Okay, folks. I'm doing our first foray into the world of Judith Krantz. Let's all hold hands and jump together. We'll need each other's strength.
Judith herself introduces the novel, proving how big a literary sensation she was (and getting a chance within five seconds to list her other books). "The place is Paris. The time is 1925..." and then she tells us about the book. This worries me because if we need Judith to explain her own glossy romance novel, is the miniseries so convoluted that we can't understand on our own? We're not adapting Homer here. It's Judith Krantz, for crying out loud.
Even the credits are stupidly pretentious, with actors' names listed "dans le role de..." as "April in Paris" is sung in French. Judith has already told us this book not only takes place in France, but was mostly filmed there. So, with French credits and an American song in French we're suddenly making this a higher art form? I say it again...it's Judith Krantz, for crying out loud.
With one suitcase and a really awful wig, Stefanie Powers arrives in Paris in 1925, looking to be an artist's model. The other "artist's models" laugh at this hick from the provinces, but Stacy Keach (as Picas...oops, Mistral), thinks she's is beautiful and offers her a job on the spot. He's particularly interested in her hair, so the wig has an actual purpose. Now Stefanie is clearly French, because her accent is a genuine French-for-so-so-actresses, but Stacy doesn't bother with an accent, so I'm not sure where he's from. When he orders her to take off her kimono and finds her still in her underwear, he's not pleased. "Modesty and modeling do not go together...would you feel comfortable if I took off my clothes as well...something has to go, your knickers or you!" he tears into her before tossing her out, in her knickers.
Stacy can't afford paints, trying to barter his painting for them at the art shop, and the shop owner falls for it. Hey, it's France in the 1920s, every painter was a potential Picas...oops Mistral. Luckily, as Stacy is leaving, Lee Remick walks into the shop to buy some clay, and loves the painting, buying it on the spot.
Stefanie has no money for food, only enough to buy a carnation. Stephane Audran takes pity on her and gives her food. Stefanie tells her story (Jewish orphan, dead father, dead mother, dead grandmother, and of course "ignorant of men," Stephane adds). Stephane is a former queen of the models and takes Stefanie under her wing, especially since it means knocking down the current queen of the models and Stacy down a peg. Stephane owns a restaurant (courtesy of a rich man) and even gives Stefanie a place to live. She's an interesting mentor, but her humor and kindness disarm Stefanie into embracing nudity.
Just who is Lee Remick? She's a rich American who has come to Paris for the excitement that a whole generation of artistic ex-pats desired. But, her uncle is concerned about her squandering her fortune. That scene took all of three minutes, and in that time, Stefanie has become the toast of the art world, the model everyone wants, the girl every cab driver and flower seller in Paris knows. She's also become something of a know-it-all flirt, though always dashing home on Friday evenings to observe the Sabbath, proving she's still a good girl..
As Lee's uncle is pressuring his niece to go back to Boston, Stacy storms in, looking like a homeless Musketeer in a cape and bad wig of his own, upset that Lee bought his painting. But, when reveals she has connections, he of course softens. She takes his paintings to art dealer Ian Richardson, who admires the paintings, but won't handle Stacy because though "he has developed a style, he has not yet developed a passion."
There is a gigantic artists ball and all of our characters are there in costume doing the Charleston and having a decadent time. Stefanie, barely dressed as Eve, is proclaimed the new queen of models. But, in the tumult, a fight starts and Stacy rushes to aid Stefanie, must to the chagrin of of Lee, with whom he came to the ball. Stefanie and Stacy end up romping in a fountain in slow motion, which, in a romance miniseries, means two people have just fallen in love. The big kiss as they are being drenched is also a clue. As they are enjoying a glass of wine, Stacy remembers Lee, "a rich American lady who likes my paintings," but only for a flash because he's soon kissing Stefanie's feet, which sends peals of rapture up and down Stefanie's body. Then comes the climactic clinch before Stacy carries Stefanie up the stairs and makes a non-virgin out of her. Or so we assume, since we stop at frottage before Stacy is painting (nude) Stefanie (nude) and then more supposed lovemaking in slow motion (and with Stacy covered in paint).
Stefanie and Stephane meet at the market, where Stephane chides Stefanie for working for free and Lee formulates a plan to get back his attention by dragging Ian to his studio. Ian is overwhelmed by the pictures Stacy has done of Stefanie, of which there seem to be about 481, and decides to to give him a show. Lee certainly manages to get back Stacy's attention, leaving Stefanie suddenly the odd woman out.
At the exhibition opening, Stacy nervously gulps down champagne as Lee attaches herself to him. Stephane has to comfort "my little pigeon" Stefanie, aghast that everyone is looking at her nude in the paintings, but Stephane has bigger a bigger fish to hook: banker Timothy Dalton, who, naturally, only has eyes only for Stefanie. When he wants to buy a painting, which Stefanie believes to her based on pillow talk with Stacy, Lee informs her that she actually owns all the nudes (in other words, Stacy has sold out for money and Lee has won this round). So, Stefanie does the only thing she can: she ambles around the streets of Paris at night crying. A bewitched Timothy luckily follows her and helps her get a taxi (they don't seem to want to stop for her).
At Stephane's urging, Stefanie accepts a date with Timothy, a wealthy American with a British accent, but Stefanie is uncomfortable at both the expensive restaurant to which he takes her and the attempt he makes to hold her hand. Heavy-drinking Stacy tries to paint another model, but he just cannot make it work. He needs his muse back. As for Lee, her plan has backfired as Stacy is unable to paint, in Ian's word, "a one-day wonder" if he doesn't start producing soon.
On a second date, Stefanie not only compares the Jews to the Irish (Timothy is baffled by that one) and Stefanie finds out Timothy is actually married, though he and his wife are separated. More intrigued this time, they go off to a jazz club and Stefanie does a mad Charleston as Timothy watches, all but drooling. When "My Man" blares through a trumpet, Timothy takes advantage of the slower song to dance with Stefanie and sweetly starts kissing her (no slow motion here, so it must not be the real thing). A now-experienced Stefanie takes Timothy home to her apartment, which is so filled with flowers he's sent her that there is barely enough room for a bed. He lightly brushes a daisy up and down her body in the least erotic sex scene since...well...since she got it on with Stacy covered in paint. It must be love, because she leaves him sleeping while she goes out to buy large loaves of French bread and croissants, dressed only in a coat.
Timothy wants to get them an apartment, but Stefanie wants her own apartment, so Timothy agrees to get her one. "Does that mean I will be a kept woman?" she chirps. Timothy beams that he wants to buy her everything because he loves her. What would the rabbi say, she wonders, as they fall back into bed.
Lee goes over to Stacy's, hoping there will be more paintings, but finds only one blank canvas after another. Her way of trying to seduce him is just plain boring--a car ride to the country. They end up at a charming country hotel, where Stacy calls Lee on her blatant "manipulation" of people. Vulgar Stacy simply tells Lee to come up to his room and frigid Lee succumbs with a fire blazing a few feet away from the bed. Sorry, I have to go back on what I said earlier. This is the least erotic lovemaking scene so far, but luckily we aren't included in anything further than fully-clothed kissing.
"If I'm to be the mistress of a wealthy American, I must look like one," Stefanie tells Stephan as Monsieur Andre is ordered to cut off her famous locks (in other words, she can finally lose the horrendous wig in favor of a better bobbed wig). Timothy loves the full flapper look on her. Timothy buys Stefanie a massive apartment, which frightens her. So, sappy Timothy tells her they can try it, but if she doesn't like it, they will simply find another place. If he seems too good to be true, it probably means he is.
Back in the country, Stacy has a rambling speech about why he paints, what inspires him and a whole bunch of other expected cliches from a blocked artist. Stacy goes into a bar and paints a man in an instant to prove he's an artist. Everyone in the tavern wants one, and Lee stands outside smiling that Stacy is finally working again, even if just sketching for free. He's excited once again to work, but will not go back to Paris and it's rigid artistic rules.
Timothy sure knows how to spoil a girl. He outfits the apartment in high grandeur, as if she were a mobster's moll. She has only one request, that they spend the night together alone. Like he's going to say no?
On the other side of the "I have so much money, I don't know what to do with it all, so I'll spoil someone I love and keep them and have the power" plot, Lee buys Stacy a huge country home. He can paint there and she'll handle all the other details. Her deal has a string attached: she wants to marry Stacy.
Timothy's lawyer arrives in Paris to tell him his wife back in the states has heard the rumors about his mistress. "There's nothing wrong with a man having a little fling, but when it endangers your marriage, your reputation," it's a problem, according to his lawyer, but Timothy is just too damn in love to care. People this happy have everything to lose. Cue her pregnancy news. He's overjoyed because he and his wife were not able to have kids.
It's a girl for Timothy and Stefanie! Stefanie is only upset because Timothy would not allow the child to be named with his last name, meaning she's illegitimate, which bothers Stefanie. As she grows up, they are all in the park one day when some bitchy American dames chuckle about Timothy's bastard daughter. Stefanie is distraught, so Timothy says he'll find a way to divorce his wife and marry her, despite being a Catholic. So, he goes back to New York to see what his wife Alexandra Stewart will say. It's not going to go well since her uncle, Cardinal Michael Gough is present. Before he leaves, he states bluntly that he will never allow the two to be split up. Alexandra is a tough cookie. She refuses divorce because she will not damn his soul, holy roller that she is. Her composure quickly drops when she yells that she hopes they all "rot in hell. IN HELL!" He calls Stefanie with the news and tells her to come to New York (oh, and he mentions the stock market is jittery and since it's roughly the late 20s now, we know what that means!). Stephane sends off the kid with a reminder that Paris is her home and she belongs there.
In the country, Stacy has become quite accustomed to the life of leisure, spitting out his wine when it's not the right temperature. As for Lee, now his wife, she summons Ian to tell him he's making too much money from them and they lower his commission. Their years of bliss burst when the stock market crashes and Lee's money is gone.
When Stefanie arrives in New York, there is extremely bad news. Fully able somehow to speak English to a porter and then Timothy's secretary on the phone, she finds out Timothy has been killed in an accident. Since he expected to live forever, he made no arrangements for Stefanie and the kid. "What is my position?" she asks the lawyer, who has to inform her she has none, no money, no apartment, nothing. The British nanny offers the paltry sum she's saved, but that will last approximately 62 seconds. What, oh what will a talent-free uneducated Jewish mistress with a daughter and no rights do for survival? Not to worry. We have approximately five more hours to figure it out.
Stefanie tries to sell her jewels, but they are worthless. "But I bought them at Chanel." "Where's he now?" the jewelry salesman ask her? When Stefanie says the word "bubkus," the guy realizes she's Jewish and he's willing to help. He offers to help get her a job as a model with a friend who sells clothing Victor Spinetti. The woman at the store sneers at Stefanie that, "it's really a waste of time. Our customers want someone to show them the clothes, no compete with them." Thte dame purposely gives her a horrid dress, but crafty Stefanie takes her shears to it and emerges as the height of beauty. Bianchi is enchanted and Stefanie jumps at the $40 a week salary. She then does what she always does when she has a coin. She buys a red flower.
Lee wants to see a bunch of Stacy's paintings, but he refuses to sell the ones he has. In the dead of night, she invites Ian over, who senses the plan and offers to buy them, but Stacy has gotten the jump on them and made a bonfire of his paintings. Lee loses it. She roars that she has bought the house and basically him, but he yells back that he has an obligation "only to my work" and he will not be compromised. Their screaming match is truly a hoot, because Lee goes full tilt, summoning up her vast resources and Stacy is all phony bluster.
At a charity benefit where Stefanie is modeling, Joanna Lumley has brought not only Alexandra, who gets awfully upset hearing that French name, but also dashing Robert Urich. This being a romance, it's automatic that the most beautiful girl in the room and the most handsome man in the room will eventually mate. Stefanie recognizes Alexandra, who is a few feet away insisting Victor fire her. "She's not what she seems," Alexandrea sniffs. At Joanna's party later that night, there is a scavenger hunt for the rich and frivolous. Robert partners with Stefanie and takes her off to a nightclub, having already arranged for all the items they need so he can spend time alone with her. He's a playboy publisher and though she pretends aloofness, it's obviously she kind of likes him.
Speaking of New York (oh, weren't we?), Lee decides to take her personal collection of Stacy's paintings there because New York has never seen them and "everybody wants a Mistral." Lee tries her best, but it's not her fault she's caught between moping Stacy and creepy Ian in the more boring of the two plots. It just so happens that Robert wants to take Stefanie to see the exhibition, and boy is he in for a surprise when he finds out he's going to see all the nudes Stacy painted of Stefanie. The American ladies make jokes about her, of course just as Alexandra walks in. Oops, that's an uncomfortable moment, so Alexandra high tails it out of the gallery. She takes her revenge by telling Victor that he must fire Stefanie or else "no respectable woman will be able to visit your establishment." When he fires Stefanie and asks what she will do, she says, "I will fight. That is what I know how to do!" She's the heroine in an epic love story. They always find a way, the scrappy little darlings.
Robert will not be ignored. He shows up at Stefanie's with a giant bouquet of flowers. "Are you Santa Claus," the plucky red-haired imp asks him. He's not at all offended by her pictures and he instantly adores her daughter. He's even more too-good-to-be-true than Timothy was, and even more handsome, so what secret is he hiding? Oh come on, you're asking the same question! He tells her of a friend who is basically a modeling agent and an idea forms in Stefanie's over-wigged head. She calls the jeweler, who has sold her one good piece for $6000. What will she do with it, as if we haven't figured it out? Open a modeling agency!
President Roosevelt himself, though one of his staffers, wants Robert to go to England and interview Churchill because war clouds are gathering and it's never too early to start propaganda. At the same time, Stacy sees French soldiers and declares there will be no war. "Wars are for children who like to go 'boom!' he says, before noticing a wall with a bunch of faded advertisements. In a flash, he invents artistic montage. His inner muse has been inspired once again! Lee is suddenly not interested in his art, wanting a baby. "It's our great good fortune NOT to have a family," says the selfish artist. She only wants sex. He only wants canvas. Things are not looking good for them.
When Robert returns from England, he fills Stefanie in on what's going on war-wise. "But darling, what about my friends, my family?" she earnestly wonders, before adding flippantly, "maybe it won't happen." Ah, now this is what I like! Selfish characters with no sense of the world around them, especially since her agency has become an overnight sensation (literally). However, even though this is glossy romance, we know how the miniseries loves World War II, methinks it ain't gonna be good for some of our characters. Remember, though everyone else has forgotten, our dear Stefanie is Jewish.
