follows a political discourse between Sarah and Julian, offensive to just about every culture on earth at the time, but making a stab at sympathizing with the Turkish rebels who want to overthrow the Sultan.
The Turkish soldiers are a pretty nasty lot, killing a woman from the rebel camp in order to push someone to answer for the raid on the train. Their leader is Art Malik, as Tarik Pasha, a fairly handsome man who wants peace for his people. His aide tells him what they need to do is bargain with the Sultan for their freedom, but Art has nothing. So, they must get "what the Sultan wants most." If you've seen the cover of an East-meets-West romance novel, you'll know that is a blonde virgin.
Said virgin and her equally virginal husband show up at Sarah's to find Bedouins at her home, relatives on her husband's side. She foreshadows the whole plot by telling them that there is "still a touch of chivalry" among these misunderstood people. It seems Sarah's only purpose is to give society lessons of this new culture. Nancy is transfixed by the theory of "to be, to do, or have." She asks Sarah which she prefers. "Only when you have tasted the desert stillness can you know what it really is, just to be." Eh? Run that by me again. I guess it will make sense once Nancy is captured by the Sult...oops, getting ahead of myself. She's already beginning to change, questioning life, which upsets Julian.
In an outfit missing everything but a Baedeker hanging from it, Nancy trundles off to see some ruins with an elderly woman "wearing very sensible shoes," as Sarah puts it (in modern parlance, a lesbian). The guide is Art's henchman, so the plan is falling into place. The rebels come riding into town and Nancy grabs a knife, which doesn't help when she's pulled up on a horse and carried away. She lobs questions at Art, thankfully without Valentino's snorting nasal passages, who speaks perfect English, having been educated in England (we learned that a few scenes ago). Art is, naturally, immediately in love with Nancy, even giving her privacy when he insists she change into Bedouin dress. Miss Ahead-of-her-time fancy pants tells Art she doesn't know how to ride, to throw him off, and then mounts a horse perfectly and dashes off. He's better at the horse thing, so she doesn't get far.
The Great Sultan is played by Omar Sharif, a rare Arab role for the Egyptian-born erstwhile star of "Lawrence of Arabia" where he did play an Arab (he played an awful lot of Russians, and of course Jewish Nicky Arnstein in "Funny Girl"). A miniseries icon, Omar Sharif is here not just an Arab ruler, but a diplomat, wearing Western clothing and worrying about the rebels. His aide Agha, played by Yaphet Kotto, phoning it in BIG TIME! But, Yaphet knows the way to Omar's mind and heart is through his harem.
Nancy doesn't know it, but her world gets a bit smaller when her father dies in his sleep before finding her. Now it's up to Julian, and that's not a rosy prospect.
Art takes Nancy to Yaphet, who knows her worth, trading her for 20 prisoners. Nancy still wants to know what the hell is going on (it's a fair question for her character and anyone still watching), but Art doesn't tell her. Autocrat tells a captured British writer what he's allowed to discuss in his books: the Sultan is great, the rebels are bad, the weather is terrific. This is the message he wants sent to the rest of the world. Nancy shows up right after this tirade, entering the harem of beautiful women who all seem completely happy. Yaphet warns her that she can try to escape and face death, or learn to like the world and enjoy it. She's not convinced when another girl tells her how much of an honor it is to be in the Sultan's harem, and that it has many pleasures. The only bit of good news is that she doesn't have to worry about rape, since Yaphet and all the other men are eunuchs.
Nancy is brought to the head of the harem, played by (and I hope your chair has arms to grab onto) Ava Gardner. Yup, Ava Gardner. Not only is she the slumming vet, but this was her last movie. As the Sultan's wife, she looks far older than her years, but there's still a flash of her legendary beauty there. Ava pronounces naked Nancy "ordinary," but Yaphet and harem plotter Cherie Lunghi have decided they can work the Sultan through her and Cherie begs Ava for Nancy. Yeah, whatever, Ava says, no doubt killing time until the guy with the drink tray arrives.
A boat full of European finery arrives, much to the glee of the harem girls, and Cherie begins Nancy's training. Cherie sees Nancy as sexually frustrated. "This is a matter of manners, not morals," she says, spouting a Western ism with an unnatural flair. Meanwhile, Ava goes to Omar, begging him not to take the girls that night. He brushes her off with, "you gave me a son, that's enough." How long ago was that? Certainly not the recent past! The kid has to be collecting Turkish social security. Geez, she's been pining a super long time.
Then comes the most ridiculous scene yet, because right as we're starting to think perhaps the values of the East aren't so bad, the harem girls give Omar a fashion show in Western dress. Yup, a fashion show, complete with posing and turning to show off their finery. It's made even more ridiculous by Art giving a stirring speech right after, talking about dying children and starving people and breaking the "chain of oppression," time to fight. He's the greatest political speaker ever if you go by the number of extra hired to cheer him on, but he's shot right after the climax or his oratory. He's not dead, don't worry.
In fact, his arm is in a sling when he tries to convert David Gant, a high-level Turkish soldier with rebel leanings. He wants David (who would have been a better choice for the romantic lead, if you ask me) to join his side with all the other soldiers, but an answer to that will have to wait.
More important, apparently, is a trip to the marketplace arranged for Nancy by Cherie and Yaphet. Nancy knocks Cherie over and makes a dash through the bazaar. Certainly no one will notice the blonde lady dressed in the burnoose. Sadly for her, she gets her costume trapped on a basket (and is apparently not stronger than wicker), only to be caught by a man who promises to return her to Julian at the embassy. Unfortunately for her (and the story), he turns her in to Yaphet instead.
Ava, in a marabou muumuu, confronts one of the girls who is pregnant. "Who is the father?" Ava nefariously asks. The girl says of course the Sultan is the father. She is protected from harm because her name was inscribed in the great book of Omar's conquests Ava, the muumuu unwrapped to reveal a costume that looks about 400 years out of fashion, has removed her name from the great book, which makes the woman's baby a bastard, and Ava has her drowned in front of the harem. It's too much for Nancy to bear, but Cheri and Yaphet use it as a teaching moment: "this is what happens to unprotected girls," they tell her. Take a lesson, ladies: don't follow the rules and you have to share a scene with an overacting gorgon, and not just that, only she gets shot in soft focus. You get full lights!
Nancy gives in and Cherie starts the training again. As we hear Cherie spouting Ottoman fortune cookie sentences about learning to accept one's body, Nancy toys with nudity, different fabrics, baths with rose petals, and splish splashing with other girls. She kind of digs it and Cherie pronounces her ready to be seen by Omar, though not bedded by him yet. Cherie teaches more, as Nancy stands around gyrating her arms and learning about jewels.
You may be wondering what happened to Julian. Oh, he's been looking for her and provided she's being stashed in the embassy, he'll find her, because he hasn't ventured out any further than his bedroom, the yutz. The ambassador refuses to help him until there is proof that the Sultan has him. Omar gives a great party and his girls entertain the British. Julian shows a flash of gumption and almost invades the harem where Omar has gone to watch all of his girls drop their veils. He goes over to Nancy, who hasn't dropped hers (though it's sheer, so there's nothing not shown) and when she goes, Omar all but pounces, much to Ava's chagrin. She's now IN as far as harem girls go. She is on call whenever he wants.
With Cherie preaching yet again, this time about how aphrodisiacs are stupid and it's all about a woman's charms, Sarah pops by to visit her pal Ava, in the hopes of spotting Nancy and helping Julian. Sarah speaks of "kidnappings" to bring new girls to the harem, but Ava ends that conversation quickly. "When I was the Sultan's favorite..." is the way Cherie begins EVERY sentence, and then follows it with an annoying bit of harem wisdom. Nancy is on the verge of getting them sick of them, until Cherie mentions it might be the way to her freedom. Sarah sees Nancy on the way out and Nancy is bereft, and Cherie tells her not think about her. The Sultan is her "only hope." At the speed Omar moves, that's a long shot.
The ambassador does not want to move quickly, instead trying to please the Sultan with presents. He has to be politic about things, on two accounts: first, the Sultan has no interest in the British, who are afraid of him and second, the ambassador is worried that Nancy is now deflowered and not fit for society. Sarah suggests to Julian that Art can help, if Julian pays him. There's a fun little twist: the man who put her in the harem now has to get her out. Art agrees. After all, it's a lot of money. "It will end in either freedom or death," Art boasts to Julian, who is a bit wishy-washy about the plan.
Only eunuchs are allowed in the Sultan's palace, and the local doctor says he can make Art one and have him in the palace in a month, but Art is the hero, he ain't gettin' anything chopped off! He bribes the doctor to lie and say he's a eunuch so he can get inside ASAP, which is a good thing because Nancy is summoned to Omar's chamber that night. With half of the movie still left to go, this is going to be one looooooong game to get her out. But, remember, Nancy is kind of liking the massages and pretty clothes, so she seems less in a hurry than even two scenes ago.