Things are pretty safe in New York. Lee shows up and is told by her uncle not to go back to France because Hitler will be invading. Her plan is to summon Stacy to America where he would have to rely on her rather than shutting her out like he does in the French countryside. He's not interested, tossing aside her letter and going back to his painting. Stefanie and Joanna see a newsreel at the movies about France falling. Now Stefanie is worried. She thinks of her friends, listing them all by name, but funny, we've never seen any of them except for Stephane. How convenient that she's developed a conscience.
More out of touch with the world is Stacy, who has no clue of what's going on. Ian tries to clue him in, but "I have nothing to with politics and neither do you," Stacy snaps, completely oblivious. Ian, who is also apparently Jewish, cannot leave France because of his frail mother, so life is going to suck for him sometime soon. His mother begs him to leave her, but he won't. The Nazi's pain their horrid yellow star on his gallery. By the time his mother croaks, he's already wearing the same star on his clothing. Hell has come to one of our leads. Stephane tries to help him, but the Germans are spying on her and they have an awfully mean dog that shows they are serious (these are the details that pop up out of nowhere for no reason--like we need a dog to tell us the Nazis are bad?).
Nanny turns in her notice because she must go back to England and care for her family. Stefanie understands, but Stephanie Dunnam, Stefanie's grown-up daughter, does not. She's been raised rather spoiled. She even lies to her friends that her mother had spent time in Hollywood, romanced movie stars and movies are actually about her! The kid is freakin' nuts! And what of Robert Urich? The next time we see him, he's suddenly in uniform.
Stephane is arrested and the evil Nazi with the dog is at her apartment comes to search. Ian shows up moments after the Nazis have ransacked the place, but they missed the papers she wrapped around a flower for Ian to find. The Germans next show up at Stacy's farm, where he's incensed that they interrupt his work. However, they know he's been hiding Ian's stash of paintings. He warned Ian that if anyone found them, he wouldn't be held responsible. The only lucky detail is that the Nazi in charge of confiscation is a fan of Stacy's. He asks to see Stacy's work, but Stacy is not impressed until the Major Wolf Kahler offers up a bottle of brandy. Now that excites the most selfish character in pulp romance history. Oh, wait, he takes it to another level when he tells the Major that if he shows him the paintings, he'd like to get some paint in return. I know, I know, somewhere down the line this dunderhead will turn selfless, but he's incredibly irritating at this point. He actually goes one step further and tells his housekeeper no one can interrupt him, to lock the gates and keep everyone out. He is incensed that she can't get him paint on the black market and boils rabbit bones and linen for canvas. You really have to hate a man like this. When Ian escapes to the countryside and shows up at Stacy's, he is refused entry, even when he bellows at the top of his lungs to be let in. The Nazis are beginning to look kind after Stacy. Even when he is summoned to a work camp, he refuses to go, after actually chastizing the Major for having his staff taken.
Stacy keeps topping himself and frankly, if I weren't a person who refuses to stop in the middle of anything I started, I would be junking the remaining three hours of "Mistral's Daughter." Get this one: the housekeeper comes flailing at Stacy telling him their chickens and other food have been taken and what is his reponse? "Have they gotten into the studio?" COME ON!!!!
He doesn't even care that he's led them straight to the resistance, who are ambushed and killed, except for Ian, who has left only moments earlier. Lucky for Stacy, the Nazis recover his sheets, also informing him that his pal who worked his farm was among the dead. Could this be his moment of catharsis?
Robert is being sent off to Europe, but he wants to marry Stefanie before he goes. For some reason, she can't. She doesn't explain why and I can't say I know the reason myself. We know she's selfish too, but there must be more to it than that.
Lee arrives back in France with food and goods that have long been impossible to get, but Stacy wants to know only if she brought him canvas and paints. The housekeeper and Lee catch up on who has been killed, but Stacy snarls, "when you two women are finished gossiping, come to the studio." Lee is dazzled by his new works, but he wants a new agent, knowing full well when he refused to let Ian into his house, that made him rather unavailable.
So, what's the reason Stefanie turned down Robert? Joanna Lumley wants to know, wondering if she's still in love with Stacy, so Stefanie changes the subject to her daughter and Joanna doesn't dig further. She's not selfish like the other characters, just not bright.
Lee is pregnant, after a series of miscarriages.
Stefanie's Stephanie is kicked out of college yet again, for drinking with boys, the hussy! She tells Mom she wants to be a model and turns on the tears to get her mother to agree. On the heels of that happiness, Robert arrives unexpectedly. He and Stefanie embrace while the daughter looks on with that smile of "I think I want him for my own." Stephanie shows up for a modeling gig to find the photographer is a former boyfriend and he takes her virginity.
In France, the years have advanced and Stacy and Lee's daugther has become as nasty a character as her father, a tiny little bitch of an Omen child (Lee should be used to that).
Things start to come full circle when a magazine wants to hire Stefanie's Stephanie for a modeling gig where she would wear clothes in the studios of three great artists: Picasso, Matisse and...of course...Mistral (Stacy). She's known about her mother's past with him and still wants to go. First, though, she has to dispose of her current man, whom she loves, but is not in love with. This is a conversation that only happens in this kind of story, and thank goodness.
Stacy Keach wears a Speedo. Yuck.
Stephanie, apparently America's top model, takes the assignment with the great artists, but Stacy has decided he doesn't want to be involved, until he sees Stephanie in all her splendor. The photo shoot starts uncomfortably, but then Stacy decides Stephanie is more beautiful than her mother, so he undoes her hair and wipes off her make-up. He wants to talk to her alone. "What are we going to tak about?" "The rest of our lives," he says.
These two have already fallen in love. "You make me feel alive. You make me feel human," Stacy says, no small trick, as we know. The sex is apparently the stuff of mythology because they do more of the "I didn't know it was possible" crap. She decides to stay in Paris and becomes pregnant. Anyway, she doesn't want the baby because Stacy is married. How does he respond? Go back to an earlier episode and find out how Timothy responded because literally, word for word, they lift that speech and use it again here, I swear! And Lee's reaction is pretty much a carbon copy of Alexandra's, complete with the insane idea that the errant hubby will come back to her. Stephanie has the baby and they name it Fauve, much to the distress of Lee, who refuses to let her own daughter believe she has a sister, or a "bastard" as she teaches her to call it. Lee gets a whopper of a scene when Stacy comes to beg for a divorce. "I made you!" she roars imperiously and she intends to keep her creation.
Tragedy strikes when Stephanie falls overboard during a lovely sailing trip and impales herself on the anchor, just after having promised Stacy more babies. She is buried in a Catholic ceremony, which is odd since her mother is Jewish. The funeral gives Stefanie and Stacy a chance to square off. Stefanie will take her granddaughter and he will never see the kid again. Considering he shows up a the funeral service looking like Colonel Sanders, it's probably for the best.
Four years later (quatre ans plus tard as the onging pretentious title cards tell us), Stacy shows up at his farm, and Lee is completely forgiving and not at all surprised. "I've created the only place where he can paint," she says, though her daughter is still a pissy little thing and doesn't want him back.
Stacy, after going through a montage of painting nature scenes, decides to go to New York and see his daughter, against everyone's wishes. Not everyone, because his little daughter is thrilled. "You haven't changed. Well, perhaps a little older," he says to Stefanie, who looks exactly the same as she has for the entire movie. "You were never galant," Stefanie snaps, declining to mention that Stacy has aged a whole damn lot. This scene has all the dramatic heft of a down pillow, which is odd since they have to much to discuss, but somehow Stacy wins and brings his daughter home to his farm, at least for three months a year.
The child actress playing Fauve is particulary annoying, and neither Lee nor her daughter are charmed, but Stacy explains life to her, telling her that arrogance is a virtue. The only benefit to this kid is that she speaks in fast forward, so she gets her dialogue out quickly. While Stacy plays a game with his mates from the bar, the daugther gets into a scrap with the village children, another nasty terror kid like her mother was. Stacy finds out she can draw has an amazingly precocious ability distinguish colors and shapes. If this movie thinks shared love of painting can redeem this character this late, no dice!
Another eight years slip by and now Fauve is played by Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu, still visiting for three months. Also older is his other daughter, still obnoxious, played by Tiffany Spencer. He detests her because she's never appreciated his paintings. It doesn't help that she and her husband want money, and the husband is an obnoxious snob who refuses to work. Lee promises that once Stacy dies ("he can't live forever"), Tiffany will get everything because the other daugther is not legitimate.
At a local dance, Philippine meeets suave Pierre Malet, who is smitten with another generation's redhead. She likes him too. But, there's a catch, natch. He's Ian's son. Remember Ian? It's okay if you don't, because he was pretty forgetful and we haven't seen him since he escaped the Nazis, a good 20 years earlier. Pierre has every reason to hate Stacy, who is focused only on forcing his daughter to paint. She doesn't want to paint, which is just the wedge Lee was hoping for, giving the vaguest hint of a smile when she hears the news.
Philippine and Pierre go on a field trip to an abandoned synagogue. They both seem very moved. Philippine tries to interest her family in her Jewish heritage, which bores the rest of the family, and annoys Stacy, likely for two reasons. The first is that she's not painting and the second must be his guilt from the war. Pierre takes his new girlfriend to meet his parents. Awkward! He tells how Stefanie and Stacy were so in love, which Philippine did not know. There's more, of course, but lunch lasts only so long.
As for Lee, she has breast cancer, terminal unfortunately.
Another repeated conversation: Philippine goes through the "I'm not sure I'm in love" speech her mother once delivered and Pierre promises to wait for her as they suck face.
"So, the devil has a daughter," Stefanie whines to Robert Urich, who has literally not aged more than a few gray hair. Then again, Stefanie hasn't aged much. She's upset that Philippine wants to stay in France, and Robert's answer to her worries is to propose marriage again. She turns him down for the umpteenth time and he leaves, supposedly for good. He deserved better, as an actor and as a character.
Stacy has hit on a way he can give Philippine a third of his estate, allowed under French law, but he doesn't want to wait until he dies, giving her paintings instead money. Lee assumes he'll give the kid all the best pictures, worth the most when he dies. She picks yet another moment to remind him that she created him. "Genius belongs to no one...it simply is," he tries to tell her, but she is beyond reason on the subject and she vows never to let him give away his art, which she insists belongs to her. There's a fight a-brewin' as we head into the final episode.
Our final time with the gang starts with Lee spilling all the beans to Philippine, about Stacy's behavior during the war: the sheets, the pal Nazi, the Jews who came to him for help whom he ignored. Lee Remick has a whale of a time in this conversation, dressed in pure white and oozing it all out with a bright society smile, every elegant, not stooping to the level of spineless acting pretty much everyone else displays. Philippine rushes to Stacy to ask her father if it's true and of course he can't deny it, so she bolts. Taking nothing from the house but a little briefcase with a panda bear (is she 4, 14 or 24?), she leaves France and Pierre, without telling him the real reason.
Back to Granny Stefanie Philippine goes, still ageless except for a new hairdo. She wants nothing to do with art anymore, but would rather work with her grandmother as an agent. But, she doesn't want to live with her grandmother. She think she's a "late developer emotionally." I'm not sure what that means or why it means she has to leave.
Stacy disappears after his daughter rushes out, but comes back, still wearing a kerchief around the neck all of us would like to ring. He finally is told Lee is dying and now he gets tender. "In our way, we did love another, once," he says. When? He was always too busy with his art. And with that, Lee dies.
Philippine goes to her mother's first boyfriend to find out more about her mother, because no one ever talks about her. He sees her paintings and insists the exhibit them because they are so good. At a party thrown for her, Philippine brings a model they call Arkansas, not exactly a great beauty, but everyone else disagrees. Philippine takes her on a photo shoot to France where of course Pierre is still pining for her. They still love each other enough to dive into a sweaty bedroom session. Her mother and grandmother both went through scenes like this. History is repeating itself ad nauseum at this point. However, she turns down his offer of marriage, citing bogus reasons, not able to tell him the truth.
Stacy has locked himself in his studio, refusing to eat and coughing up enough for us to realize his end is fast approaching (having a cigarette permanently in his mouth doesn't help either). Tiffany is summoned, though she's annoyed at having to go save the man who has never given her a chance. He doesn't treat her any better this time. And she knows it. When he begins to choke and call for water, she stays in her room, listening ot his howling but staying put. He goes to paint something and collapses. Her Regina Giddens moment works because he dies. "At last, you bastard, you never even wanted to paint me," she says over his corpse. Worse yet, Tiffany finds out about his will, which infuriates her.
In the US, Robert shows up again to read Stefanie and Philippine Stacy's will. He leaves her his best paintings and the farm to Philippine and very little but contempt for Tiffany. The trio goes to France to argue the fact that Tiffany is contesting the will, on the grounds that Philippine's mother was a whore and other such slanders, called "notorious misconduct." Philippine wins the case. Even her ogre of a husband leaves her, also not much of a loss. Ian comes very close to revealing the whole truth to Philippine, who has no interest in the art her father left her, but he wants to see it. So, into the studio one last time Philippine, Ian and the rest traipse. Ian gets a surprise to see the masterpieces are tributes to Judaism, his repentance for what he did to Ian and the other Jews. "He asked for fogiveness, the only way he knew," Ian says, without rancor.
To wrap everything up nicely, Philippine agrees to marry Pierre and become a painter. Stefanie asks Robert to marry her and they have a big kiss to end it all. Judith is back to close the miniseries, reading badly from cue cards and trying to vindicate her own work and then rehashing the plot twists, as if we haven't understood them. We get it! It's Judith Krantz, for crying out loud.