They doll Nancy up in ropes of pearls all over her body and a rather unflattering outfit, but a make-up job straight out of, well, 1986. She's missing only shoulder pads for her walk-on in party scene on "Dynasty." However, when she trots off to the Sultan, she's removed all the jewels, the fabulous gown and most of her make-up, opting instead of what seems to be a maternity gown. As she's led to the Sultan, she spots Art among the eunuchs and the look on his face doesn't say, "I'm here to free you," but rather, "I'm here to do you."
Nancy bows to Omar, happy with his hookah, and forget to unbow. "Are you going to watch the floor for the rest of the evening?" he asks. Nancy decides to be honest with Omar, who is disarmed by her. He then shows her a picture of Teddy Roosevelt and they discuss him a bit. He asks her about her small-town upbringing, not understanding what a "front porch" is. "You've never been to America! You should go," she says. Unfortunately, he's never left the palace. His spies tell him everything, what does he need to go out for? And there we have it, the sympathy card. He's just as much a prisoner as she is. Well, kind of. He is the Sultan and she's a harem girl. He beckons her to bed, but she bravely suggests that if she shag then and now, it will only be on command, not because she wants him. She wants to be wooed. So, they spend the night laughing by the window. In the morning, she's still a virgin, and Cherie reminds her, "true power comes only after making love to a man." Wait, she never said that before! Nancy figured that out all by herself, somehow.
In the softest focus yet, Ava has a scene (shot through plants no less, because Art is lurking behind them) where she worries about Nancy taking the Sultan's love from her. This is a rather bizarre scene because we've seen how Ava dispenses with the other girls, why should Nancy be any different? Yaphet catches Art spying and vows his loyalty to Yaphet, who gets him a job as Nancy's personal bodyguard. They quarrel like all movie characters who don't yet know they are in love and the reveals to her that he was sent by her fiance, who by the way, is spending his time in the embassy being insulted by British ladies who think Nancy is with the Sultan because she wants to be.
Omar turns to Nancy to help him make political decisions. OH, COME ON! Now we've moved beyond "The Sheik" and gone to "The King and I," but Omar is too shady to be the King of Siam and Nancy too bland to be either Mrs. Anna or Tuptim. Just Art and Nancy are about to escape, Yaphet, in his American accent, arrives with Omar, who doesn't want an orgy, just some alone time with his new favorite. "How am I to court you?" he petulantly asks Nancy, who admits to being uninterested in jewels or gowns. He offers to make her a second wife, but she reminds him that in America, a man can have only one wife, but he doesn't care about that, so she tries another stumbling block. "If we were married, I would want to be a virgin on my wedding night" and Omar says he wants an experienced gal. "This Western courtship is beginning to bore me," Omar sighs, but before the conversation can go further, Omar is informed that the rebels are at the palace gates. Indeed, not only the rebels, but the soldiers. The Sultan's men fire on the crowd, killing a giant number of unarmed men, much to the consternation of some of the palace guards. Omar refuses to believe there is a problem, but Art tells Nancy his men are inside the palace and it is impossible for anyone to escape. Oh, and he'll sleep in her bedroom that night for protection. That's convenient (though nothing happens).
The next morning, Ava looks like she's nursing the empire's biggest hangover as she plots to have Nancy killed. Luckily, Art is there and can fight off the two assassins who have come in clown make-up and fezzes to murder her. I can't explain the make-up, but my guess is it's unused budget. Since this movie has only two sets and it seems the harem girls provided their own costumes, "Harem" cost only Ava's martini budget and a few incidentals, so by the time this scene was filmed, there was cash at hand (this movie looks like it was filmed for about $437 at a time when every large miniseries was claiming to be the most expensive ever filmed).
At a council of ministers, Nancy offers up her opinion, in the form of questions, much to the horror of Yaphet and Ava and the rest (well, not horror, since none of them care to register that much emotion), and Omar actually asks for Nancy's advice. She even defends him to Art, who ask her to "join the revolutionaries." She refuses and now the would-be lovers have another argument. Nancy thinks she can be more powerful on the inside as the Sultan's "conscience," a new idea she's taught him, but Art wants her to be on the side of freedom. She scoffs at him as the man who got her into this predicament, thus assuring the movie at least an extra hour when it could be wrapped up in ten minutes.
Omar takes Nancy out of the palace, his first time out, to visit his realm. He and Nancy even dress up as plain old folks to visit the marketplace. No one recognized him? He is the Sultan and his image would be everywhere, to say nothing of rebels following his every move. They visit some holy men (actual whirling dervishes, to be exact), and though Yaphet brings Nancy to watch, he tells her politics don't involve her. His character is maddeningly inconsistent. What the hell side is he on?
The Sultan decides to crush the rebellion and suddenly Nancy realizes the autocratic way is wrong, so she dashes back to Art to tell him the secret plans. If that were followed by a climactic fight scene, it might be exciting, but instead we have a tender scene where Art explains how he became a rebel (dead mother took bullets for him, dignity in life, all that nonsense), and of course delivered at dusk to have the most beautiful lighting possible. In the morning, one of Nancy's ladies brings in breakfast to find Art and Nancy have slept way too close together in the room to be proper. Even worse, Ava has summoned her.
What's Ava been up to? She's cutting off her hair to mix it in potions. On her way to Ava, Nancy takes secret plans to smuggle out of the palace on a riverboat excursion where Cherie tells Nancy she has to sleep with Omar or risk losing his interest. Art is the boatman, so he's not at all happy. For Nancy's meeting with Ava, Sarah is there as well. They have to pretend they don't know each other as Sarah peppers Nancy with leading questions, though she seems to realize Nancy has changed and may not be the same woman who was stolen from Julian. She gives her a jewel and the secret plans to smuggle out. The harem girls dance to ragtime (where did they ever get records and learn the dance) as Ava poisons Nancy's coffee. The plan backfires when Nancy refuses the coffee and Cherie ends up drinking it.
Dimwit Julian is confused by the note Sarah has brought to him from Nancy. He can't believe she wrote the note, but Sarah convinces him to trust her and then goes off to relay a response. Julian is doubly horrified that she is involved in politics. From the onset, she's been involved in everything!
Dying is not quick for Cherie, who hacks up a lot and then tells Nancy that there is a poison untraceable in cold coffee (not just any coffee, cold coffee), and she got it by the river. "It was meant for me," Nancy says. It took that long to figure it out, huh? "It was meant for all of us," Cherie says and dies. Feeling guilty and touched by all the people she has met at the harem (which would include only Cherie and Art who have been nice to her), she needs to stay put and send Art off to his men. "Come back for me," she says and then they gaze longingly at each other. I guess the kiss will have to wait.
Art rushes to David, who still may or may not be loyal to the cause, but there is no way into his palace. But, if they can draw the Sultan out...yeah, you get it! There is some tripe about rebellious Armenians and they can use them to get the Sultan's forces from the palace. But what of the women and children (we have yet to see a child in this whole movie) who might be killed? Well, "people die in revolutions" is the rationale David gives. Everyone buys it without thinking, but they still don't know if David will join the cause. Art has to make a side trip back to the palace to save Nancy, because he doesn't want her dying in the siege. This annoys his companions, who haven't had to think about Art in love before.
When he does return, he gets the royal treatment. She bathes his feet, lights candles, the whole shebang. Ava even lets them borrow the soft focus lenses for their big kiss so it looks extra romantic. With cascading violins, Art helps Nancy lose that pesky virginity.
But there is a problem. Ava has apparently noticed her special cameras have been taken and she's standing in the doorway when Nancy and Art awake. "Stupid...stupid girl!" Ava oozes. She's taken to Omar and Ava insists that she be drowned. Yaphet says that hasn't been done for years, but Ava says the Sultan hasn't been betrayed for years. In front of everyone (and notice that Omar is wearing a Western suit, because his Sultan gowns would make Eastern ways too evil), the Sultan has Art whipped. Art lies, saying he's a spy and he raped Nancy, but Ava says, "he's lying. She was clinging to him like a LOVER!" There's a problem with that lie and Omar, for the first time in the movie, is smart enough to figure something out. "If this man is telling the truth, you should want him dead," he tells Nancy, saying that she holds his life in her hands. As he's being strangled, she finally stops it all with a big howl and that crying without tears that only actresses and cloying babies can manage.
Though Yaphet sympathizes with her, he has to oversee Nancy's death. She is placed in a burlap sack filled with rocks to be tossed into the sea. He's careful to not actually tie the top of the sack in the hopes that she can wriggle out of it somehow. Her trip to the bottom of the Bosporus is charming. There are dozens of sacks with bones. But, Nancy gets out of her sack and kicks her way up where she's picked up by a ship of men, one of whom pipes in, "I was sure she was a Mermaid for sure." In a naval pinafore, she's reunited with Julian, though with a hug, not a kiss. She asks to see her father. Ooooh, riiiiiiight, um, yeah, someone has to tell her he's dead. Before that happens, she and Julian have to have the discussion of whether or not they still love each other. She tries her best to worm out of it, but Julian swears he can forgive her anything she's done. Only then does he tell her papa ain't no more.
Sarah chides Nancy for walking around the embassy in a nightgown. "It's not very British, you know." Nancy has gotten used to the loose clothing. She then decides she has to go to rescue Art, owing him a debt, promising that she'll be back to spend the rest of her lifetime with Julian (yikes, she would be better off dying with Art in the attack on the palace). She dashes off to the camp of his friends, but they can't risk sending anyone to the palace, so Nancy begs to go herself, because who knows the palace better than she does? One of the men suggests she knows only the harem, and he's not wrong, because remember, we've only ever seen the harem. The set budget didn't include the rest of the palace. Nancy is given a soldier's uniform, but warned to forget Art, because his only loyalty is to his country and cause. Apparently no one but Nancy and Art ever read a romance novel. As she's about to leave, the camp is surrounded...by David's men. Yes, he's joined the rebels! You doubters who didn't think he would, shame on you! Everyone always goes to the side of good before it's too late when up against an autocracy. DUH!
Nancy sneaks into the palace dressed as a soldier, a mute soldier, the clever little thing! She finds her way to Art's cell, revealing herself to him "as a dream." Only a man stuck in a cell ready to die would have that dream, but these two are goofy in love for each other. Art is chained in a box and paraded through the city as a warning to anyone hiding rebels. No one in the city helps. That's going to be a problem for the Sultan, in the long run. The executioner goes to cut off Art's head, but instead cuts off his shackles. It's Nancy! We should have guessed something like this would happen because every time the executioner has been shown, it's been with a black mask. Now the rebels come out from everywhere, surround the Sultan's loyal men and there is a ton of happiness. "You lead us to the palace, you have earned the right," they tell Nancy, now apparently Joan of Arc.
Omar and Ava are caught seemingly unaware (well, Ava wasn't aware of much by 1986) and the rebels storm the palace. Ava is led away by the guards, looking at Nancy with a look that says, "I'll get you, my pretty one!" Yaphet asks Omar what his plans are...only to find out he actually has plans because he's always waiting for revolution. Art and Nancy find him in his throne room waiting peacefully, except for the machine guns he had installed behind him, operated by a control from his throne. Nancy has forgotten about that until he fires them, but Art saves her life. Omar decides right then and there to become a constitutional monarch, "with no real power" and issues a declaration to have a parliament elected. That's convenient! Now everyone is a hero. How come this never occurred to Charles I of England or Louis XVI of France, yet Omar Sharif figures it out in 15 seconds.
Art takes Nancy back to Julian, who snaps at her, rather unfairly, that he thought anything requiring forgiveness was for whatever happened in the harem, not falling in love with Art, which he can see very clearly. Nancy has to catch the train to England, getting a few more pearls of hokey wisdom from Sarah. And then, shots ring out from across the sand dunes. Art has come to claim his woman, though Julian thinks her foolish. "I won't wait for you again," he sneers. Oh, like she cares? Not when dashing Art comes galloping over to claim her, disproving the theory that everyone has had, that he can't run a rebellion and be in love at the same time.
In the sub-genre of romance miniseries, there are some very passionate and real entries. There is also a whole bunch of trash, and even the trash is varied. There is delicious trash like "Lace" or "Evergreen" and there is out-and-out trash like "Harem." Lacking any sense of sensuality, completely miscast and so predictable a child could figure out every ensuing scene, "Harem" is a piece that simply took advantage of the genre, assuming that something big and foreign would triumph over its tedious unwrapping.
We should feel most sorry for poor Ava Gardner, capping off her career here. Yes, she had an erratic career, mostly because of her own misbehavior, but she certainly didn't do anything bad enough to earn her role here!
Before the movie starts, we're treated to a two sentence history of the Ottoman Empire, now in its decline. And then this: "It was also at this time that there were reports of foreign women being kidnapped and sold into the Sultan's Harem. Suddenly forced into a kind of life and culture they never knew existed, their safety always in question--these western women were force to live on eastern terms."
Forget being astoundingly politically incorrect even by 1986, forget this image of the lily white innocent virgin being conscripted into the sensual life of the Orient a cliche by 1886, so much so that even great authors were spoofing it (read a "Passage to India" if you don't believe me), let alone 1986, forget the bad grammar, is this sentence meant to be frightening or funny? Let's let the movie tell us.
The leading lady is a problem right off the bat. First, it's Nancy Travis, a perpetual B-list actress without the sparkle to pull off this part. Second, before she even speaks a word, this early 20th Century gal is riding a horse and shooting with the men, an anomaly to her class and stature, and obviously something of oddity even to her fiance, Julian Sands. Nancy's family are a prim British lot (though Nancy lacks the accent everyone else displays because, as we're told in a line inserted into the script no doubt after a stab at the accent, her dead mother was American), with her aunt so worried about the number of settings and bridesmaids and propriety and her father eating hardboiled eggs with a fork and knife. All of this makes her ideal as a 1980s heroine, but completely wrong for a period piece.
Nancy harbors romantic notions of what marriage is like. She asks Aunt Lily (Georgine Anderson) what marriage is like, and the veddy veddy terse response is, "you'll get used to it." She then asks Julian to kiss her during a dance and their noses get in the way. I would say she had been reading too many romance novels, but she doesn't strike me as the reading type.
Julian is called to Damascus on diplomatic business, which means having to postpone the wedding. Nancy is disappointed (she drops her head, that's how we know), but Julian proposes getting married at the embassy in Constantinople. I hope someone wires the embassy!
Cue the camels, we've hit the Orient (as they called it back then). On the train, Julian introduces Nancy to Sarah Miles, as Lady Ashley, "the most famous Englishwoman in Damascus." Our gang hasn't even gotten off the train when a gaggle of Bedouins go rushing by in burnooses, shooting from their horses, forcing the train to stop. The board the train, one particularly excited by virginal Nancy Travis, though perhaps it's Julian Sands they are after. He's far prettier. There follows a political discourse between Sarah and Julian, offensive to just about every culture on earth at the time, but making a stab at sympathizing with the Turkish rebels who want to overthrow the Sultan.
The Turkish soldiers are a pretty nasty lot, killing a woman from the rebel camp in order to push someone to answer for the raid on the train. Their leader is Art Malik, as Tarik Pasha, a fairly handsome man who wants peace for his people. His aide tells him what they need to do is bargain with the Sultan for their freedom, but Art has nothing. So, they must get "what the Sultan wants most." If you've seen the cover of an East-meets-West romance novel, you'll know that is a blonde virgin.
Said virgin and her equally virginal husband show up at Sarah's to find Bedouins at her home, relatives on her husband's side. She foreshadows the whole plot by telling them that there is "still a touch of chivalry" among these misunderstood people. It seems Sarah's only purpose is to give society lessons of this new culture. Nancy is transfixed by the theory of "to be, to do, or have." She asks Sarah which she prefers. "Only when you have tasted the desert stillness can you know what it really is, just to be." Eh? Run that by me again. I guess it will make sense once Nancy is captured by the Sult...oops, getting ahead of myself. She's already beginning to change, questioning life, which upsets Julian.
In an outfit missing everything but a Baedeker hanging from it, Nancy trundles off to see some ruins with an elderly woman "wearing very sensible shoes," as Sarah puts it (in modern parlance, a lesbian). The guide is Art's henchman, so the plan is falling into place. The rebels come riding into town and Nancy grabs a knife, which doesn't help when she's pulled up on a horse and carried away. She lobs questions at Art, thankfully without Valentino's snorting nasal passages, who speaks perfect English, having been educated in England (we learned that a few scenes ago). Art is, naturally, immediately in love with Nancy, even giving her privacy when he insists she change into Bedouin dress. Miss Ahead-of-her-time fancy pants tells Art she doesn't know how to ride, to throw him off, and then mounts a horse perfectly and dashes off. He's better at the horse thing, so she doesn't get far.
The Great Sultan is played by Omar Sharif, a rare Arab role for the Egyptian-born erstwhile star of "Lawrence of Arabia" where he did play an Arab (he played an awful lot of Russians, and of course Jewish Nicky Arnstein in "Funny Girl"). A miniseries icon, Omar Sharif is here not just an Arab ruler, but a diplomat, wearing Western clothing and worrying about the rebels. His aide Agha, played by Yaphet Kotto, phoning it in BIG TIME! But, Yaphet knows the way to Omar's mind and heart is through his harem.
Nancy doesn't know it, but her world gets a bit smaller when her father dies in his sleep before finding her. Now it's up to Julian, and that's not a rosy prospect.
Art takes Nancy to Yaphet, who knows her worth, trading her for 20 prisoners. Nancy still wants to know what the hell is going on (it's a fair question for her character and anyone still watching), but Art doesn't tell her. Autocrat tells a captured British writer what he's allowed to discuss in his books: the Sultan is great, the rebels are bad, the weather is terrific. This is the message he wants sent to the rest of the world. Nancy shows up right after this tirade, entering the harem of beautiful women who all seem completely happy. Yaphet warns her that she can try to escape and face death, or learn to like the world and enjoy it. She's not convinced when another girl tells her how much of an honor it is to be in the Sultan's harem, and that it has many pleasures. The only bit of good news is that she doesn't have to worry about rape, since Yaphet and all the other men are eunuchs.