By the rules of the miniseries, "Mistral's Daughter" really should be great fun. Generations of anger and sex, great romance, great art, all of it should add up to sublime decorous amusement, but the piece has two problems that it cannot overcome. First, it's deadly boring. It's written so childishly that it never lifts itself off the ground. The second problem is the lead character of Mistral. He's so amazingly ugly and unlikable, without any redeeming features that it leaves a gaping hole where a hero should be. For the first few hours, it's somewhat amusing because Stefanie Powers is good enough to cover, but once her character is sidelined, Stacy Keach and his disgusting Mistral have to hold it up. That's like asking a scorpion to spend a week at your country house. You will constantly have a case of the creeps. If the moral is that mere mortals can't understand the power and genius of an artist, Krantz and company have picked the wrong vessel to prove that assumption.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
Onassis: The Richest Man in the World (1988)
Because the miniseries movement made a virtual sub-genre about anything having to do with the Kennedys, naturally it got around to Ari Onassis, though he was certain a dramatic larger-than-life figure of his own, perfect dramatic fodder for the personalities the miniseries celebrated. He appears in nearly all of the Kennedy miniseries and had at least one theatrical movie made about him ("The Greek Tycoon," though it's "fiction," it's clearly about Onassis), usually played by an elderly vet who looks like a gross old man next to ethereal Jackie, so it's nice to have a story where he's allowed to be a gross young man next to everyone, Jackie included (this movie is awfully kind to his aging process, not to mention his looks). In life, Ari Onassis was the very personification of 20th Century Eurotrash, parvenu nouveu riche, a man coarse and vulgar, but with so much money that everyone paid homage. If he hadn't been for real, the miniseries would have certainly invented him. So, it stands to reason that it instead gets to re-invent him as some sort of charming Lothario who went from woman to woman as he happened to be gathering the world's greatest fortune.
"Onassis: The Richest Man in the World" also features our muse of the miniseries, Jane Seymour, in her only Emmy-winning role. Can you believe it? Just one Emmy. I thought she won at least a few for "Dr. Quinn," but nope. Not "East of Eden" and not even "War and Remembrance." She sure as hell deserved a wall full of Emmys, but for now, this one will have to do (and it does, because she's magnificent).
This movie is a Grade-A cheese-fest, the kind that made American television so delicious in the 1980s. Ridiculously cast and no deeper than page two of a tabloid, "Onassis: The Richest Man in the World" is presented as a Greek-infused "Dallas," with Onassis basically J.R. Ewing on a boat.
The movie begs us to laugh from the onset where Raul Julia does does his version of a dramatic Greek dance amidst ruins on a Greek cliff while the major players on his life give one-line obituaries about him. It's okay, you can hit pause while you stop laughing. Raul Julia as Ari Onassis? The most Hispanic of actors playing the most Greek of men? Fine if the movie wants a star, but Raul Julia? Not once in his career (not even here) did he try to hide his natural accent for a film role. But, on top of that, wow, they certainly upped Ari, who was an ugly little gnome of a man, on the handsome scale!
The movie starts with Young Ari (Elias Koteas) running a race on the beach while his disapproving father watches. Socrates Onassis (Anthony Quinn, who played the Ari character in "The Greek Tycoon"), clucks to his family, "I have to teach him something...before life does," when he's told he's too hard on his son. That's interesting parenting. Because Socrates is so nasty, Young Ari loses the second race. But, his uncle sweeps him off to a local whorehouse where Young Ari is baffled to find out that someone may like him only for his money. He better get used to it, because everyone in the man's life would do the same.
Socrates Onassis is a Smyrna merchant who dispenses advice to his son that sounds like the Greek version of fortune cookies, but with a sincerity that borders on the fanatical (Tony Quinn had long given up trying to actually act by this point in his career). War between the Greeks and Turks splits Socrates from his brother, Ari's favorite relative, and the Turks confiscate Socrates' property and money. Ari volunteers to stay on in the house to avoid being sent to a labor camp.
Anthony Quinn goes into melodrama hysterics living in a prison camp, begging his son through the fence to get him some new pants as he has soiled himself. Young Ari can help by sharing a bed with the Turkish general who has taken his family's home, but it takes his papa's money, hidden under the floorboards, to bribe officials and reunite the family. Is Socrates grateful? Of course not! He castigates his son for leaving him nothing to restart his business. Of course the argument is REALLY about Ari's relationship with the Turk. Papa tosses Ari out of the house, but he's more than willing to go, boarding a ship to Buenos Aires and vowing to return, wearing a suit but playing good old-fashioned Greek tragedy.
He sends his family letters about how he lives among "high society" in Buenos Aires (he works in a restaurant where they eat) and he has the finest instruction in the tango (he reads it out of a book and draws chalk outlines on the floor) and has a job in communications (he's a switchboard operator who listens in on conversations). It's the importation of Turkish tobacco that starts Ari's fortune, swindling a bank into giving him a loan for the materials because he listens in on a call that says Turkish cigarettes are all the rage.
Only when Ari returns to Greece does Raul Julia take over playing him. I suppose that makes sense. One leaves Greece Greek and returns to from Argentina Latin. That's the only explanation I can think of for how the hell anyone cast Raul Julia as Ari Onassis. Because Ari returns to Greece wealthy, Papa Socrates is thrilled to see him. A welcome home dinner gives Quinn a chance to revisit his Zorba dance moves, and when he invites his son to dance with him, one expects a tango from the son and a heart attack from the father. Only the latter happens, of course, because old people who dance in miniseries are not long for the world, and the next scene shows everyone on the way to his funeral.
Onassis is interesting in shipping, helped by his loyal friend Costa Gratsos (John Kapelos), and a montage shows us how quickly he became a gazillionaire, inventing the supertanker, exploiting wars and finally making it to America, where he works his smooth Latin charm (sorry, Greek charm...no, Latin charm, because Raul Julia isn't even attempting to play Greek here) on the Tina Livanos, a Greek girl whose father is a shipping magnate. Onassis suggests "a merger...a personal merger" to her father, telling him he might as well take him into the family and avoid being competition. His "killer instinct," as Costa calls it, is fully in bloom. Tina (Beatie Edney) is certainly no prize, but Onassis is too focused on monopolizing the oil shipping industry. Even at his wedding he's all business.
The wedding night is not exactly as upper-crust Tina expected. No silk pajamas, just Ari in a towel, delighting in his physical prowess. Time passes, two children are born, Onassis fills his home with golden everything and he goes after an airline company. The marriage doesn't work. Ari sleeps around and Tina resents being "a possession." "You're nothing but a Turkish peasant," she snaps in a dialogue exchange that occurs in every miniseries about a rich person with an unhappy spouse (we saw it a few times with Barbara Hutton already), but this miniseries gives us a twist here. Ari slaps her and then kisses her for it. The man is a sexual fiend.
It's Jane Seymour time! We have our first glimpse of her Maria Callas mid-opera, with Onassis bewitched in the audience. Okay, is Jane any better cast as Maria than Raul as Ari? Probably not, but here's the difference: Jane Seymour can act and therefore makes us believe, whereas Raul plays himself and remembers only periodically he's being filmed.
Callas is invited aboard the Christina, Onassis' island-sized yacht, and the two oversized personalities meld beautifully. Callas is nagged by her manager-husband about an upcoming concert and Jane runs around the boat yelling, "I will always have another concert. I may never have another yacht," before tossing a newspaper into the sea, getting a standing ovation from Ari for that bit of histrionics. Ari counters with some cheese of his own, plucking flowers and talking about how they remind him of the past and then seducing her in a tiny watering hole with more of that Greek dancing he doesn't do so well. Watch this scene for the contrast in styles: Julia smolders like Valentino because every actor dancing sensually since the 1920s is supposed to do that; Seymour works from the eyes, never forgetting she's in character. Mr. Callas (Geoffrey Hutchings) doesn't stand a chance, even though he rails at his wife that he turned her from a "fat kid from Brooklyn" into the world's reigning opera diva.
The pull from Ari is just too strong and she leaves the argument with her husband to go to Ari's room, where she gives in, but not without expected dramatics. "My heart is beating so fast," she whispers, contorting her body like she's on stage as Ari just wants to get it on. Oh, and did I mention they left the door open, too hot to bother with details? Cue Tina, who finally leaves Ari, because she won't "stand around while you and your canary cavort in public." Their goodbye argument returns us to the world of cliche (she can't handle his whoring and he's bought her everything but never given her himself, blah, blah, blah).
Having learned the fine art of over-the-top fighting from Maria Callas, Onassis threatens Tina's father not to mess with him in a scene that is gut-bustingly amusing. He won't give Tina what she wants in the divorce, but he also won't give up Maria, he tells Costa in an equally goofy scene following. When the press asks him about his Callas, Ari's response is "I'm a sailor, these things happen." Yes, and in only 10 minutes of screen time.
Although Raul Julia has finally decided to open up his performance a little, he picked the wrong time. He's no match for Jane Seymour's Callas, who gets all pissy when he refers to her as a "friend" in the paper, throwing a tantrum that she wants to be known as the mistress of Onassis. She's not at all thrilled that Ari's kids make fun of her, but this is a woman who packs her luggage in a full face of make-up, not exactly the maternal type. Every discussion turns into a fiery argument where Callas explodes again and again. It's great fun to watch, because Jane wipes the deck with Raul each time.
But Maria Callas doesn't have Ari to herself for long. Ari entertains the Churchills (yes, those Churchills) on his yacht along with Lee Radziwill (yes, that Lee Radziwill). Talk turns to her sister Jackie (yes, that Jackie) immediately, though there's a gigantic historical error here. When Lee tells all that Jackie is pregnant, Churchill says, "why not? A Camelot on the other side of the Atlantic." The whole Camelot-Kennedy connection wouldn't actually start until the tail end of JFK's life, but it wouldn't turn myth until after his death, because Jackie carefully created it. I know, I know, I'm the only person who would even hear that sentence, let alone note it.
So here come the Kennedys. Jackie (Francesca Annis) loses her baby and accepts an invitation to recuperate on Ari's yacht. Annis doesn't do a lot but whisper, not one of the better Jackie O impersonations in miniseries history. Ari lays it on thick when he squires Jackie, talking nonsense about legacies and history. "You, you could become a legend," he tells her, which of course she wants to hear. He's learned to manipulate women. The Kennedy brothers, basically a bunch of guys with Boston accents, are not happy with Jackie's choice in yacht mates. They order her home and Bobby tells Jack the next time she needs to rest, "send her to Hyannisport." Oh, yeah, kick back during tackle football, that's exactly what Jackie wanted.
This Jackie is frankly annoying. "I just realized, I haven't seen your eyes this entire trip," she whispers to Ari, the sunglasses-wearing Jack Nicholson of the high seas "and eyes are the windows of the soul," sounding like one of the highfalutin' books she read at Miss Porter's. "I like to keep the curtains drawn," he replies, sounding like a hokum-laden miniseries character. "I think I'll start wearing glasses all the time. It does add a certain mystique," Jackie replies. Ah, mystery solved! Now we know where Jackie got her obsession for sunglasses: a chance quip on the Onassis yacht.
Just because Jackie has entered the picture doesn't mean Maria Callas has left it. Maria isn't initially that jealous. "I heard her speak once. She sounded like Marilyn Monroe playing Ophelia," she jokes in the movie's best line. They start mauling each other with kisses and then JFK is killed. Onassis is invited to the funeral by Lee. "A Greek in the White House?" Bobby rages. Onassis, in hushed tones, offers Jackie any solace she may require, but he's still with Maria, at least physically for his attentions have of course been turned to the world's highest prize, the widow Kennedy. He visits her at a rehearsal (which she conducts in a fur coat), and she tells him she needs him at an upcoming concert because she knows the audiences are turning on her. He says he'll be back in time for the concert and invents an excuse about having to visit one of his tankers.
Maria is fit to be tied when Ari isn't at the concert. "Roses, roses, but where is Aristo?" she howls when she gets baskets of flowers and downs pills to calm her down before the performance. Aristo is in a tuxedo serving a fine meal to Jackie, long having abandoned her widow's weeds for sparkling diamonds. The scene where Onassis talks to himself in the mirror about how virile he still is, rehearsing a speech for Jackie is terrific camp, especially because Raul looks 40 and Onassis was over 60 by this point. But, his goony speech works on Jackie, much to Bobby's ire. He complains to her on a walk through the woods, but I could only understand his dialogue because hers is so whispered it's not picked up by the microphones. He needs her support for his campaign and I think she goes into her "I'm frightened for the kids" speech (a bit prematurely, historically), but again, it's hard to hear, even at full volume. Practical Bobby insists that she at least wait until he wins the election before she goes public with her affair. "Sooner or later it is going to come down to a test of wills," Ari roars when he gets the news, setting up his well-documented hatred for Bobby (this movie is based on Peter Evans book, his first about Onassis, and his second would be about their actual dispute, making an interesting argument for Onassis' part in Bobby's assassination).
Costa reminds Ari that while Jackie is unavailable, he still has Maria, so he shows up with flowers and more of that silky Latin...Greek...Laek...Gratin...whatever, charm. They end up in bed together, where they work best, Maria happy with "your beautiful lies."
We return to the land of the miniseries cliche where Ari's grown-up son is nervously flying a plane with Dad. Onassis only wants to hear about boats, while Alexander wants to run the airline. You don't have to know Alexander's story to know where flying a plane will lead.
But, before we can get to that tragedy, Bobby Kennedy is killed. Jackie goes into whispering hysterics, with her famous line, "they're killing Kennedys now" and she wants out of the family. "She's free of the Kennedys," Ari tells Costa, now fully able to go after what he wants. Jackie's priest doesn't make it easy, giving her a supreme Catholic guilt trip, throwing in her dead husband, dead son and even Ari's living wife. She's whispers back a fairly long speech that begs for a commercial to stop viewers from falling asleep.
Teddy Kennedy is dispatched to Greece to bargain Jackie's marriage to Ari. Ari insists on a prenup in a business-like fashion. Here's a failing of the writing. Until now, Ari has actually seemed enchanted by Jackie, so turning him into a harsh mercenary in just one scene is awfully jarring. But don't worry folks, in to clean up that mess is Maria Callas. Ari tries to blunt her shrieking by saying Jackie needs him. "She needs your money, while I need youuuuuuuuu," she insists. "You are a coward, you are afraid of love," Maria rails, alternating a scream-a-thon with her own guilt trip about how she's lost her voice and now his love, which he certainly doesn't have for Jackie. "Jackie's done well, finding a grandfather for her children," our beloved Jane heckles.
Onassis, with sudden gray hair, marries Jackie and declares it's the happiest day of his life. When Jackie whispers complaints about how the American press has turned on her, Ari says, "the only place you'll find secrecy is in the dictionary." Ari said that? I have trouble believing he could ever come up with a line that clever. Ari is actually very good with the kids, though Jackie's queeny pal Billy Baldwin isn't impressed by Ari's lack of finesse (if the limp-wrist act doesn't peg him as one of Jackie's gay boys, when he hears that breakfast is one and rushes off saying, "ooooh, sausage" certainly will).
Costa is summoned by Maria, crying her mascara into a Dali painting on her face because she can't understand how Ari has betrayed her. I am confident in my assumption that this scene only exists because the final part of the movie without Jane's performance would be an awfully whispered dull affair.
Back in the questionable writing, Ari seems to be back in love with Jackie, lavishing gifts on her because he wants her to be "totally dependent on me." Costa tries to keep Ari in line, explaining to him how he managed to spent $20 million in one year. "She's a poor girl from a rich family, I'm trying to give her what she needs," Ari argues, determined to live up to his end of the bargain and keep her spoiled with luxury. But, she's not fulfilled because Ari is never around (which in real life was apparently made her quite happy).
Ari has another argument on Alexander's plane that ends with Alexander refusing to pay homage to his step-mother and as Alexander flies off, Ari yells, "spoiled kid! I was only trying to teach you how to do business!" Don't worry, we're getting closer to capping Alexander's cliche.
When Jackie refuses to wait for him on his island, he follows her to New York, where in the middle of a lavish party, Ari very obnoxiously loads her with jewelry in front of the guest, much to her horror. This cues an argument where Jackie whispers some nonsense about how he's never around when she needs him and he counters that she should stay in Greece. He gets back at her by taking Maria to Maxim's where she delights in his vulgar thigh-grabbing under the table with the press snapping pictures. What does Jackie do? She flies to Paris and takes him to Maxim's, sitting at the same table. They resume their argument about how neither is getting what he or she wanted out of the marriage. Ari goes to Roy Cohn (Garrick Hogan) of all people, to try to figure out how to divorce her. "I don't mind a million or two, but I won't be looted and I won't have lawyers dancing on my grave," Ari chides Roy. Then what the hell is he doing with Roy Cohn?
Ari is trying his best to divorce Jackie and not lose a fortune when Alexander takes off in his plane. Costa has to deliver the bad news: yup, plane crash. We saw it coming many scenes ago, but Ari is surprised. Alexander is not instantly killed, lying in the hospital while Raul Julia gets his first chance to cry (would it be a lead TV performance without tears?). "Why would you do this to me? How did this happen? You were everything. I'm human. I make mistakes, but there was always love in my heart," he says in a monologue before Alexander finally does die. He refuses Jackie's sympathy, going instead to Maria for succor, and to share his theories that the Greek gods have done this to him, "because I squandered their gifts."
Now Onassis has gone beyond gray, straight to a full shock of white hair, but the addition of a bit of jowls doesn't make Raul Julia look at all like Onassis did near the end of his life. Costa wants him to get back to business, to teach daughter Christina the family business, but he's too grief-stricken. Even his beloved sister can't snap him out of the funk. It gets worse, because his doctor tells him he has a fatal illness. As he loses control of his muscles, Christina has to tape his eyelids open, though he can still smoke a cigar. Ari starts in on the fortune cookie business savvy his father taught him and Christina takes to it pretty well. They bond over mutual hatred for Jackie, who will not give into his divorce demands, instead waiting for him to die.
In full (but cheap-looking) old-man prosthetics, Ari is dying in a hospital bed when Maria comes in incognito to visit. He admits his cruelty to her and his love, "as much as I knew how." It's actually a touching scene, a rare chance instance where Jane gives the scene over to Raul. If the movie hasn't painted Jackie as villainous so broadly enough, her pre-written speech delivered on airplane steps makes her a real bitch! The Onassis family gets back at her by stuffing her into the back of the funeral line. Costa stands over his coffin and gives him a cold send-off, saying "you were the best of men and the worst." Jackie plants a kiss on the coffin and that's it. I mean, that's it for the movie. Other than a shot of Raul dancing on the rock again, the movie actually ends with Jackie and not Ari. Cheated by the Kennedys even in his own miniseries!
Prince or bastard, one thing Ari Onassis was not was two-dimensional. But, as portrayed by Raul Julia, it's a struggle to get even those two dimensions from him. Once again, it's Jane Seymour who takes mediocre trash and makes it sparkle. She's working from the same script as uninterested Raul and very bored (and boring) Francesca, but she manages to make her scenes work. Then again, Maria Callas was probably the most exciting person in the Onassis story, though Jackie O will always be its centerpiece.
"Onassis: The Richest Man in the World" also features our muse of the miniseries, Jane Seymour, in her only Emmy-winning role. Can you believe it? Just one Emmy. I thought she won at least a few for "Dr. Quinn," but nope. Not "East of Eden" and not even "War and Remembrance." She sure as hell deserved a wall full of Emmys, but for now, this one will have to do (and it does, because she's magnificent).
This movie is a Grade-A cheese-fest, the kind that made American television so delicious in the 1980s. Ridiculously cast and no deeper than page two of a tabloid, "Onassis: The Richest Man in the World" is presented as a Greek-infused "Dallas," with Onassis basically J.R. Ewing on a boat.
The movie begs us to laugh from the onset where Raul Julia does does his version of a dramatic Greek dance amidst ruins on a Greek cliff while the major players on his life give one-line obituaries about him. It's okay, you can hit pause while you stop laughing. Raul Julia as Ari Onassis? The most Hispanic of actors playing the most Greek of men? Fine if the movie wants a star, but Raul Julia? Not once in his career (not even here) did he try to hide his natural accent for a film role. But, on top of that, wow, they certainly upped Ari, who was an ugly little gnome of a man, on the handsome scale!
The movie starts with Young Ari (Elias Koteas) running a race on the beach while his disapproving father watches. Socrates Onassis (Anthony Quinn, who played the Ari character in "The Greek Tycoon"), clucks to his family, "I have to teach him something...before life does," when he's told he's too hard on his son. That's interesting parenting. Because Socrates is so nasty, Young Ari loses the second race. But, his uncle sweeps him off to a local whorehouse where Young Ari is baffled to find out that someone may like him only for his money. He better get used to it, because everyone in the man's life would do the same.
Socrates Onassis is a Smyrna merchant who dispenses advice to his son that sounds like the Greek version of fortune cookies, but with a sincerity that borders on the fanatical (Tony Quinn had long given up trying to actually act by this point in his career). War between the Greeks and Turks splits Socrates from his brother, Ari's favorite relative, and the Turks confiscate Socrates' property and money. Ari volunteers to stay on in the house to avoid being sent to a labor camp.
Anthony Quinn goes into melodrama hysterics living in a prison camp, begging his son through the fence to get him some new pants as he has soiled himself. Young Ari can help by sharing a bed with the Turkish general who has taken his family's home, but it takes his papa's money, hidden under the floorboards, to bribe officials and reunite the family. Is Socrates grateful? Of course not! He castigates his son for leaving him nothing to restart his business. Of course the argument is REALLY about Ari's relationship with the Turk. Papa tosses Ari out of the house, but he's more than willing to go, boarding a ship to Buenos Aires and vowing to return, wearing a suit but playing good old-fashioned Greek tragedy.
He sends his family letters about how he lives among "high society" in Buenos Aires (he works in a restaurant where they eat) and he has the finest instruction in the tango (he reads it out of a book and draws chalk outlines on the floor) and has a job in communications (he's a switchboard operator who listens in on conversations). It's the importation of Turkish tobacco that starts Ari's fortune, swindling a bank into giving him a loan for the materials because he listens in on a call that says Turkish cigarettes are all the rage.
Only when Ari returns to Greece does Raul Julia take over playing him. I suppose that makes sense. One leaves Greece Greek and returns to from Argentina Latin. That's the only explanation I can think of for how the hell anyone cast Raul Julia as Ari Onassis. Because Ari returns to Greece wealthy, Papa Socrates is thrilled to see him. A welcome home dinner gives Quinn a chance to revisit his Zorba dance moves, and when he invites his son to dance with him, one expects a tango from the son and a heart attack from the father. Only the latter happens, of course, because old people who dance in miniseries are not long for the world, and the next scene shows everyone on the way to his funeral.
Onassis is interesting in shipping, helped by his loyal friend Costa Gratsos (John Kapelos), and a montage shows us how quickly he became a gazillionaire, inventing the supertanker, exploiting wars and finally making it to America, where he works his smooth Latin charm (sorry, Greek charm...no, Latin charm, because Raul Julia isn't even attempting to play Greek here) on the Tina Livanos, a Greek girl whose father is a shipping magnate. Onassis suggests "a merger...a personal merger" to her father, telling him he might as well take him into the family and avoid being competition. His "killer instinct," as Costa calls it, is fully in bloom. Tina (Beatie Edney) is certainly no prize, but Onassis is too focused on monopolizing the oil shipping industry. Even at his wedding he's all business.
The wedding night is not exactly as upper-crust Tina expected. No silk pajamas, just Ari in a towel, delighting in his physical prowess. Time passes, two children are born, Onassis fills his home with golden everything and he goes after an airline company. The marriage doesn't work. Ari sleeps around and Tina resents being "a possession." "You're nothing but a Turkish peasant," she snaps in a dialogue exchange that occurs in every miniseries about a rich person with an unhappy spouse (we saw it a few times with Barbara Hutton already), but this miniseries gives us a twist here. Ari slaps her and then kisses her for it. The man is a sexual fiend.
It's Jane Seymour time! We have our first glimpse of her Maria Callas mid-opera, with Onassis bewitched in the audience. Okay, is Jane any better cast as Maria than Raul as Ari? Probably not, but here's the difference: Jane Seymour can act and therefore makes us believe, whereas Raul plays himself and remembers only periodically he's being filmed.
Callas is invited aboard the Christina, Onassis' island-sized yacht, and the two oversized personalities meld beautifully. Callas is nagged by her manager-husband about an upcoming concert and Jane runs around the boat yelling, "I will always have another concert. I may never have another yacht," before tossing a newspaper into the sea, getting a standing ovation from Ari for that bit of histrionics. Ari counters with some cheese of his own, plucking flowers and talking about how they remind him of the past and then seducing her in a tiny watering hole with more of that Greek dancing he doesn't do so well. Watch this scene for the contrast in styles: Julia smolders like Valentino because every actor dancing sensually since the 1920s is supposed to do that; Seymour works from the eyes, never forgetting she's in character. Mr. Callas (Geoffrey Hutchings) doesn't stand a chance, even though he rails at his wife that he turned her from a "fat kid from Brooklyn" into the world's reigning opera diva.
The pull from Ari is just too strong and she leaves the argument with her husband to go to Ari's room, where she gives in, but not without expected dramatics. "My heart is beating so fast," she whispers, contorting her body like she's on stage as Ari just wants to get it on. Oh, and did I mention they left the door open, too hot to bother with details? Cue Tina, who finally leaves Ari, because she won't "stand around while you and your canary cavort in public." Their goodbye argument returns us to the world of cliche (she can't handle his whoring and he's bought her everything but never given her himself, blah, blah, blah).
Having learned the fine art of over-the-top fighting from Maria Callas, Onassis threatens Tina's father not to mess with him in a scene that is gut-bustingly amusing. He won't give Tina what she wants in the divorce, but he also won't give up Maria, he tells Costa in an equally goofy scene following. When the press asks him about his Callas, Ari's response is "I'm a sailor, these things happen." Yes, and in only 10 minutes of screen time.
Although Raul Julia has finally decided to open up his performance a little, he picked the wrong time. He's no match for Jane Seymour's Callas, who gets all pissy when he refers to her as a "friend" in the paper, throwing a tantrum that she wants to be known as the mistress of Onassis. She's not at all thrilled that Ari's kids make fun of her, but this is a woman who packs her luggage in a full face of make-up, not exactly the maternal type. Every discussion turns into a fiery argument where Callas explodes again and again. It's great fun to watch, because Jane wipes the deck with Raul each time.
But Maria Callas doesn't have Ari to herself for long. Ari entertains the Churchills (yes, those Churchills) on his yacht along with Lee Radziwill (yes, that Lee Radziwill). Talk turns to her sister Jackie (yes, that Jackie) immediately, though there's a gigantic historical error here. When Lee tells all that Jackie is pregnant, Churchill says, "why not? A Camelot on the other side of the Atlantic." The whole Camelot-Kennedy connection wouldn't actually start until the tail end of JFK's life, but it wouldn't turn myth until after his death, because Jackie carefully created it. I know, I know, I'm the only person who would even hear that sentence, let alone note it.
So here come the Kennedys. Jackie (Francesca Annis) loses her baby and accepts an invitation to recuperate on Ari's yacht. Annis doesn't do a lot but whisper, not one of the better Jackie O impersonations in miniseries history. Ari lays it on thick when he squires Jackie, talking nonsense about legacies and history. "You, you could become a legend," he tells her, which of course she wants to hear. He's learned to manipulate women. The Kennedy brothers, basically a bunch of guys with Boston accents, are not happy with Jackie's choice in yacht mates. They order her home and Bobby tells Jack the next time she needs to rest, "send her to Hyannisport." Oh, yeah, kick back during tackle football, that's exactly what Jackie wanted.
This Jackie is frankly annoying. "I just realized, I haven't seen your eyes this entire trip," she whispers to Ari, the sunglasses-wearing Jack Nicholson of the high seas "and eyes are the windows of the soul," sounding like one of the highfalutin' books she read at Miss Porter's. "I like to keep the curtains drawn," he replies, sounding like a hokum-laden miniseries character. "I think I'll start wearing glasses all the time. It does add a certain mystique," Jackie replies. Ah, mystery solved! Now we know where Jackie got her obsession for sunglasses: a chance quip on the Onassis yacht.
Just because Jackie has entered the picture doesn't mean Maria Callas has left it. Maria isn't initially that jealous. "I heard her speak once. She sounded like Marilyn Monroe playing Ophelia," she jokes in the movie's best line. They start mauling each other with kisses and then JFK is killed. Onassis is invited to the funeral by Lee. "A Greek in the White House?" Bobby rages. Onassis, in hushed tones, offers Jackie any solace she may require, but he's still with Maria, at least physically for his attentions have of course been turned to the world's highest prize, the widow Kennedy. He visits her at a rehearsal (which she conducts in a fur coat), and she tells him she needs him at an upcoming concert because she knows the audiences are turning on her. He says he'll be back in time for the concert and invents an excuse about having to visit one of his tankers.
Maria is fit to be tied when Ari isn't at the concert. "Roses, roses, but where is Aristo?" she howls when she gets baskets of flowers and downs pills to calm her down before the performance. Aristo is in a tuxedo serving a fine meal to Jackie, long having abandoned her widow's weeds for sparkling diamonds. The scene where Onassis talks to himself in the mirror about how virile he still is, rehearsing a speech for Jackie is terrific camp, especially because Raul looks 40 and Onassis was over 60 by this point. But, his goony speech works on Jackie, much to Bobby's ire. He complains to her on a walk through the woods, but I could only understand his dialogue because hers is so whispered it's not picked up by the microphones. He needs her support for his campaign and I think she goes into her "I'm frightened for the kids" speech (a bit prematurely, historically), but again, it's hard to hear, even at full volume. Practical Bobby insists that she at least wait until he wins the election before she goes public with her affair. "Sooner or later it is going to come down to a test of wills," Ari roars when he gets the news, setting up his well-documented hatred for Bobby (this movie is based on Peter Evans book, his first about Onassis, and his second would be about their actual dispute, making an interesting argument for Onassis' part in Bobby's assassination).