Nancy is brought to the head of the harem, played by (and I hope your chair has arms to grab onto) Ava Gardner. Yup, Ava Gardner. Not only is she the slumming vet, but this was her last movie. As the Sultan's wife, she looks far older than her years, but there's still a flash of her legendary beauty there. Ava pronounces naked Nancy "ordinary," but Yaphet and harem plotter Cherie Lunghi have decided they can work the Sultan through her and Cherie begs Ava for Nancy. Yeah, whatever, Ava says, no doubt killing time until the guy with the drink tray arrives.
A boat full of European finery arrives, much to the glee of the harem girls, and Cherie begins Nancy's training. Cherie sees Nancy as sexually frustrated. "This is a matter of manners, not morals," she says, spouting a Western ism with an unnatural flair. Meanwhile, Ava goes to Omar, begging him not to take the girls that night. He brushes her off with, "you gave me a son, that's enough." How long ago was that? Certainly not the recent past! The kid has to be collecting Turkish social security. Geez, she's been pining a super long time.
Then comes the most ridiculous scene yet, because right as we're starting to think perhaps the values of the East aren't so bad, the harem girls give Omar a fashion show in Western dress. Yup, a fashion show, complete with posing and turning to show off their finery. It's made even more ridiculous by Art giving a stirring speech right after, talking about dying children and starving people and breaking the "chain of oppression," time to fight. He's the greatest political speaker ever if you go by the number of extra hired to cheer him on, but he's shot right after the climax or his oratory. He's not dead, don't worry.
In fact, his arm is in a sling when he tries to convert David Gant, a high-level Turkish soldier with rebel leanings. He wants David (who would have been a better choice for the romantic lead, if you ask me) to join his side with all the other soldiers, but an answer to that will have to wait.
More important, apparently, is a trip to the marketplace arranged for Nancy by Cherie and Yaphet. Nancy knocks Cherie over and makes a dash through the bazaar. Certainly no one will notice the blonde lady dressed in the burnoose. Sadly for her, she gets her costume trapped on a basket (and is apparently not stronger than wicker), only to be caught by a man who promises to return her to Julian at the embassy. Unfortunately for her (and the story), he turns her in to Yaphet instead.
Ava, in a marabou muumuu, confronts one of the girls who is pregnant. "Who is the father?" Ava nefariously asks. The girl says of course the Sultan is the father. She is protected from harm because her name was inscribed in the great book of Omar's conquests Ava, the muumuu unwrapped to reveal a costume that looks about 400 years out of fashion, has removed her name from the great book, which makes the woman's baby a bastard, and Ava has her drowned in front of the harem. It's too much for Nancy to bear, but Cheri and Yaphet use it as a teaching moment: "this is what happens to unprotected girls," they tell her. Take a lesson, ladies: don't follow the rules and you have to share a scene with an overacting gorgon, and not just that, only she gets shot in soft focus. You get full lights!
Nancy gives in and Cherie starts the training again. As we hear Cherie spouting Ottoman fortune cookie sentences about learning to accept one's body, Nancy toys with nudity, different fabrics, baths with rose petals, and splish splashing with other girls. She kind of digs it and Cherie pronounces her ready to be seen by Omar, though not bedded by him yet. Cherie teaches more, as Nancy stands around gyrating her arms and learning about jewels.
You may be wondering what happened to Julian. Oh, he's been looking for her and provided she's being stashed in the embassy, he'll find her, because he hasn't ventured out any further than his bedroom, the yutz. The ambassador refuses to help him until there is proof that the Sultan has him. Omar gives a great party and his girls entertain the British. Julian shows a flash of gumption and almost invades the harem where Omar has gone to watch all of his girls drop their veils. He goes over to Nancy, who hasn't dropped hers (though it's sheer, so there's nothing not shown) and when she goes, Omar all but pounces, much to Ava's chagrin. She's now IN as far as harem girls go. She is on call whenever he wants.
With Cherie preaching yet again, this time about how aphrodisiacs are stupid and it's all about a woman's charms, Sarah pops by to visit her pal Ava, in the hopes of spotting Nancy and helping Julian. Sarah speaks of "kidnappings" to bring new girls to the harem, but Ava ends that conversation quickly. "When I was the Sultan's favorite..." is the way Cherie begins EVERY sentence, and then follows it with an annoying bit of harem wisdom. Nancy is on the verge of getting them sick of them, until Cherie mentions it might be the way to her freedom. Sarah sees Nancy on the way out and Nancy is bereft, and Cherie tells her not think about her. The Sultan is her "only hope." At the speed Omar moves, that's a long shot.
The ambassador does not want to move quickly, instead trying to please the Sultan with presents. He has to be politic about things, on two accounts: first, the Sultan has no interest in the British, who are afraid of him and second, the ambassador is worried that Nancy is now deflowered and not fit for society. Sarah suggests to Julian that Art can help, if Julian pays him. There's a fun little twist: the man who put her in the harem now has to get her out. Art agrees. After all, it's a lot of money. "It will end in either freedom or death," Art boasts to Julian, who is a bit wishy-washy about the plan.
Only eunuchs are allowed in the Sultan's palace, and the local doctor says he can make Art one and have him in the palace in a month, but Art is the hero, he ain't gettin' anything chopped off! He bribes the doctor to lie and say he's a eunuch so he can get inside ASAP, which is a good thing because Nancy is summoned to Omar's chamber that night. With half of the movie still left to go, this is going to be one looooooong game to get her out. But, remember, Nancy is kind of liking the massages and pretty clothes, so she seems less in a hurry than even two scenes ago.
They doll Nancy up in ropes of pearls all over her body and a rather unflattering outfit, but a make-up job straight out of, well, 1986. She's missing only shoulder pads for her walk-on in party scene on "Dynasty." However, when she trots off to the Sultan, she's removed all the jewels, the fabulous gown and most of her make-up, opting instead of what seems to be a maternity gown. As she's led to the Sultan, she spots Art among the eunuchs and the look on his face doesn't say, "I'm here to free you," but rather, "I'm here to do you."
Nancy bows to Omar, happy with his hookah, and forget to unbow. "Are you going to watch the floor for the rest of the evening?" he asks. Nancy decides to be honest with Omar, who is disarmed by her. He then shows her a picture of Teddy Roosevelt and they discuss him a bit. He asks her about her small-town upbringing, not understanding what a "front porch" is. "You've never been to America! You should go," she says. Unfortunately, he's never left the palace. His spies tell him everything, what does he need to go out for? And there we have it, the sympathy card. He's just as much a prisoner as she is. Well, kind of. He is the Sultan and she's a harem girl. He beckons her to bed, but she bravely suggests that if she shag then and now, it will only be on command, not because she wants him. She wants to be wooed. So, they spend the night laughing by the window. In the morning, she's still a virgin, and Cherie reminds her, "true power comes only after making love to a man." Wait, she never said that before! Nancy figured that out all by herself, somehow.
In the softest focus yet, Ava has a scene (shot through plants no less, because Art is lurking behind them) where she worries about Nancy taking the Sultan's love from her. This is a rather bizarre scene because we've seen how Ava dispenses with the other girls, why should Nancy be any different? Yaphet catches Art spying and vows his loyalty to Yaphet, who gets him a job as Nancy's personal bodyguard. They quarrel like all movie characters who don't yet know they are in love and the reveals to her that he was sent by her fiance, who by the way, is spending his time in the embassy being insulted by British ladies who think Nancy is with the Sultan because she wants to be.
Omar turns to Nancy to help him make political decisions. OH, COME ON! Now we've moved beyond "The Sheik" and gone to "The King and I," but Omar is too shady to be the King of Siam and Nancy too bland to be either Mrs. Anna or Tuptim. Just Art and Nancy are about to escape, Yaphet, in his American accent, arrives with Omar, who doesn't want an orgy, just some alone time with his new favorite. "How am I to court you?" he petulantly asks Nancy, who admits to being uninterested in jewels or gowns. He offers to make her a second wife, but she reminds him that in America, a man can have only one wife, but he doesn't care about that, so she tries another stumbling block. "If we were married, I would want to be a virgin on my wedding night" and Omar says he wants an experienced gal. "This Western courtship is beginning to bore me," Omar sighs, but before the conversation can go further, Omar is informed that the rebels are at the palace gates. Indeed, not only the rebels, but the soldiers. The Sultan's men fire on the crowd, killing a giant number of unarmed men, much to the consternation of some of the palace guards. Omar refuses to believe there is a problem, but Art tells Nancy his men are inside the palace and it is impossible for anyone to escape. Oh, and he'll sleep in her bedroom that night for protection. That's convenient (though nothing happens).
The next morning, Ava looks like she's nursing the empire's biggest hangover as she plots to have Nancy killed. Luckily, Art is there and can fight off the two assassins who have come in clown make-up and fezzes to murder her. I can't explain the make-up, but my guess is it's unused budget. Since this movie has only two sets and it seems the harem girls provided their own costumes, "Harem" cost only Ava's martini budget and a few incidentals, so by the time this scene was filmed, there was cash at hand (this movie looks like it was filmed for about $437 at a time when every large miniseries was claiming to be the most expensive ever filmed).
At a council of ministers, Nancy offers up her opinion, in the form of questions, much to the horror of Yaphet and Ava and the rest (well, not horror, since none of them care to register that much emotion), and Omar actually asks for Nancy's advice. She even defends him to Art, who ask her to "join the revolutionaries." She refuses and now the would-be lovers have another argument. Nancy thinks she can be more powerful on the inside as the Sultan's "conscience," a new idea she's taught him, but Art wants her to be on the side of freedom. She scoffs at him as the man who got her into this predicament, thus assuring the movie at least an extra hour when it could be wrapped up in ten minutes.
Omar takes Nancy out of the palace, his first time out, to visit his realm. He and Nancy even dress up as plain old folks to visit the marketplace. No one recognized him? He is the Sultan and his image would be everywhere, to say nothing of rebels following his every move. They visit some holy men (actual whirling dervishes, to be exact), and though Yaphet brings Nancy to watch, he tells her politics don't involve her. His character is maddeningly inconsistent. What the hell side is he on?
The Sultan decides to crush the rebellion and suddenly Nancy realizes the autocratic way is wrong, so she dashes back to Art to tell him the secret plans. If that were followed by a climactic fight scene, it might be exciting, but instead we have a tender scene where Art explains how he became a rebel (dead mother took bullets for him, dignity in life, all that nonsense), and of course delivered at dusk to have the most beautiful lighting possible. In the morning, one of Nancy's ladies brings in breakfast to find Art and Nancy have slept way too close together in the room to be proper. Even worse, Ava has summoned her.
What's Ava been up to? She's cutting off her hair to mix it in potions. On her way to Ava, Nancy takes secret plans to smuggle out of the palace on a riverboat excursion where Cherie tells Nancy she has to sleep with Omar or risk losing his interest. Art is the boatman, so he's not at all happy. For Nancy's meeting with Ava, Sarah is there as well. They have to pretend they don't know each other as Sarah peppers Nancy with leading questions, though she seems to realize Nancy has changed and may not be the same woman who was stolen from Julian. She gives her a jewel and the secret plans to smuggle out. The harem girls dance to ragtime (where did they ever get records and learn the dance) as Ava poisons Nancy's coffee. The plan backfires when Nancy refuses the coffee and Cherie ends up drinking it.
Dimwit Julian is confused by the note Sarah has brought to him from Nancy. He can't believe she wrote the note, but Sarah convinces him to trust her and then goes off to relay a response. Julian is doubly horrified that she is involved in politics. From the onset, she's been involved in everything!
Dying is not quick for Cherie, who hacks up a lot and then tells Nancy that there is a poison untraceable in cold coffee (not just any coffee, cold coffee), and she got it by the river. "It was meant for me," Nancy says. It took that long to figure it out, huh? "It was meant for all of us," Cherie says and dies. Feeling guilty and touched by all the people she has met at the harem (which would include only Cherie and Art who have been nice to her), she needs to stay put and send Art off to his men. "Come back for me," she says and then they gaze longingly at each other. I guess the kiss will have to wait.
Art rushes to David, who still may or may not be loyal to the cause, but there is no way into his palace. But, if they can draw the Sultan out...yeah, you get it! There is some tripe about rebellious Armenians and they can use them to get the Sultan's forces from the palace. But what of the women and children (we have yet to see a child in this whole movie) who might be killed? Well, "people die in revolutions" is the rationale David gives. Everyone buys it without thinking, but they still don't know if David will join the cause. Art has to make a side trip back to the palace to save Nancy, because he doesn't want her dying in the siege. This annoys his companions, who haven't had to think about Art in love before.
When he does return, he gets the royal treatment. She bathes his feet, lights candles, the whole shebang. Ava even lets them borrow the soft focus lenses for their big kiss so it looks extra romantic. With cascading violins, Art helps Nancy lose that pesky virginity.
But there is a problem. Ava has apparently noticed her special cameras have been taken and she's standing in the doorway when Nancy and Art awake. "Stupid...stupid girl!" Ava oozes. She's taken to Omar and Ava insists that she be drowned. Yaphet says that hasn't been done for years, but Ava says the Sultan hasn't been betrayed for years. In front of everyone (and notice that Omar is wearing a Western suit, because his Sultan gowns would make Eastern ways too evil), the Sultan has Art whipped. Art lies, saying he's a spy and he raped Nancy, but Ava says, "he's lying. She was clinging to him like a LOVER!" There's a problem with that lie and Omar, for the first time in the movie, is smart enough to figure something out. "If this man is telling the truth, you should want him dead," he tells Nancy, saying that she holds his life in her hands. As he's being strangled, she finally stops it all with a big howl and that crying without tears that only actresses and cloying babies can manage.
Though Yaphet sympathizes with her, he has to oversee Nancy's death. She is placed in a burlap sack filled with rocks to be tossed into the sea. He's careful to not actually tie the top of the sack in the hopes that she can wriggle out of it somehow. Her trip to the bottom of the Bosporus is charming. There are dozens of sacks with bones. But, Nancy gets out of her sack and kicks her way up where she's picked up by a ship of men, one of whom pipes in, "I was sure she was a Mermaid for sure." In a naval pinafore, she's reunited with Julian, though with a hug, not a kiss. She asks to see her father. Ooooh, riiiiiiight, um, yeah, someone has to tell her he's dead. Before that happens, she and Julian have to have the discussion of whether or not they still love each other. She tries her best to worm out of it, but Julian swears he can forgive her anything she's done. Only then does he tell her papa ain't no more.
Sarah chides Nancy for walking around the embassy in a nightgown. "It's not very British, you know." Nancy has gotten used to the loose clothing. She then decides she has to go to rescue Art, owing him a debt, promising that she'll be back to spend the rest of her lifetime with Julian (yikes, she would be better off dying with Art in the attack on the palace). She dashes off to the camp of his friends, but they can't risk sending anyone to the palace, so Nancy begs to go herself, because who knows the palace better than she does? One of the men suggests she knows only the harem, and he's not wrong, because remember, we've only ever seen the harem. The set budget didn't include the rest of the palace. Nancy is given a soldier's uniform, but warned to forget Art, because his only loyalty is to his country and cause. Apparently no one but Nancy and Art ever read a romance novel. As she's about to leave, the camp is surrounded...by David's men. Yes, he's joined the rebels! You doubters who didn't think he would, shame on you! Everyone always goes to the side of good before it's too late when up against an autocracy. DUH!
Nancy sneaks into the palace dressed as a soldier, a mute soldier, the clever little thing! She finds her way to Art's cell, revealing herself to him "as a dream." Only a man stuck in a cell ready to die would have that dream, but these two are goofy in love for each other. Art is chained in a box and paraded through the city as a warning to anyone hiding rebels. No one in the city helps. That's going to be a problem for the Sultan, in the long run. The executioner goes to cut off Art's head, but instead cuts off his shackles. It's Nancy! We should have guessed something like this would happen because every time the executioner has been shown, it's been with a black mask. Now the rebels come out from everywhere, surround the Sultan's loyal men and there is a ton of happiness. "You lead us to the palace, you have earned the right," they tell Nancy, now apparently Joan of Arc.
Omar and Ava are caught seemingly unaware (well, Ava wasn't aware of much by 1986) and the rebels storm the palace. Ava is led away by the guards, looking at Nancy with a look that says, "I'll get you, my pretty one!" Yaphet asks Omar what his plans are...only to find out he actually has plans because he's always waiting for revolution. Art and Nancy find him in his throne room waiting peacefully, except for the machine guns he had installed behind him, operated by a control from his throne. Nancy has forgotten about that until he fires them, but Art saves her life. Omar decides right then and there to become a constitutional monarch, "with no real power" and issues a declaration to have a parliament elected. That's convenient! Now everyone is a hero. How come this never occurred to Charles I of England or Louis XVI of France, yet Omar Sharif figures it out in 15 seconds.
Art takes Nancy back to Julian, who snaps at her, rather unfairly, that he thought anything requiring forgiveness was for whatever happened in the harem, not falling in love with Art, which he can see very clearly. Nancy has to catch the train to England, getting a few more pearls of hokey wisdom from Sarah. And then, shots ring out from across the sand dunes. Art has come to claim his woman, though Julian thinks her foolish. "I won't wait for you again," he sneers. Oh, like she cares? Not when dashing Art comes galloping over to claim her, disproving the theory that everyone has had, that he can't run a rebellion and be in love at the same time.
In the sub-genre of romance miniseries, there are some very passionate and real entries. There is also a whole bunch of trash, and even the trash is varied. There is delicious trash like "Lace" or "Evergreen" and there is out-and-out trash like "Harem." Lacking any sense of sensuality, completely miscast and so predictable a child could figure out every ensuing scene, "Harem" is a piece that simply took advantage of the genre, assuming that something big and foreign would triumph over its tedious unwrapping.