Costa reminds Ari that while Jackie is unavailable, he still has Maria, so he shows up with flowers and more of that silky Latin...Greek...Laek...Gratin...whatever, charm. They end up in bed together, where they work best, Maria happy with "your beautiful lies."
We return to the land of the miniseries cliche where Ari's grown-up son is nervously flying a plane with Dad. Onassis only wants to hear about boats, while Alexander wants to run the airline. You don't have to know Alexander's story to know where flying a plane will lead.
But, before we can get to that tragedy, Bobby Kennedy is killed. Jackie goes into whispering hysterics, with her famous line, "they're killing Kennedys now" and she wants out of the family. "She's free of the Kennedys," Ari tells Costa, now fully able to go after what he wants. Jackie's priest doesn't make it easy, giving her a supreme Catholic guilt trip, throwing in her dead husband, dead son and even Ari's living wife. She's whispers back a fairly long speech that begs for a commercial to stop viewers from falling asleep.
Teddy Kennedy is dispatched to Greece to bargain Jackie's marriage to Ari. Ari insists on a prenup in a business-like fashion. Here's a failing of the writing. Until now, Ari has actually seemed enchanted by Jackie, so turning him into a harsh mercenary in just one scene is awfully jarring. But don't worry folks, in to clean up that mess is Maria Callas. Ari tries to blunt her shrieking by saying Jackie needs him. "She needs your money, while I need youuuuuuuuu," she insists. "You are a coward, you are afraid of love," Maria rails, alternating a scream-a-thon with her own guilt trip about how she's lost her voice and now his love, which he certainly doesn't have for Jackie. "Jackie's done well, finding a grandfather for her children," our beloved Jane heckles.
Onassis, with sudden gray hair, marries Jackie and declares it's the happiest day of his life. When Jackie whispers complaints about how the American press has turned on her, Ari says, "the only place you'll find secrecy is in the dictionary." Ari said that? I have trouble believing he could ever come up with a line that clever. Ari is actually very good with the kids, though Jackie's queeny pal Billy Baldwin isn't impressed by Ari's lack of finesse (if the limp-wrist act doesn't peg him as one of Jackie's gay boys, when he hears that breakfast is one and rushes off saying, "ooooh, sausage" certainly will).
Costa is summoned by Maria, crying her mascara into a Dali painting on her face because she can't understand how Ari has betrayed her. I am confident in my assumption that this scene only exists because the final part of the movie without Jane's performance would be an awfully whispered dull affair.
Back in the questionable writing, Ari seems to be back in love with Jackie, lavishing gifts on her because he wants her to be "totally dependent on me." Costa tries to keep Ari in line, explaining to him how he managed to spent $20 million in one year. "She's a poor girl from a rich family, I'm trying to give her what she needs," Ari argues, determined to live up to his end of the bargain and keep her spoiled with luxury. But, she's not fulfilled because Ari is never around (which in real life was apparently made her quite happy).
Ari has another argument on Alexander's plane that ends with Alexander refusing to pay homage to his step-mother and as Alexander flies off, Ari yells, "spoiled kid! I was only trying to teach you how to do business!" Don't worry, we're getting closer to capping Alexander's cliche.
When Jackie refuses to wait for him on his island, he follows her to New York, where in the middle of a lavish party, Ari very obnoxiously loads her with jewelry in front of the guest, much to her horror. This cues an argument where Jackie whispers some nonsense about how he's never around when she needs him and he counters that she should stay in Greece. He gets back at her by taking Maria to Maxim's where she delights in his vulgar thigh-grabbing under the table with the press snapping pictures. What does Jackie do? She flies to Paris and takes him to Maxim's, sitting at the same table. They resume their argument about how neither is getting what he or she wanted out of the marriage. Ari goes to Roy Cohn (Garrick Hogan) of all people, to try to figure out how to divorce her. "I don't mind a million or two, but I won't be looted and I won't have lawyers dancing on my grave," Ari chides Roy. Then what the hell is he doing with Roy Cohn?
Ari is trying his best to divorce Jackie and not lose a fortune when Alexander takes off in his plane. Costa has to deliver the bad news: yup, plane crash. We saw it coming many scenes ago, but Ari is surprised. Alexander is not instantly killed, lying in the hospital while Raul Julia gets his first chance to cry (would it be a lead TV performance without tears?). "Why would you do this to me? How did this happen? You were everything. I'm human. I make mistakes, but there was always love in my heart," he says in a monologue before Alexander finally does die. He refuses Jackie's sympathy, going instead to Maria for succor, and to share his theories that the Greek gods have done this to him, "because I squandered their gifts."
Now Onassis has gone beyond gray, straight to a full shock of white hair, but the addition of a bit of jowls doesn't make Raul Julia look at all like Onassis did near the end of his life. Costa wants him to get back to business, to teach daughter Christina the family business, but he's too grief-stricken. Even his beloved sister can't snap him out of the funk. It gets worse, because his doctor tells him he has a fatal illness. As he loses control of his muscles, Christina has to tape his eyelids open, though he can still smoke a cigar. Ari starts in on the fortune cookie business savvy his father taught him and Christina takes to it pretty well. They bond over mutual hatred for Jackie, who will not give into his divorce demands, instead waiting for him to die.
In full (but cheap-looking) old-man prosthetics, Ari is dying in a hospital bed when Maria comes in incognito to visit. He admits his cruelty to her and his love, "as much as I knew how." It's actually a touching scene, a rare chance instance where Jane gives the scene over to Raul. If the movie hasn't painted Jackie as villainous so broadly enough, her pre-written speech delivered on airplane steps makes her a real bitch! The Onassis family gets back at her by stuffing her into the back of the funeral line. Costa stands over his coffin and gives him a cold send-off, saying "you were the best of men and the worst." Jackie plants a kiss on the coffin and that's it. I mean, that's it for the movie. Other than a shot of Raul dancing on the rock again, the movie actually ends with Jackie and not Ari. Cheated by the Kennedys even in his own miniseries!
Prince or bastard, one thing Ari Onassis was not was two-dimensional. But, as portrayed by Raul Julia, it's a struggle to get even those two dimensions from him. Once again, it's Jane Seymour who takes mediocre trash and makes it sparkle. She's working from the same script as uninterested Raul and very bored (and boring) Francesca, but she manages to make her scenes work. Then again, Maria Callas was probably the most exciting person in the Onassis story, though Jackie O will always be its centerpiece.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
The Bunker (1981)
Since the miniseries is obsessed with anything related to World War II, Adolf Hitler pops up a lot. In "The Bunker," he pops up to be played by Anthony Hopkins, who won an Emmy for his work, taking on one of the craziest roles of his career (his actual career, not the crap he churned out after winning an Oscar and deciding to phone in the rest of his performances). He comes closer than most Hitlers to being human, because he's such a damn amazing actor, but the piece is very clear that he's no hero. He's a dying man, his nerves worn and his mind eaten away, and Hopkins is masterful, creating a fleshed-out character, but making sure not to overdo the pleas for sympathy because that would be cinematically unrealistic and historically untrue.
As expected, this being a historical miniseries, the movie starts at the end. It's Occupied Berlin, 1945. Soldier James Naughton (playing James O'Donnell on whose book the movie is based) is looking for the bunker. He asks a few Russian soldiers, but they don't understand "da boonker" he yells, like a good ugly American and of course now they get it. At the entrance, even that doesn't help, but two cigarettes finally get him entry. James O'Donnell's book was actually filled with interviews
Back to January of the same year. The Russians and Americans are advancing on Berlin. Hitler has decided it's time to go down and there he will stay for over 100 days until his cowardly end. A picture of Frederick the Great (an awfully flattering one) is placed on the wall and smoking is not allowed. Everyone is very pre-occupied with the little things, but by this point in history, Hitler had long lost a sense of reality. The first of our friendly bunker denizens to arrive is Albert Speer (an impossibly dashing Richard Jordan), who gets ushered into a meeting where Hitler is listening to a report from his generals that contains very little truth, because they know he can't handle it.
Speer and Hitler meet privately, where Hitler is clearly out of his gourd. He indeed wants Germany destroyed so the enemies can't get to it. Speer notes that it would bring Germany "back to the Middle Ages," which gets a smile from Hitler, who also says that any German who doesn't survive isn't a good German. "The good ones will have already died," he says plainly. Speer is dumbfounded, but formulates a plan to gas the bunker (how's that for irony?) in order to spare Germany from Hitler's madness, well, what hasn't been destroyed already.
It doesn't take too long for Hitler to have one of his infamous tirades, ripping into his generals, who seem to barely notice, having been through it before. Anthony Hopkins not only performs the tirade as written, but his whole body gets into the act. Not once during the meeting with the generals does he actually look anyone directly in the eye and his body languages suggests a confused old man.
Get used to the arguments between Speer and Hitler. Speer is the one voice in the chorus who doesn't agree with the destruction of Germany just for the sake of it, but Hitler is insistent. His hands constantly shaking and his legs barely shuffling, Hitler interrupts the conversation to present Speer with a birthday present, his photograph, and then returns to his orders to raze Germany. Speer decides to give up assassination attempts, but he also decides not to follow Hitler's orders. He's going to have to battle Martin Bormann (Michael Lonsdale), who has it out for Speer and is hell bent on doing anything Hitler says.
After Hitler's beloved dog gives birth, Hitler hauls Speer in for yet another two-way discussion where he lists every war Germany has survived since the Romans. Hitler knows Speer has disobeyed his orders to have Germany destroyed, and graciously offers to have his longtime friend on leave, which Speer refuses. Speer is blunt: "the war is lost." Hitler is fiery: "I will destroy the pestilence of Jewish Marxism...I will defeat them all! I will defy the entire world!" Hitler asks for Speer to have faith in him and his life will be spared, but Speer again sticks to the truth, and then there is some very good writing, a moment that makes us wonder if perhaps Hitler has a tiny grasp on reality still. "Can you at least HOPE that the world is not lost? Surely you must be able to HOPE, Speer. That will be enough to satisfy me," he says, almost trying to convince himself, and gives Speer 24 hours to think it over.
Speer decides to play Hitler's game and tell him what he wants to hear, but his plan is that the destruction operation will never happen, tying it up in red tape.
Also not playing in the sandbox of mental health is Joseph Goebbels (played by Cliff Gorman with the strangest and most annoying American accent). Eyebrows ablaze, Goebbels delights in the news of Roosevelt's death and probably believes his own propaganda that the war is being won.
Into the bunker sweeps Eva Braun (miniseries regular Susan Blakely, whose salary is probably only a fraction of Hopkins' and therefore plays it like she knows she got a raw deal), portrayed here as a daffy dame who brings all of her clothes and furs because she wants to be pretty for Hitler. She's not the only woman in the bunker. There is cook Constanze Manziarly (Pam St. Clement), who is rabidly devoted to Hitler and who has the movie's second time-wasting flashback as she readies candles for Hitler's birthday cake.
The whole gang shows up for the birthday party, bombs bursting outside. Bormann is worried that Hitler isn't strong enough to greet the throngs. Himmler voices secret doubts and even thinks of negotiating peace, though he's still delighting in his concentration camp plans. Hitler fakes his way through an acceptance speech, minimizing his frailty and sticking to the crap about fighting until the end and not being defeated. He spits out, "we shall not be defeated" like a stuck record and then mingles.
Given the news that Berlin is closed on three sides, Hitler orders a huge offensive, and anyone who doesn't obey is to be killed. "He's having enough trouble retreating," his officers snarl to each other about the general who is given this task. Hitler leaves the bunker to greet the Hitler Youth, now drafted into being actual soldiers as there are no adult men left. Human Hitler shines through just a tad as he tells one boy he wishes his generals were as brave as the young.
Quiz time. What element has been missing so far? Like I even have to ask! A slumming movie star, of course! This time, it's Piper Laurie, playing Magda Goebbels, given "guest star" billing. She enters halfway through when her hubby calls and tells her to bring their gaggle to the bunker. Bormann takes the opposite attitude, sending his wife and children away with a cover story about refugee children as he fondles his secretary's hand. Hitler's loyal doctor is sent away, but two secretaries ask his permission personally to be allowed to stay. The denizens of the bunker are finally assembled, all aboard who's going aboard, hunkering down on Berlin's own Titanic below the ground. Gathering the whole staff, Hitler nearly collapses in a screaming fit about staying in Berlin and dying in Berlin, blaming everyone else, but actually admitting, haltingly, that the war is lost.
Yeah, he says that, but soon enough he's spouting gibberish and ordering armies this way and that. One general, who was caught trying to flee, is killed in the bunker, his body left dangling from the ceiling as Hitler reads stories to the Goebbels brood. Things are so bad that the guards on duty have either fled or are upstairs partying with some drunk women.
Speer shows up to say ta-ta, and Bormann wants him to speak to Hitler about leaving the bunker and hightailing it to his aerie home in the country. The Hitler he encounters is completely broken, seeming to go downhill by the minute. Hitler rambles about the plans they once made for a glittering expensive Germany, "what might have been," he admits. Hitler wants to know Speer's opinion on whether he should flee or not, and Speer tells him the leader of the German people should die in Berlin. Hitler has, of course, already decided that, because he knows if he leaves, he may fall into the hands of his captors. Instead he wants to be cremated, so he's "free of everything," as he says, in a moment of wistfulness. Speer bravely admits he has been lying to Hitler, but Hitler is too far gone to comprehend and sends Speer off to bid adieu to Eva, who is in her room, dressed up, hair done and dancing to a peppy record with a bottle of champagne on hand. Blakely plays this scene with a smile plastered on her face, overdoing the innocence routine, at one point even asking, "why did so many people have to be killed?" Has she NOT been living with Hitler through the entire war?
As Speer is on the way out, he runs into Magda, made up to look like a million bucks (Magda Goebbels should have been so lucky). Speer wants to help her leave, but she says, "our lives have no further meaning without the Fuhrer," and she intends to die, along with her children, with the big boss.
Goring has informed Von Ribbentrop that Hitler has gone 'round the bend and he has assumed all of his offices. Bormann tells Hitler it's an act of treason, hoping for a tirade that will end in Goring's head, but Hitler is oddly peaceful. "He's a drug addict," Hitler says and shuffles out of the room. Speer tries to say goodbye, but Hitler's mind is too gone to comprehend and Speer never gets his tender farewell.
To hammer in the fact that this bunker is filled with only nutcases, the women have "afternoon tea and crumpets," chattering about the past, but Hitler is off in a world of his own, croaking about Vienna. Eva will have none of that. She wants to talk of flowers and pretty things...and their impending marriage! Some poor soul is found who can perform the ceremony, rather hysterically saying that all documents are in order. Both promise they are of pure Aryan blood and then can sign the marriage document. Or try, at least, because Hitler's hands shake so badly at this point his signature looks like that of a preschooler. Eva, makes it worse by dashing off a pretty signature at top speed at the same time.
There's a party in full bloom, but Hitler sequesters himself with a secretary and dictates his famous last letter. He blames the Jews, he fires Goring and Himmler and then decides he wants to stay alive until May 5, the date of Napoleon's death. I'm sure the ghost of Napoleon was thrilled.
Goebbels takes it all a step further by throwing himself a party (with his New York accent intact), even summoning dying soldiers to attend. His job as propaganda minister is never finished, so he takes the opportunity to blame the Jews again. He offers the wounded soldiers gratitude and they play along, the sum total of their ages being about 27 and not knowing any better.
It's not a good month to be a world leader. First Roosevelt dies and now Hitler gets the news that Mussolini has been killed. Hitler is unmoved, instead asking his doctor for the cyanide tablets he ordered. They are untested, so he has them fed to the poor dog. They work. Who will take care of the puppies? No one, since the doctor orders them killed too. Geez, the Nazis are puppy killers too?
Eva and Magda hug and Magda knows God will forgive her for doing in her own children. Eva then gets dolled up so she and Hitler can say goodbye to everyone in history's grimmest receiving line. Hitler bequests the painting of Frederick the Great and locks himself in with Eva, who gets comfy on the sofa and removes her shoes.
Hitler and the Mrs. each take their tablet and then Hitler shoots himself in the head, too much of a coward to even wait for the pill to kick in! The staff takes their bodies out of the bunker where they are doused in gasoline and burned. Persniketty little creep Goebbels looks weirdly proud watching the bodies go up in flames.
Magda tells the kids they are flying to the country the next day, but wants them to get a good night's sleep with a special piece of chocolate. She puts on a ravishing gown and collects the kids from playing, taking time to brush their hair and get them all pretty. The staff members are horrified, but bushy-browed Goebbels is only worried that the bodies of Adolf and Eva are charred beyond recognition (or perhaps on the way to Argentina). Goebbels then delivers a monologue in a voice that evokes a tough in an Arthur Miller play. I'm sorry, couldn't he even TRY to go a bit German? None of the other cast members are German, but they attempt accents. After killing the kids, Medea...sorry, Magda has one last cigarette. Her husband prattles on and on and on, also with a cigarette (geez, they didn't wait ten minutes for Hitler to be gone before they lifted the ban on smoking). She sits down to play solitaire and he puts on his flashy leather coat. The Hitlers didn't make nearly as much of offing themselves as these two melodramatic hams. He even chirps to the staff, "at least you won't have to carry our bodies up the stairs," as he and his wife do themselves in outside of the bunker. What a guy!
The secretaries dot their faces with make-up to feign small pox so as not to be raped by the Russian soldiers and everyone leaves. The poor overworked engineer is the last one remaining, clutching a pretty flower and turning on music, interrupted on the radio by news that Hitler has died "fighting in Berlin."
The voice of James Naughton returns to tell us what happened to everyone in the bunker. Most were captured by the Russians, except for Bormann, who killed himself.
Too long by at least half an hour, "The Bunker" is actually very well done. Anthony Hopkins' Hitler is remarkably done, emphasizing the dying man, physically and mentall undone, rather than the irate lunatic. It's not exactly a touching performance, but why should it be? He's playing Hitler after all!
As expected, this being a historical miniseries, the movie starts at the end. It's Occupied Berlin, 1945. Soldier James Naughton (playing James O'Donnell on whose book the movie is based) is looking for the bunker. He asks a few Russian soldiers, but they don't understand "da boonker" he yells, like a good ugly American and of course now they get it. At the entrance, even that doesn't help, but two cigarettes finally get him entry. James O'Donnell's book was actually filled with interviews
Back to January of the same year. The Russians and Americans are advancing on Berlin. Hitler has decided it's time to go down and there he will stay for over 100 days until his cowardly end. A picture of Frederick the Great (an awfully flattering one) is placed on the wall and smoking is not allowed. Everyone is very pre-occupied with the little things, but by this point in history, Hitler had long lost a sense of reality. The first of our friendly bunker denizens to arrive is Albert Speer (an impossibly dashing Richard Jordan), who gets ushered into a meeting where Hitler is listening to a report from his generals that contains very little truth, because they know he can't handle it.
Speer and Hitler meet privately, where Hitler is clearly out of his gourd. He indeed wants Germany destroyed so the enemies can't get to it. Speer notes that it would bring Germany "back to the Middle Ages," which gets a smile from Hitler, who also says that any German who doesn't survive isn't a good German. "The good ones will have already died," he says plainly. Speer is dumbfounded, but formulates a plan to gas the bunker (how's that for irony?) in order to spare Germany from Hitler's madness, well, what hasn't been destroyed already.
It doesn't take too long for Hitler to have one of his infamous tirades, ripping into his generals, who seem to barely notice, having been through it before. Anthony Hopkins not only performs the tirade as written, but his whole body gets into the act. Not once during the meeting with the generals does he actually look anyone directly in the eye and his body languages suggests a confused old man.
Get used to the arguments between Speer and Hitler. Speer is the one voice in the chorus who doesn't agree with the destruction of Germany just for the sake of it, but Hitler is insistent. His hands constantly shaking and his legs barely shuffling, Hitler interrupts the conversation to present Speer with a birthday present, his photograph, and then returns to his orders to raze Germany. Speer decides to give up assassination attempts, but he also decides not to follow Hitler's orders. He's going to have to battle Martin Bormann (Michael Lonsdale), who has it out for Speer and is hell bent on doing anything Hitler says.
After Hitler's beloved dog gives birth, Hitler hauls Speer in for yet another two-way discussion where he lists every war Germany has survived since the Romans. Hitler knows Speer has disobeyed his orders to have Germany destroyed, and graciously offers to have his longtime friend on leave, which Speer refuses. Speer is blunt: "the war is lost." Hitler is fiery: "I will destroy the pestilence of Jewish Marxism...I will defeat them all! I will defy the entire world!" Hitler asks for Speer to have faith in him and his life will be spared, but Speer again sticks to the truth, and then there is some very good writing, a moment that makes us wonder if perhaps Hitler has a tiny grasp on reality still. "Can you at least HOPE that the world is not lost? Surely you must be able to HOPE, Speer. That will be enough to satisfy me," he says, almost trying to convince himself, and gives Speer 24 hours to think it over.
Speer decides to play Hitler's game and tell him what he wants to hear, but his plan is that the destruction operation will never happen, tying it up in red tape.
Also not playing in the sandbox of mental health is Joseph Goebbels (played by Cliff Gorman with the strangest and most annoying American accent). Eyebrows ablaze, Goebbels delights in the news of Roosevelt's death and probably believes his own propaganda that the war is being won.
Into the bunker sweeps Eva Braun (miniseries regular Susan Blakely, whose salary is probably only a fraction of Hopkins' and therefore plays it like she knows she got a raw deal), portrayed here as a daffy dame who brings all of her clothes and furs because she wants to be pretty for Hitler. She's not the only woman in the bunker. There is cook Constanze Manziarly (Pam St. Clement), who is rabidly devoted to Hitler and who has the movie's second time-wasting flashback as she readies candles for Hitler's birthday cake.
The whole gang shows up for the birthday party, bombs bursting outside. Bormann is worried that Hitler isn't strong enough to greet the throngs. Himmler voices secret doubts and even thinks of negotiating peace, though he's still delighting in his concentration camp plans. Hitler fakes his way through an acceptance speech, minimizing his frailty and sticking to the crap about fighting until the end and not being defeated. He spits out, "we shall not be defeated" like a stuck record and then mingles.
Given the news that Berlin is closed on three sides, Hitler orders a huge offensive, and anyone who doesn't obey is to be killed. "He's having enough trouble retreating," his officers snarl to each other about the general who is given this task. Hitler leaves the bunker to greet the Hitler Youth, now drafted into being actual soldiers as there are no adult men left. Human Hitler shines through just a tad as he tells one boy he wishes his generals were as brave as the young.
Quiz time. What element has been missing so far? Like I even have to ask! A slumming movie star, of course! This time, it's Piper Laurie, playing Magda Goebbels, given "guest star" billing. She enters halfway through when her hubby calls and tells her to bring their gaggle to the bunker. Bormann takes the opposite attitude, sending his wife and children away with a cover story about refugee children as he fondles his secretary's hand. Hitler's loyal doctor is sent away, but two secretaries ask his permission personally to be allowed to stay. The denizens of the bunker are finally assembled, all aboard who's going aboard, hunkering down on Berlin's own Titanic below the ground. Gathering the whole staff, Hitler nearly collapses in a screaming fit about staying in Berlin and dying in Berlin, blaming everyone else, but actually admitting, haltingly, that the war is lost.
Yeah, he says that, but soon enough he's spouting gibberish and ordering armies this way and that. One general, who was caught trying to flee, is killed in the bunker, his body left dangling from the ceiling as Hitler reads stories to the Goebbels brood. Things are so bad that the guards on duty have either fled or are upstairs partying with some drunk women.
Speer shows up to say ta-ta, and Bormann wants him to speak to Hitler about leaving the bunker and hightailing it to his aerie home in the country. The Hitler he encounters is completely broken, seeming to go downhill by the minute. Hitler rambles about the plans they once made for a glittering expensive Germany, "what might have been," he admits. Hitler wants to know Speer's opinion on whether he should flee or not, and Speer tells him the leader of the German people should die in Berlin. Hitler has, of course, already decided that, because he knows if he leaves, he may fall into the hands of his captors. Instead he wants to be cremated, so he's "free of everything," as he says, in a moment of wistfulness. Speer bravely admits he has been lying to Hitler, but Hitler is too far gone to comprehend and sends Speer off to bid adieu to Eva, who is in her room, dressed up, hair done and dancing to a peppy record with a bottle of champagne on hand. Blakely plays this scene with a smile plastered on her face, overdoing the innocence routine, at one point even asking, "why did so many people have to be killed?" Has she NOT been living with Hitler through the entire war?
As Speer is on the way out, he runs into Magda, made up to look like a million bucks (Magda Goebbels should have been so lucky). Speer wants to help her leave, but she says, "our lives have no further meaning without the Fuhrer," and she intends to die, along with her children, with the big boss.
Goring has informed Von Ribbentrop that Hitler has gone 'round the bend and he has assumed all of his offices. Bormann tells Hitler it's an act of treason, hoping for a tirade that will end in Goring's head, but Hitler is oddly peaceful. "He's a drug addict," Hitler says and shuffles out of the room. Speer tries to say goodbye, but Hitler's mind is too gone to comprehend and Speer never gets his tender farewell.
To hammer in the fact that this bunker is filled with only nutcases, the women have "afternoon tea and crumpets," chattering about the past, but Hitler is off in a world of his own, croaking about Vienna. Eva will have none of that. She wants to talk of flowers and pretty things...and their impending marriage! Some poor soul is found who can perform the ceremony, rather hysterically saying that all documents are in order. Both promise they are of pure Aryan blood and then can sign the marriage document. Or try, at least, because Hitler's hands shake so badly at this point his signature looks like that of a preschooler. Eva, makes it worse by dashing off a pretty signature at top speed at the same time.
There's a party in full bloom, but Hitler sequesters himself with a secretary and dictates his famous last letter. He blames the Jews, he fires Goring and Himmler and then decides he wants to stay alive until May 5, the date of Napoleon's death. I'm sure the ghost of Napoleon was thrilled.
Goebbels takes it all a step further by throwing himself a party (with his New York accent intact), even summoning dying soldiers to attend. His job as propaganda minister is never finished, so he takes the opportunity to blame the Jews again. He offers the wounded soldiers gratitude and they play along, the sum total of their ages being about 27 and not knowing any better.
It's not a good month to be a world leader. First Roosevelt dies and now Hitler gets the news that Mussolini has been killed. Hitler is unmoved, instead asking his doctor for the cyanide tablets he ordered. They are untested, so he has them fed to the poor dog. They work. Who will take care of the puppies? No one, since the doctor orders them killed too. Geez, the Nazis are puppy killers too?
Eva and Magda hug and Magda knows God will forgive her for doing in her own children. Eva then gets dolled up so she and Hitler can say goodbye to everyone in history's grimmest receiving line. Hitler bequests the painting of Frederick the Great and locks himself in with Eva, who gets comfy on the sofa and removes her shoes.
Hitler and the Mrs. each take their tablet and then Hitler shoots himself in the head, too much of a coward to even wait for the pill to kick in! The staff takes their bodies out of the bunker where they are doused in gasoline and burned. Persniketty little creep Goebbels looks weirdly proud watching the bodies go up in flames.
Magda tells the kids they are flying to the country the next day, but wants them to get a good night's sleep with a special piece of chocolate. She puts on a ravishing gown and collects the kids from playing, taking time to brush their hair and get them all pretty. The staff members are horrified, but bushy-browed Goebbels is only worried that the bodies of Adolf and Eva are charred beyond recognition (or perhaps on the way to Argentina). Goebbels then delivers a monologue in a voice that evokes a tough in an Arthur Miller play. I'm sorry, couldn't he even TRY to go a bit German? None of the other cast members are German, but they attempt accents. After killing the kids, Medea...sorry, Magda has one last cigarette. Her husband prattles on and on and on, also with a cigarette (geez, they didn't wait ten minutes for Hitler to be gone before they lifted the ban on smoking). She sits down to play solitaire and he puts on his flashy leather coat. The Hitlers didn't make nearly as much of offing themselves as these two melodramatic hams. He even chirps to the staff, "at least you won't have to carry our bodies up the stairs," as he and his wife do themselves in outside of the bunker. What a guy!
The secretaries dot their faces with make-up to feign small pox so as not to be raped by the Russian soldiers and everyone leaves. The poor overworked engineer is the last one remaining, clutching a pretty flower and turning on music, interrupted on the radio by news that Hitler has died "fighting in Berlin."