We should feel most sorry for poor Ava Gardner, capping off her career here. Yes, she had an erratic career, mostly because of her own misbehavior, but she certainly didn't do anything bad enough to earn her role here!
Monday, January 24, 2011
Family of Spies (1990)
Not a costume drama, not a story of the rich and famous, not a saga, and not filled with a parade of stars, "Family of Spies" is something of a miniseries step-child. It's a true story about a naval officer who decided to make more money spying and tangled his family in the treacherous web. What makes this one so special is the writing and the acting. Both are so crisp and believable that this plays like a spy novel, with the ending never clear, the heroes and villains equally questionable.
John Walker (Powers Boothe) is the Chief Petty Officer and a code breaker on a submarine in 1967. Within the first few minutes of the movie, it's shown to be quite an exciting job, missing Soviet submarines and doing it with a sense of humor that has the whole crew loving him.
Back on dry land, his wife Barbara (Lesley Ann Warren) knows he's cheating on her, a lot. In fact, one of the dim blondes he's been seeing shows up at the bar she runs to bluntly tell her she expects John to leave his family to marry her. Barbara has a bit of an inferiority complex going, thinking she's not good or bright enough for him. The minute he disembarks she confronts him about it, but that good-natured charm wins her back to smiling, though he has to go out that night, supposedly to raise money to keep their bar afloat.
He's off to a bar, but it's not his own and he hits on every woman. "With your body, you know what would look good on you?" he asks a waitress whose bottom he has slapped and into whose cleavage he has tucked money. "Me," he answers with a laugh. Yeah, he's that guy. Actually, he's at the bar to meet his brother to ask for money. His brother can't help, but he does talk about a friend who made extra money on the side with the mob. When he gets home, he greets his son with, "it's just us against the bitches" and then breaks down the door to his bedroom that Barbara has locked in anger. Yeah, he's that guy.
John's job involves top secret code breaking (we know it's top secret because everything is stamped with "top secret," like that's not a dead giveaway that something valuable is lurking if it falls into enemy hands). One day, he goes to the Soviet Embassy with an idea. He offers them "classified documents" and actually shows up with code breakers to prove he means business. Gutsy move, huh? The Soviets don't exactly say yes without at least checking up on him. He's nervous and doesn't want to be late for his watch duty. They do ask him a legitimate question, if his motives are political or financial. Purely financial and they respect that. Nervous as he was going into it, he's thrilled leaving. It was almost too easy.
In no time, he's moving his family into a glamorous apartment, throwing money at his wife to "fix up this place any way you want." He tells Barbara he has a second job selling cars. For now, it's easier not to ask any questions. He gives his son his own room because, "you're too old to be sleeping with the bitches now." You really want to punch this guy.
John meets his Soviet counterpart, Boris one (Jeremy Krabbe) who tells him how much money he can make and what specific information the Soviets want. He also warns him not to spend money; it's too suspicious (too late). Their first meeting at a museum, where John is given a crypto-device is right out of a spy novel, and square-jawed Powers Boothe fits the part. Watching this story long after the Cold War has ended (it was made in 1990, when Communism was collapsing, but still potent), it's somewhat comical, but in 1967, cloak and dagger operations were extremely serious.
None of his coworkers think his behavior is strange, but his wife does go digging into his drawer, prying open his drawer. She then waits for him to come home with a cigarette and drink. She's also left everything she found on his desk so he would know she had been in there. "You have your life and I have mine," he blithely tells her, but Barbara is pissed, worried about her family's safety. As she's throwing the money at him, he knocks her to the ground. He actually tries to justify it, and explains because he's been so afraid, that's why he hasn't made love to her. Wow, he sure knows how to pile on the crap! But, she's rather desperate, so she buys it and they end up kissing.
By 1970s, he's old hat at the whole spying thing. But, the military brass has noticed that the Soviet submarine system seems to know every move they are making. Captain Burnett (Gordon Clapp) wonders if codes are being broken. John has moved his family to California and swears to Barbara he's out of the spy game, "just a sailor." Barbara believes what she wants to believe, but the war in Vietnam and all the dead bodies on the naval base are making her very fidgety. And then she discovers a loose tile in the garden. She finds all the evidence that her husband is still very much a spy. She actually burns the evidence, including cash.
When John gets home, Barbara is drunk and holding a gun. She has a job as a restaurant cashier and says she doesn't need him anymore. "You made me what I am, you bastard," she tells him, but he's a nasty piece, grabs the gun and starts shooting it all over the room. "No divorce. It's not good for my security clearance," he spits out. When he tells her he wants to have sex with her, he also notes, "I brought you a little present from Hong Kong." Wow, he just gets more bad ass with every passing year!
We then jump ahead to 1975. The navy stages an operation that will tell them once and for all if someone is furnishing them with secrets. There is even some suspicion about John Walker. When the naval operation turns up a positive reaction from the Soviets, the commander scowls, "Ivan [code name for the Soviets] isn't reading our mind. He's reading our mail." His security clearance is up for renewal, but he's more interested in the ladies, particularly a pretty divorcee who hops into bed with him after only a few sentences in a bar, while his wife passes out in front of the TV and has to be cleaned up by her son. However, John wants this woman for more than just her body. She's the one who has been assigned to check into his clearance issues. He fixes that issue and remains hidden, he thinks, both by sleeping with her and by forging documents.
There's a really creepy scene back at home where John has one daughter massaging him and one daughter bringing him cold beer as if that's all women are good for. Barbara watches from the kitchen, smoking and wear sunglasses. It gets even weirder when one of the daughters volunteers to sing the "Star Spangled Banner."
Captain Lennox (John Wesley) figures out something is going on with the security clearance. Something about a pink copy instead of a white copy or vice versa, but John has a leg up on the navy even if they were to find something out: he's retiring, and he hands Lennox his papers with the cockiest of smiles. No longer in the navy, he is finally willing to give Barbara a divorce, and one from her "brats" too. He smashes up the place and bolts. Before leaving, he gives his son his private phone number, not to be used by "the bitches." He's a bit paranoid because he insists that they have code names. "Don't let the bitches get you down," he says and hurries off. The Soviets are not happy with his retirement and summon him to Vienna.
Boris and his superiors are not happy that John has retired and broken access, but John is confident his replacement can handle the job, though the Soviets aren't in for trusting someone new. It was probably not a wise idea to go snapping at Boris.
By 1978, Barbara and John are divorced and Barbara is working at a factory and she's a grandmother. Son Michael (Andrew Lowery) is thinking of helping his father in his new detective business, but Barbara is furious. John's replacement, Jerry Whitworth (Graham Beckel) has lasted only two years before deciding to quit. John rather melodramatically tells him the Soviets will kill him if he tries to get out, pulling out countless news articles about dead spies. John neglected to tell Jerry he was giving information to the Soviets, pretending it was the Israelis all along. John has one hell of a defense prepared. "There have always been spies...maybe it's better if the two countries don't have any secrets," he says, having convinced himself of it long before he spits out that drivel to Jerry.
John's daughter Laura (Lili Taylor) wants to join the army, but needs some money, so she calls Dad, who is busy with a doll in bed at the time. He of course has plenty of money on hand and seems genuinely happy to have a daughter going into the armed services. Though Barbara cannot fight to keep her children away from their father, she does caution Laura not to trust him, "no matter what he says."
Once out of the army, John goes back to hating Laura, who is now married, pregnant and living in a trailer. "But, you're my daughter and I'll help you," he grudgingly says, as long as she stays in the army. He tells her point blank to put the baby up for adoption, even though both she and her husband want the baby. Here's the kicker: "I can help you make some real money as long as you stay in the army." Explaining that his spy career is like the Mafia, and starts to spill the beans on his operation, handing her a wad of cash to prove his point.
Son Michael is cause for Barbara to worry. He is on probation, drinking and even...gasp...having sex! He plans to go live with his father, but Barbara begs him not to go. I really have to give Lesley Ann Warren credit for her performance here. The story really belongs to Powers Boothe, and he's excellent, but totally cast against type, Lesley Ann Warren matches him. An actress with so much natural vitality is given a role of the dowdy drunk harridan and it's not easy to make something of that. Unfortunately, the moment she picks to tell Michael that his father is a spy she's pretty drunk and he laughs it off.
Caught between his sleazy detective father and his drunken mother, Michael naturally picks the former. Dad gets him drunk at nudie bars, so the decision couldn't have taken much teenage thought.
By 1982, Jerry has decided he's had enough. He wants to retire, and John is not happy. They have one more year until Jerry's retirement goes through, but you can see where this is leading. Michael is expected to join the navy, and that plan would be fine except his new girlfriend opens his eyes to the fact that he can be independent from his father (on Independence Day, no less, which leads to a groaning pun in an otherwise gorgeous script). Michael joins the navy and it doesn't come a moment too soon, because the Soviets are not happy with Jerry's work. Film is hazy and they think he's not doing his job, Boris tells him, before giving him a special pen since it's their last meeting. It's obviously some sort of death instrument, but John doesn't heed the warning. He is chased around the city by Soviet goons and then decides to go back to his daughter Laura, volunteering to adopt her child so she can re-enlist. He's in hot water and is not above using his family members. Father of the Year he will never be.