The voice of James Naughton returns to tell us what happened to everyone in the bunker. Most were captured by the Russians, except for Bormann, who killed himself.
Too long by at least half an hour, "The Bunker" is actually very well done. Anthony Hopkins' Hitler is remarkably done, emphasizing the dying man, physically and mentall undone, rather than the irate lunatic. It's not exactly a touching performance, but why should it be? He's playing Hitler after all!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Users (1978)
Here's a miniseries so bad even the laughter it evokes from being stupid end after a while and leave us with a whole bunch of hammy actors running around Hollywood with seemingly no purpose. With a title like "The Users," and a story set in Hollywood, all one can do is sit back and watch the cliches arrive, one after another.
We start on a movie set where start Tony Curtis is having a hissy fit because his scene is not working. In a tank top, jeans and a cowboy hat, Tony already looks past his prime, but he's the leading man. Producer George Hamilton is more patient than the director, calling a wrap for the day. George heads off to his trailer to call agent Red Buttons, relaxing in the hot tub with two women, because he wants the galleys of an upcoming book. Before hanging up, George tells Red to get out of the hot tub. "You can't afford to shrink." "Jealous?" Red answers?
Listening to this whole conversation is Jaclyn Smith, a hooker who charges $100 per night. Hey, it's Arizona. George wants to hire her for a night with Tony Curtis, but doesn't want Tony to know she's a working girl. Apparently, Tony needs a confidence boost because he hasn't had a movie in seven years, since his wife died, and this comeback is his last chance.
Pause.
Okay, including the title sequence, we're about 10 minutes into the movie. Already, we have Tony Curtis as an over-the-hill leading man (true enough), George Hamilton as a slimy producer (drop producer, true enough), Red Buttons as a lusty agent and Jaclyn Smith as a hooker. In a movie about Hollywood produced by Dominick Dunne. Is the smell of delicious cheese as pungent for you as it is for me? "The Users" is going to be mind-melting fun...I can't wait!
Jacklyn, looking so young and dewy, plays her part with Tony at George's party that night. Hooker or not, she's well-read when it comes to Tony and his career. "Do you want me to name every picture you've ever made in chronological order?" she asks. "Don't, please don't." He's hooked. Tony kicks everyone out so he can be alone with Jaclyn. Tony's pillow talk is all about his worries in doing the next day's love scene, but of course Jaclyn is fixing that.
The next morning, Jaclyn returns the money to George Hamilton. She says Tony was able to "perform," and he doesn't understand why he's getting a refund. "You'll see," she says with a knowing glint. Tony repeats the scene from the day before (in a different costume) and with Jaclyn watching, he pulls it off spectacularly. Even he's excited by how well he did, and he attributes it to her, but now he's worried about what he'll do when he shoots the rest in Hollywood without her. He wants her to go with him, but as what? "Agent? Cook? Housekeeper? Companion? Lover?" "How about all of them?" She says she'll get back to him.
Care to know why Jaclyn leads the lifestyle she does in Arizona? She has a sick mother. Well, of course she does! Mom knows all about Jaclyn's evening activities, and she also takes the blame for ruining her life, having to resort to prostitution to pay the bills. She wants Jaclyn to go to Hollywood with Tony, making her promise one thing: "When you get there, let 'em KNOW you're there."
Jaclyn and her one bag (to Tony's huge haul of luggage) arrive at Tony's Hollywood mansion. On the piano are glossy shots of Garland, Sinatra and others, as well as Tony's daughter, Michelle Phillips, also an actress, who has a checkered past with dad. Tony offers a tour, but Jaclyn wants to see "the most important room" and he carries her up to the bedroom.
Michelle, in fact, shows up in the very next scene and as soon as she walks through the door, she tells Jaclyn she knows she's "special." How? Is there some particular way she opened the door with a dish rag over her shoulder that speaks of genius? The two chat over wine and Jaclyn says she loves Tony. Michelle looks like she's ready to pounce at that, but instead says, "I think you mean that" and then begs Jaclyn to get Tony "back on the scene." The two are instant chums, though there's something strangely manipulative in Michelle.
Jaclyn and Michelle have lunch at one of the "really in places," where Michelle has to get past lecherous Red Buttons before finding her table. Jaclyn is curious to know why all of the glamour doesn't matter to Michelle. She's been "hustled" too many times. However, she is in love, but with a married man whose wife has the money. They then go on a jaunt to Rodeo Drive, where they bump into George Hamilton and his wife, Carrie Nye. It's an uncomfortable moment for all, though Michelle pulls them through, buys Jaclyn a gold necklace and treats her to a spa day. It's here that Jaclyn tells Michelle the truth about how she and Tony met (and of course that she gave the money back). And here's the kicker: Tony didn't need to get it up, he just needed someone to talk to. So, we officially cannot have any bad feelings towards Jaclyn because they just talked and she gave back the money, so the love is real. Isn't that a neat little package?
Into the restful spa sweeps Joan Fontaine, a Hollywood stalwart who gets paid to make sure people are seen in the right places. We need a slumming legend (more slumming than Red Buttons), and she fits the bill, a little older, a little heavier, but having a grand time as the mile-a-minute gabber (her sister would take more dignified miniseries roles: the Queen Mother, Grand Duchess Marie of Russia and Wallis Simpson's Aunt Bessie and keep the camp to a minimum--Joan isn't holding back). Jaclyn decides she will use Joan's help to get herself known. After the girls day out, Michelle reminds Jaclyn that if the picture is a bomb, she's in for something "pretty stormy." "I've been rained on before," Jaclyn retorts.
Tony is getting a massage from Michael Baseleon, who offers to do Jaclyn next. Jaclyn wants some gossip from him, and she sure as hell gets it. He has a looser tongue than an toothless Alabama grandmother. He tells her that the frost between Michelle and Carrie is due to the fact that Michelle's boyfriend is...you guessed it...George Hamilton! "We all use each other," he tells her and Jaclyn grabs at it. She wants him to spread the word that she and Tony are "terribly happy." It's true, but she wants to make sure everyone knows it.
Having learned amazingly fast, Jaclyn has already arranged a lunch for Tony with Joan, so he can be seen. She intends to make sure this picture is a hit. Jaclyn has all sorts of plans for her life with Tony, but he asks just to sit quietly for five minutes...and they do! They literally sit for five wasted minutes of screen time. And then he opines that they should get married that night. And they do! On their wedding night, he says he doesn't care that she was a hooker because everyone is a hooker, "some more, some less, including me." "You know what that makes us? The perfect couple!" With dialogue like this, how can you not keep watching?
Jaclyn goes to a pool party at Joan Fontaine's. Before they even start, Joan quotes her fee of $500 a week, which Jaclyn can't afford, but Joan is willing to wait because "putting a hooker in the A group, it's my dream come true!" Joan has a whole plan, from redoing her house to redoing her wardrobe. One scheme is to take dresses from stores on approval and get a studio dressmaker to do exact copies, returning the original. This is an insider's guide to Hollywood? They do that in Little Rock!
They can't keep us in suspense any longer. Are you dying to know how fabulously successful Tony's comeback movie is? I know I am (well, not really, but I'll give it the benefit of the doubt). It's screened for the executives and it's a big wonderful spectacular...bomb. The head of the studio wants 30 minutes chopped off. To make it worse, said exec tells the director and producer he wants to work with them again, "just bring me a hot star." Oh, man, let's home that doesn't leak out to Tony (the character...oh, wait, and the actor himself, he did have a jolly big ego), because it will take every trick Jaclyn is learning to pull him out of that hole.
There's a crushingly boring scene where Jaclyn visits Michelle at her pool, where Michelle holds court in a shirt and heels. They discuss the reason why George wants Michelle when he has Carrie. "My talents," she says and we know what she's talking about. Jaclyn then says she wants the book George wanted as a vehicle for Tony.
Carrie and George throw a party for Tony. Michelle has her boy toy with her. When Tony asks, "what do you do?" the boy toy says, "I tan." He, at least he's honest. Dumb, but honest. Jaclyn oozes around the room. She starts with George, making sure he keeps her secret and she will keep his about Michelle. Then she moves on to Red Buttons, angling for the book everyone wants ("Rogue's Gallery"). He propositions her with the damn hot tub. "I could help you turn the pages," he says to Jaclyn when she says she might like it as much as reading the book.
John Forsythe is there, sizing up Jaclyn as a mover in an instant, and she tries to get the dirt on him from Joan. Oh, and for comic value, Judy Landers is there, as a character named Merry. Her presence makes this scene an instant rip-off of the party scene in "All About Eve" and she's Miss Caswell. It all ends badly the studio head tells Tony the picture is terrible. We've been told about 14 times that he'll react extremely poorly if the movie is not a hit. Well, bring it on!
He goes to a nightclub where men seem to be the only denizens and Douglas Warner slithers over to him immediately, telling him he's a writer and has the perfect screenplay for Tony. Naturally, the script is back at Douglas' apartment. Sooooooo, when Tony is upset he goes gay? That's the big secret? It's not like he tries to kill himself or someone else or blow up The Brown Derby or steal Chasen's chili from Elizabeth Taylor's plate!
At least this "twist" temporarily woke up a movie in danger of putting itself to sleep.
Jaclyn goes to Red's hot tub, which I hope has been cleaned for all he talks about it. She wants to know how much the book will cost. After toying with her for a while, he says he's already sold the movie rights to John Forsythe. Cue Joan Fontaine, who shows up to distract Red while Jaclyn sneaks a copy of the book out of Red's office. Damn, she's good! Smartest Arizona hooker this side of...well, all the other Arizona hookers. As if the movie couldn't be ANY more obvious, Jaclyn comes home to find a party invitation at John's.
Racing up the stairs to tell Tony all about what she's pulled off, she finds him with Douglas. "If you put this scene in a movie, no one would believe it," Douglas wryly notes. Even worse, Jaclyn tells him he could have told her and she would have understood. If that were the case, dear friends, wouldn't she have stayed instead of flying out the door at top speed?
When she returns home, she finds out that Tony has tried to kill himself (and if you want the laugh of a lifetime, wait until you see him trying to pour from a teapot with bandaged wrists). He would have succeeded if the masseur hadn't come for his usual appointment.
Off to John's party they go. The theme is the gardens at Versailles. Huh? John pegs Jaclyn's earrings as on approval. Party scene, take two. Jaclyn looks radiant in a fur huge gown. Red asks her how she likes the galleys of the book. "The only galleys are on boats," she retorts. Everyone is there, Joan for fun and even Tony's little boyfriend, there with a producer now. Jaclyn hides out in a room where she knows John will find her, and he does. She gets down to business quickly, mentioning Tony would be perfect for the lead in "Rogue's Gallery." He knows her past and is astounded she's not ashamed. "After a few months in this town, I'm rather proud of it," she quips. John plays crystal ball and tells her that even if Tony makes a comeback in "Rogue's Gallery" she'll still need to prop him up again and again because she lacks money. Hmmm, she's gotten this far without it. John basically wants her for himself, but not as a lover. "Power and romance rarely mix," she tells her. "We all exist to be used," he tells her, as the cliche parade that is called a scene here churns on. Both of these pros play it with eyebrows raised and bland sincerity. Jaclyn wants the "Rogue's Gallery" author to come to dinner and that means owing John a favor and she doesn't mind that and the dip at the party is made with too much milk and everyone gets sick and the house falls off the hill and disaster ensues and California slides into the ocean. Okay, okay, noting beyond "she doesn't mind" happens, but I wish it did because damn, it's getting so dull!
Michelle and George steal a few minutes together to plan stealing a few minutes together. If they fling one more double entendre at each other, someone is going to end up with a broken nose. They agree to meet in the sauna, which has a lock on the door from the outside, always trouble. Carrie follows her cheating husband and confronts them half dressed. She lowers the boom that the only way George can produce the film is if Michelle agrees to star in it. More users, we get it.
From that party, we go right to the party Jaclyn throws for the author of "Rogue's Gallery," who has casting approval. Did they simply change the sets around the actors? That might have been cheaper than moving the actors to a new set. But, the plans are foiled when the author shows up, or seemingly so. John, suddenly gone stupid, tells Jaclyn where the author is without realizing it (everything but the number of the bungalow in Santa Barbara) and she hightails it over there, leaving her own party.
The author who has been at the center of this whole story is Darren McGavin, entering nearly two hours into the movie. "You wouldn't come to my party, so I decided to come to yours." "There's no party here," he says." "Not yet," says the ex-hooker as she pours herself a bourbon to impress him. I hope in quoting these lines, the four-year-old who wrote them get some pleasure out of hearing them again. Jaclyn thinks her best weapon his honesty and admits her past, which also impresses Darren. Darren swears that he never gets drunk, no matter how many he has. Jaclyn bets him that he can get drunk, going drink for drink with him, and then can't actually "perform." The stakes in the bet? She wants the role for her husband and if he wins..."neither one of us loses." That hardly seems fair. Tony gets a movie role and Darren gets a few minutes in the sack with a pro?
As you would expect, because he's a human being Darren actually does pass out, losing the bet. She sweeps out once he wakes up, snatching her fur and telling him her husband will be wonderful in the movie. When she arrives at home, Tony is cheery because the party went so well. He doesn't seem to mind that she was out all night. When she tells him that she's secured him the lead in "Rogue's Gallery," Tony shows the most emotion he has so far. He's excited and then curious as to how she worked it out, but she doesn't tell him. In fact, she tells him it's "goodbye." Her speech about parting is awfully confusing. Something about both of them having what they want, no regrets, best time of their lives coming. I can't say I quite understood it. He has his part and she's going "where I belong." That would be John Forsythe's bigger mansion, of course.
It's Oscar time! "Rogue's Gallery" is a gigantic hit and both Tony and Michelle are nominated. They arrive together and the crowd of extras jump up and down so hard they must have been fed sugar pills. Tony and Jaclyn meet on the red carpet and neither is upset. "Did I ever say thanks?" Tony asks and confesses his love for her. John and Jaclyn are interviewed by Army Archerd, perplexing because John is only the movie's executive producer and when was the last time you saw one of those interviewed? Army asks Jaclyn if she's proud and she says, "you know, I'm not actually in the business." Freeze, cut and print.