Michael is still enlisted, and asks his girlfriend to marry him as soon as he gets home from a tour. However, he also tells her that he wants a vasectomy because he doesn't want kids. At least someone in the family has good sense. Luckily, Rachel doesn't want any either, so that's settled neatly. "It's too easy to mess up kids," he tells her. Before the wedding, on the beach, no less, John tells his son about his real work, giving that same Mafia speech, but giving him a fuller description than he gave his daughter.
Luckily for John, Michael agrees to the scheme and sets off to be trained as a spy. If only there were manuals for this thing, instead of an overbearing father. Soon, though, Michael is fully into the family business, though his initial attempts are not very smooth. And oops, his wife finds some secret documents in his stuff. Rachel is pretty bright and wants him out of it all. So, he calls Barbara and asks her to visit. Rachel meets Barbara at the airport and tells her she wants to turn in John while she's there.
Since John lives near Michael, Barbara storms into his office and threatens to turn him in (he's also owes her a lot of alimony). Michael is in the middle. She doesn't know Michael is involved yet and John has that over him, so he wants Michael to call her off. Michael is worried that if Barbara finds out he's involved, she'll kill herself. "She won't kill herself, there's too much left to drink," her ex snorts. Plus, John reminds Michael that if he goes down, they both go down.
In 1985, Michael is off on another tour and begs Barbara not to say anything about John, lying to her that he's not involved to spare her that pain. But, as soon as he's on the ship, he's spying, lucky because when he's caught, it's by the stupidest man ever promoted above deck duty. Michael is actually rooting through a bin of top secret trash (it's marked that way), saying he threw something out by accident and he's looking for it. No one questions that fib.
Barbara can take no more and calls the FBI. They come to her and she tells the whole story. She's drinking during the interview, which doesn't help her case. She remembers Jerry's name, barely, but the agent still thinks she's just an angry drunk ex-wife. At the FBI, they put her story in "the crazy file," but someone there is impressed by the details she knows and has it written up. Plus, Laura backs up her story.
The FBI finally begins to take it seriously and they launch a full investigation. Michael starts to worry and calls John, who decides it's time to take care of Barbara. He invites her to Virginia, gun loaded, and the FBI claims they can't offer protection because he'll figure it out. They know he checks his phone and van for tracers, so they really can't easily track him. That gives one confidence: the criminals are smarter than the people who are supposed to protect us. Oh, but you say, this was 1985 and there are no more Soviet spies. True, but we do have other enemies escaping capture.
Anyway, this isn't a political treatise but an anthropological study of a dead genre. John and Barbara get together. She goads him about his girls and he says he's broke. The scene is a great bit of cat-and-mouse writing, with calm collected Powers Boothe retaining the upper hand against nervous jittery Lesley Ann Warren. To try to throw her off the scent, he not only kisses her, but gives her money.
The FBI decides to track him and his supposed counterpart, though the surveillance looks about as threatening as the villains in episode of The Bionic Woman. However, they do get the evidence on a botched drop and he knows it, waiting in a hotel room by himself, gun to his head. And then, naturally, the phone rings. The hotel desk calls to say his van has been in an accident, the FBI's ploy to get him out of the door alive. I bet he wished he had that special Soviet pen right about now. They arrest him, though he is cocky even as they do. Michael is arrested on the ship, with everyone on the ship yelling at the yellow spy.
Barbara finds out about Michael from the television and dissolves into hysterics. The movie ends with father and son in prison.
Because this movie was released in 1990, there are obviously some changes. Barbara was not prosecuted because of her role in exposing the case, though the Soviets claimed their side actually did more to expose him. Michael was sent to prison, but released in 2000. John's brother Arthur and his friend Jerry are still in prison, not eligible for parole until long after they will be dead. As for John, he will be eligible for parole in 2015, but according to various online sources, he's suffering from a host of ailments, including stage IV cancer.
"Family of Spies" is a hard miniseries to categorize. It's obviously not romance, but is it adventure or history? Both, but I think it belongs with adventure. The story is told in total truth, but the way it's told is pure adventure. There are tense scenes and Soviet codes, drunken ex-wives and mind control. If it weren't a true story, it would be fascinating fiction and would easily be classed as adventure.
And once again, I have to give credits to the two remarkable leads. Powers Boothe is even better here than in his Emmy-winning role as Jim Jones. He's much nastier and much more suave here, a man so desperate that he believes his spying is the equal of movie Mafia chiefs. And Lesley Ann Warren, who spent a lot of time in romantic miniseries drivel like "Evergreen" and "Beulah Land" gives one of her finest performances ever, certainly a complete 180 from her all-time greatest, playing dizzy Norma in "Victor/Victoria."
John Walker (Powers Boothe) is the Chief Petty Officer and a code breaker on a submarine in 1967. Within the first few minutes of the movie, it's shown to be quite an exciting job, missing Soviet submarines and doing it with a sense of humor that has the whole crew loving him.
Back on dry land, his wife Barbara (Lesley Ann Warren) knows he's cheating on her, a lot. In fact, one of the dim blondes he's been seeing shows up at the bar she runs to bluntly tell her she expects John to leave his family to marry her. Barbara has a bit of an inferiority complex going, thinking she's not good or bright enough for him. The minute he disembarks she confronts him about it, but that good-natured charm wins her back to smiling, though he has to go out that night, supposedly to raise money to keep their bar afloat.
He's off to a bar, but it's not his own and he hits on every woman. "With your body, you know what would look good on you?" he asks a waitress whose bottom he has slapped and into whose cleavage he has tucked money. "Me," he answers with a laugh. Yeah, he's that guy. Actually, he's at the bar to meet his brother to ask for money. His brother can't help, but he does talk about a friend who made extra money on the side with the mob. When he gets home, he greets his son with, "it's just us against the bitches" and then breaks down the door to his bedroom that Barbara has locked in anger. Yeah, he's that guy.
John's job involves top secret code breaking (we know it's top secret because everything is stamped with "top secret," like that's not a dead giveaway that something valuable is lurking if it falls into enemy hands). One day, he goes to the Soviet Embassy with an idea. He offers them "classified documents" and actually shows up with code breakers to prove he means business. Gutsy move, huh? The Soviets don't exactly say yes without at least checking up on him. He's nervous and doesn't want to be late for his watch duty. They do ask him a legitimate question, if his motives are political or financial. Purely financial and they respect that. Nervous as he was going into it, he's thrilled leaving. It was almost too easy.
In no time, he's moving his family into a glamorous apartment, throwing money at his wife to "fix up this place any way you want." He tells Barbara he has a second job selling cars. For now, it's easier not to ask any questions. He gives his son his own room because, "you're too old to be sleeping with the bitches now." You really want to punch this guy.
John meets his Soviet counterpart, Boris one (Jeremy Krabbe) who tells him how much money he can make and what specific information the Soviets want. He also warns him not to spend money; it's too suspicious (too late). Their first meeting at a museum, where John is given a crypto-device is right out of a spy novel, and square-jawed Powers Boothe fits the part. Watching this story long after the Cold War has ended (it was made in 1990, when Communism was collapsing, but still potent), it's somewhat comical, but in 1967, cloak and dagger operations were extremely serious.
None of his coworkers think his behavior is strange, but his wife does go digging into his drawer, prying open his drawer. She then waits for him to come home with a cigarette and drink. She's also left everything she found on his desk so he would know she had been in there. "You have your life and I have mine," he blithely tells her, but Barbara is pissed, worried about her family's safety. As she's throwing the money at him, he knocks her to the ground. He actually tries to justify it, and explains because he's been so afraid, that's why he hasn't made love to her. Wow, he sure knows how to pile on the crap! But, she's rather desperate, so she buys it and they end up kissing.
By 1970s, he's old hat at the whole spying thing. But, the military brass has noticed that the Soviet submarine system seems to know every move they are making. Captain Burnett (Gordon Clapp) wonders if codes are being broken. John has moved his family to California and swears to Barbara he's out of the spy game, "just a sailor." Barbara believes what she wants to believe, but the war in Vietnam and all the dead bodies on the naval base are making her very fidgety. And then she discovers a loose tile in the garden. She finds all the evidence that her husband is still very much a spy. She actually burns the evidence, including cash.
When John gets home, Barbara is drunk and holding a gun. She has a job as a restaurant cashier and says she doesn't need him anymore. "You made me what I am, you bastard," she tells him, but he's a nasty piece, grabs the gun and starts shooting it all over the room. "No divorce. It's not good for my security clearance," he spits out. When he tells her he wants to have sex with her, he also notes, "I brought you a little present from Hong Kong." Wow, he just gets more bad ass with every passing year!
We then jump ahead to 1975. The navy stages an operation that will tell them once and for all if someone is furnishing them with secrets. There is even some suspicion about John Walker. When the naval operation turns up a positive reaction from the Soviets, the commander scowls, "Ivan [code name for the Soviets] isn't reading our mind. He's reading our mail." His security clearance is up for renewal, but he's more interested in the ladies, particularly a pretty divorcee who hops into bed with him after only a few sentences in a bar, while his wife passes out in front of the TV and has to be cleaned up by her son. However, John wants this woman for more than just her body. She's the one who has been assigned to check into his clearance issues. He fixes that issue and remains hidden, he thinks, both by sleeping with her and by forging documents.
There's a really creepy scene back at home where John has one daughter massaging him and one daughter bringing him cold beer as if that's all women are good for. Barbara watches from the kitchen, smoking and wear sunglasses. It gets even weirder when one of the daughters volunteers to sing the "Star Spangled Banner."
Captain Lennox (John Wesley) figures out something is going on with the security clearance. Something about a pink copy instead of a white copy or vice versa, but John has a leg up on the navy even if they were to find something out: he's retiring, and he hands Lennox his papers with the cockiest of smiles. No longer in the navy, he is finally willing to give Barbara a divorce, and one from her "brats" too. He smashes up the place and bolts. Before leaving, he gives his son his private phone number, not to be used by "the bitches." He's a bit paranoid because he insists that they have code names. "Don't let the bitches get you down," he says and hurries off. The Soviets are not happy with his retirement and summon him to Vienna.
Boris and his superiors are not happy that John has retired and broken access, but John is confident his replacement can handle the job, though the Soviets aren't in for trusting someone new. It was probably not a wise idea to go snapping at Boris.
By 1978, Barbara and John are divorced and Barbara is working at a factory and she's a grandmother. Son Michael (Andrew Lowery) is thinking of helping his father in his new detective business, but Barbara is furious. John's replacement, Jerry Whitworth (Graham Beckel) has lasted only two years before deciding to quit. John rather melodramatically tells him the Soviets will kill him if he tries to get out, pulling out countless news articles about dead spies. John neglected to tell Jerry he was giving information to the Soviets, pretending it was the Israelis all along. John has one hell of a defense prepared. "There have always been spies...maybe it's better if the two countries don't have any secrets," he says, having convinced himself of it long before he spits out that drivel to Jerry.
John's daughter Laura (Lili Taylor) wants to join the army, but needs some money, so she calls Dad, who is busy with a doll in bed at the time. He of course has plenty of money on hand and seems genuinely happy to have a daughter going into the armed services. Though Barbara cannot fight to keep her children away from their father, she does caution Laura not to trust him, "no matter what he says."
Once out of the army, John goes back to hating Laura, who is now married, pregnant and living in a trailer. "But, you're my daughter and I'll help you," he grudgingly says, as long as she stays in the army. He tells her point blank to put the baby up for adoption, even though both she and her husband want the baby. Here's the kicker: "I can help you make some real money as long as you stay in the army." Explaining that his spy career is like the Mafia, and starts to spill the beans on his operation, handing her a wad of cash to prove his point.
Son Michael is cause for Barbara to worry. He is on probation, drinking and even...gasp...having sex! He plans to go live with his father, but Barbara begs him not to go. I really have to give Lesley Ann Warren credit for her performance here. The story really belongs to Powers Boothe, and he's excellent, but totally cast against type, Lesley Ann Warren matches him. An actress with so much natural vitality is given a role of the dowdy drunk harridan and it's not easy to make something of that. Unfortunately, the moment she picks to tell Michael that his father is a spy she's pretty drunk and he laughs it off.
Caught between his sleazy detective father and his drunken mother, Michael naturally picks the former. Dad gets him drunk at nudie bars, so the decision couldn't have taken much teenage thought.
By 1982, Jerry has decided he's had enough. He wants to retire, and John is not happy. They have one more year until Jerry's retirement goes through, but you can see where this is leading. Michael is expected to join the navy, and that plan would be fine except his new girlfriend opens his eyes to the fact that he can be independent from his father (on Independence Day, no less, which leads to a groaning pun in an otherwise gorgeous script). Michael joins the navy and it doesn't come a moment too soon, because the Soviets are not happy with Jerry's work. Film is hazy and they think he's not doing his job, Boris tells him, before giving him a special pen since it's their last meeting. It's obviously some sort of death instrument, but John doesn't heed the warning. He is chased around the city by Soviet goons and then decides to go back to his daughter Laura, volunteering to adopt her child so she can re-enlist. He's in hot water and is not above using his family members. Father of the Year he will never be.
Michael is still enlisted, and asks his girlfriend to marry him as soon as he gets home from a tour. However, he also tells her that he wants a vasectomy because he doesn't want kids. At least someone in the family has good sense. Luckily, Rachel doesn't want any either, so that's settled neatly. "It's too easy to mess up kids," he tells her. Before the wedding, on the beach, no less, John tells his son about his real work, giving that same Mafia speech, but giving him a fuller description than he gave his daughter.
Luckily for John, Michael agrees to the scheme and sets off to be trained as a spy. If only there were manuals for this thing, instead of an overbearing father. Soon, though, Michael is fully into the family business, though his initial attempts are not very smooth. And oops, his wife finds some secret documents in his stuff. Rachel is pretty bright and wants him out of it all. So, he calls Barbara and asks her to visit. Rachel meets Barbara at the airport and tells her she wants to turn in John while she's there.
Since John lives near Michael, Barbara storms into his office and threatens to turn him in (he's also owes her a lot of alimony). Michael is in the middle. She doesn't know Michael is involved yet and John has that over him, so he wants Michael to call her off. Michael is worried that if Barbara finds out he's involved, she'll kill herself. "She won't kill herself, there's too much left to drink," her ex snorts. Plus, John reminds Michael that if he goes down, they both go down.
In 1985, Michael is off on another tour and begs Barbara not to say anything about John, lying to her that he's not involved to spare her that pain. But, as soon as he's on the ship, he's spying, lucky because when he's caught, it's by the stupidest man ever promoted above deck duty. Michael is actually rooting through a bin of top secret trash (it's marked that way), saying he threw something out by accident and he's looking for it. No one questions that fib.
Barbara can take no more and calls the FBI. They come to her and she tells the whole story. She's drinking during the interview, which doesn't help her case. She remembers Jerry's name, barely, but the agent still thinks she's just an angry drunk ex-wife. At the FBI, they put her story in "the crazy file," but someone there is impressed by the details she knows and has it written up. Plus, Laura backs up her story.
The FBI finally begins to take it seriously and they launch a full investigation. Michael starts to worry and calls John, who decides it's time to take care of Barbara. He invites her to Virginia, gun loaded, and the FBI claims they can't offer protection because he'll figure it out. They know he checks his phone and van for tracers, so they really can't easily track him. That gives one confidence: the criminals are smarter than the people who are supposed to protect us. Oh, but you say, this was 1985 and there are no more Soviet spies. True, but we do have other enemies escaping capture.
Anyway, this isn't a political treatise but an anthropological study of a dead genre. John and Barbara get together. She goads him about his girls and he says he's broke. The scene is a great bit of cat-and-mouse writing, with calm collected Powers Boothe retaining the upper hand against nervous jittery Lesley Ann Warren. To try to throw her off the scent, he not only kisses her, but gives her money.
The FBI decides to track him and his supposed counterpart, though the surveillance looks about as threatening as the villains in episode of The Bionic Woman. However, they do get the evidence on a botched drop and he knows it, waiting in a hotel room by himself, gun to his head. And then, naturally, the phone rings. The hotel desk calls to say his van has been in an accident, the FBI's ploy to get him out of the door alive. I bet he wished he had that special Soviet pen right about now. They arrest him, though he is cocky even as they do. Michael is arrested on the ship, with everyone on the ship yelling at the yellow spy.
Barbara finds out about Michael from the television and dissolves into hysterics. The movie ends with father and son in prison.
Because this movie was released in 1990, there are obviously some changes. Barbara was not prosecuted because of her role in exposing the case, though the Soviets claimed their side actually did more to expose him. Michael was sent to prison, but released in 2000. John's brother Arthur and his friend Jerry are still in prison, not eligible for parole until long after they will be dead. As for John, he will be eligible for parole in 2015, but according to various online sources, he's suffering from a host of ailments, including stage IV cancer.
"Family of Spies" is a hard miniseries to categorize. It's obviously not romance, but is it adventure or history? Both, but I think it belongs with adventure. The story is told in total truth, but the way it's told is pure adventure. There are tense scenes and Soviet codes, drunken ex-wives and mind control. If it weren't a true story, it would be fascinating fiction and would easily be classed as adventure.
And once again, I have to give credits to the two remarkable leads. Powers Boothe is even better here than in his Emmy-winning role as Jim Jones. He's much nastier and much more suave here, a man so desperate that he believes his spying is the equal of movie Mafia chiefs. And Lesley Ann Warren, who spent a lot of time in romantic miniseries drivel like "Evergreen" and "Beulah Land" gives one of her finest performances ever, certainly a complete 180 from her all-time greatest, playing dizzy Norma in "Victor/Victoria."
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