Help me out here: is the movie titled "The Users" because of the characters and their actions or because it uses plots from so many other movies ("All About Eve, "Sunset Boulevard," "A Star is Born," you name a Hollywood-based movie and "The Users" finds a way to rip it off)? Watching Jaclyn Smith play a bad girl is kind of neat, but she's so damn wholesome that she's not fully successful. All of the other wax figures just say their lines and collect checks, except for Joan Fontaine, who, by that point in her career, had nothing to lose.
We start on a movie set where start Tony Curtis is having a hissy fit because his scene is not working. In a tank top, jeans and a cowboy hat, Tony already looks past his prime, but he's the leading man. Producer George Hamilton is more patient than the director, calling a wrap for the day. George heads off to his trailer to call agent Red Buttons, relaxing in the hot tub with two women, because he wants the galleys of an upcoming book. Before hanging up, George tells Red to get out of the hot tub. "You can't afford to shrink." "Jealous?" Red answers?
Listening to this whole conversation is Jaclyn Smith, a hooker who charges $100 per night. Hey, it's Arizona. George wants to hire her for a night with Tony Curtis, but doesn't want Tony to know she's a working girl. Apparently, Tony needs a confidence boost because he hasn't had a movie in seven years, since his wife died, and this comeback is his last chance.
Pause.
Okay, including the title sequence, we're about 10 minutes into the movie. Already, we have Tony Curtis as an over-the-hill leading man (true enough), George Hamilton as a slimy producer (drop producer, true enough), Red Buttons as a lusty agent and Jaclyn Smith as a hooker. In a movie about Hollywood produced by Dominick Dunne. Is the smell of delicious cheese as pungent for you as it is for me? "The Users" is going to be mind-melting fun...I can't wait!
Jacklyn, looking so young and dewy, plays her part with Tony at George's party that night. Hooker or not, she's well-read when it comes to Tony and his career. "Do you want me to name every picture you've ever made in chronological order?" she asks. "Don't, please don't." He's hooked. Tony kicks everyone out so he can be alone with Jaclyn. Tony's pillow talk is all about his worries in doing the next day's love scene, but of course Jaclyn is fixing that.
The next morning, Jaclyn returns the money to George Hamilton. She says Tony was able to "perform," and he doesn't understand why he's getting a refund. "You'll see," she says with a knowing glint. Tony repeats the scene from the day before (in a different costume) and with Jaclyn watching, he pulls it off spectacularly. Even he's excited by how well he did, and he attributes it to her, but now he's worried about what he'll do when he shoots the rest in Hollywood without her. He wants her to go with him, but as what? "Agent? Cook? Housekeeper? Companion? Lover?" "How about all of them?" She says she'll get back to him.
Care to know why Jaclyn leads the lifestyle she does in Arizona? She has a sick mother. Well, of course she does! Mom knows all about Jaclyn's evening activities, and she also takes the blame for ruining her life, having to resort to prostitution to pay the bills. She wants Jaclyn to go to Hollywood with Tony, making her promise one thing: "When you get there, let 'em KNOW you're there."
Jaclyn and her one bag (to Tony's huge haul of luggage) arrive at Tony's Hollywood mansion. On the piano are glossy shots of Garland, Sinatra and others, as well as Tony's daughter, Michelle Phillips, also an actress, who has a checkered past with dad. Tony offers a tour, but Jaclyn wants to see "the most important room" and he carries her up to the bedroom.
Michelle, in fact, shows up in the very next scene and as soon as she walks through the door, she tells Jaclyn she knows she's "special." How? Is there some particular way she opened the door with a dish rag over her shoulder that speaks of genius? The two chat over wine and Jaclyn says she loves Tony. Michelle looks like she's ready to pounce at that, but instead says, "I think you mean that" and then begs Jaclyn to get Tony "back on the scene." The two are instant chums, though there's something strangely manipulative in Michelle.
Jaclyn and Michelle have lunch at one of the "really in places," where Michelle has to get past lecherous Red Buttons before finding her table. Jaclyn is curious to know why all of the glamour doesn't matter to Michelle. She's been "hustled" too many times. However, she is in love, but with a married man whose wife has the money. They then go on a jaunt to Rodeo Drive, where they bump into George Hamilton and his wife, Carrie Nye. It's an uncomfortable moment for all, though Michelle pulls them through, buys Jaclyn a gold necklace and treats her to a spa day. It's here that Jaclyn tells Michelle the truth about how she and Tony met (and of course that she gave the money back). And here's the kicker: Tony didn't need to get it up, he just needed someone to talk to. So, we officially cannot have any bad feelings towards Jaclyn because they just talked and she gave back the money, so the love is real. Isn't that a neat little package?
Into the restful spa sweeps Joan Fontaine, a Hollywood stalwart who gets paid to make sure people are seen in the right places. We need a slumming legend (more slumming than Red Buttons), and she fits the bill, a little older, a little heavier, but having a grand time as the mile-a-minute gabber (her sister would take more dignified miniseries roles: the Queen Mother, Grand Duchess Marie of Russia and Wallis Simpson's Aunt Bessie and keep the camp to a minimum--Joan isn't holding back). Jaclyn decides she will use Joan's help to get herself known. After the girls day out, Michelle reminds Jaclyn that if the picture is a bomb, she's in for something "pretty stormy." "I've been rained on before," Jaclyn retorts.
Tony is getting a massage from Michael Baseleon, who offers to do Jaclyn next. Jaclyn wants some gossip from him, and she sure as hell gets it. He has a looser tongue than an toothless Alabama grandmother. He tells her that the frost between Michelle and Carrie is due to the fact that Michelle's boyfriend is...you guessed it...George Hamilton! "We all use each other," he tells her and Jaclyn grabs at it. She wants him to spread the word that she and Tony are "terribly happy." It's true, but she wants to make sure everyone knows it.
Having learned amazingly fast, Jaclyn has already arranged a lunch for Tony with Joan, so he can be seen. She intends to make sure this picture is a hit. Jaclyn has all sorts of plans for her life with Tony, but he asks just to sit quietly for five minutes...and they do! They literally sit for five wasted minutes of screen time. And then he opines that they should get married that night. And they do! On their wedding night, he says he doesn't care that she was a hooker because everyone is a hooker, "some more, some less, including me." "You know what that makes us? The perfect couple!" With dialogue like this, how can you not keep watching?
Jaclyn goes to a pool party at Joan Fontaine's. Before they even start, Joan quotes her fee of $500 a week, which Jaclyn can't afford, but Joan is willing to wait because "putting a hooker in the A group, it's my dream come true!" Joan has a whole plan, from redoing her house to redoing her wardrobe. One scheme is to take dresses from stores on approval and get a studio dressmaker to do exact copies, returning the original. This is an insider's guide to Hollywood? They do that in Little Rock!
They can't keep us in suspense any longer. Are you dying to know how fabulously successful Tony's comeback movie is? I know I am (well, not really, but I'll give it the benefit of the doubt). It's screened for the executives and it's a big wonderful spectacular...bomb. The head of the studio wants 30 minutes chopped off. To make it worse, said exec tells the director and producer he wants to work with them again, "just bring me a hot star." Oh, man, let's home that doesn't leak out to Tony (the character...oh, wait, and the actor himself, he did have a jolly big ego), because it will take every trick Jaclyn is learning to pull him out of that hole.
There's a crushingly boring scene where Jaclyn visits Michelle at her pool, where Michelle holds court in a shirt and heels. They discuss the reason why George wants Michelle when he has Carrie. "My talents," she says and we know what she's talking about. Jaclyn then says she wants the book George wanted as a vehicle for Tony.
Carrie and George throw a party for Tony. Michelle has her boy toy with her. When Tony asks, "what do you do?" the boy toy says, "I tan." He, at least he's honest. Dumb, but honest. Jaclyn oozes around the room. She starts with George, making sure he keeps her secret and she will keep his about Michelle. Then she moves on to Red Buttons, angling for the book everyone wants ("Rogue's Gallery"). He propositions her with the damn hot tub. "I could help you turn the pages," he says to Jaclyn when she says she might like it as much as reading the book.
John Forsythe is there, sizing up Jaclyn as a mover in an instant, and she tries to get the dirt on him from Joan. Oh, and for comic value, Judy Landers is there, as a character named Merry. Her presence makes this scene an instant rip-off of the party scene in "All About Eve" and she's Miss Caswell. It all ends badly the studio head tells Tony the picture is terrible. We've been told about 14 times that he'll react extremely poorly if the movie is not a hit. Well, bring it on!
He goes to a nightclub where men seem to be the only denizens and Douglas Warner slithers over to him immediately, telling him he's a writer and has the perfect screenplay for Tony. Naturally, the script is back at Douglas' apartment. Sooooooo, when Tony is upset he goes gay? That's the big secret? It's not like he tries to kill himself or someone else or blow up The Brown Derby or steal Chasen's chili from Elizabeth Taylor's plate!
At least this "twist" temporarily woke up a movie in danger of putting itself to sleep.
Jaclyn goes to Red's hot tub, which I hope has been cleaned for all he talks about it. She wants to know how much the book will cost. After toying with her for a while, he says he's already sold the movie rights to John Forsythe. Cue Joan Fontaine, who shows up to distract Red while Jaclyn sneaks a copy of the book out of Red's office. Damn, she's good! Smartest Arizona hooker this side of...well, all the other Arizona hookers. As if the movie couldn't be ANY more obvious, Jaclyn comes home to find a party invitation at John's.
Racing up the stairs to tell Tony all about what she's pulled off, she finds him with Douglas. "If you put this scene in a movie, no one would believe it," Douglas wryly notes. Even worse, Jaclyn tells him he could have told her and she would have understood. If that were the case, dear friends, wouldn't she have stayed instead of flying out the door at top speed?
When she returns home, she finds out that Tony has tried to kill himself (and if you want the laugh of a lifetime, wait until you see him trying to pour from a teapot with bandaged wrists). He would have succeeded if the masseur hadn't come for his usual appointment.
Off to John's party they go. The theme is the gardens at Versailles. Huh? John pegs Jaclyn's earrings as on approval. Party scene, take two. Jaclyn looks radiant in a fur huge gown. Red asks her how she likes the galleys of the book. "The only galleys are on boats," she retorts. Everyone is there, Joan for fun and even Tony's little boyfriend, there with a producer now. Jaclyn hides out in a room where she knows John will find her, and he does. She gets down to business quickly, mentioning Tony would be perfect for the lead in "Rogue's Gallery." He knows her past and is astounded she's not ashamed. "After a few months in this town, I'm rather proud of it," she quips. John plays crystal ball and tells her that even if Tony makes a comeback in "Rogue's Gallery" she'll still need to prop him up again and again because she lacks money. Hmmm, she's gotten this far without it. John basically wants her for himself, but not as a lover. "Power and romance rarely mix," she tells her. "We all exist to be used," he tells her, as the cliche parade that is called a scene here churns on. Both of these pros play it with eyebrows raised and bland sincerity. Jaclyn wants the "Rogue's Gallery" author to come to dinner and that means owing John a favor and she doesn't mind that and the dip at the party is made with too much milk and everyone gets sick and the house falls off the hill and disaster ensues and California slides into the ocean. Okay, okay, noting beyond "she doesn't mind" happens, but I wish it did because damn, it's getting so dull!
Michelle and George steal a few minutes together to plan stealing a few minutes together. If they fling one more double entendre at each other, someone is going to end up with a broken nose. They agree to meet in the sauna, which has a lock on the door from the outside, always trouble. Carrie follows her cheating husband and confronts them half dressed. She lowers the boom that the only way George can produce the film is if Michelle agrees to star in it. More users, we get it.
From that party, we go right to the party Jaclyn throws for the author of "Rogue's Gallery," who has casting approval. Did they simply change the sets around the actors? That might have been cheaper than moving the actors to a new set. But, the plans are foiled when the author shows up, or seemingly so. John, suddenly gone stupid, tells Jaclyn where the author is without realizing it (everything but the number of the bungalow in Santa Barbara) and she hightails it over there, leaving her own party.
The author who has been at the center of this whole story is Darren McGavin, entering nearly two hours into the movie. "You wouldn't come to my party, so I decided to come to yours." "There's no party here," he says." "Not yet," says the ex-hooker as she pours herself a bourbon to impress him. I hope in quoting these lines, the four-year-old who wrote them get some pleasure out of hearing them again. Jaclyn thinks her best weapon his honesty and admits her past, which also impresses Darren. Darren swears that he never gets drunk, no matter how many he has. Jaclyn bets him that he can get drunk, going drink for drink with him, and then can't actually "perform." The stakes in the bet? She wants the role for her husband and if he wins..."neither one of us loses." That hardly seems fair. Tony gets a movie role and Darren gets a few minutes in the sack with a pro?
As you would expect, because he's a human being Darren actually does pass out, losing the bet. She sweeps out once he wakes up, snatching her fur and telling him her husband will be wonderful in the movie. When she arrives at home, Tony is cheery because the party went so well. He doesn't seem to mind that she was out all night. When she tells him that she's secured him the lead in "Rogue's Gallery," Tony shows the most emotion he has so far. He's excited and then curious as to how she worked it out, but she doesn't tell him. In fact, she tells him it's "goodbye." Her speech about parting is awfully confusing. Something about both of them having what they want, no regrets, best time of their lives coming. I can't say I quite understood it. He has his part and she's going "where I belong." That would be John Forsythe's bigger mansion, of course.
It's Oscar time! "Rogue's Gallery" is a gigantic hit and both Tony and Michelle are nominated. They arrive together and the crowd of extras jump up and down so hard they must have been fed sugar pills. Tony and Jaclyn meet on the red carpet and neither is upset. "Did I ever say thanks?" Tony asks and confesses his love for her. John and Jaclyn are interviewed by Army Archerd, perplexing because John is only the movie's executive producer and when was the last time you saw one of those interviewed? Army asks Jaclyn if she's proud and she says, "you know, I'm not actually in the business." Freeze, cut and print.
Help me out here: is the movie titled "The Users" because of the characters and their actions or because it uses plots from so many other movies ("All About Eve, "Sunset Boulevard," "A Star is Born," you name a Hollywood-based movie and "The Users" finds a way to rip it off)? Watching Jaclyn Smith play a bad girl is kind of neat, but she's so damn wholesome that she's not fully successful. All of the other wax figures just say their lines and collect checks, except for Joan Fontaine, who, by that point in her career, had nothing to lose.
Guyana Tragedy: The Story of Jim Jones (1980)
In the history of American cults, Jim Jones and the People's Temple tragedy are unlikely ever to be forgotten, despite the decades that have passed since everyone drank the Kool-Aid. The true story is so outlandish that it's ideal for a screen representation. The atrocities speak for themselves, but one thing made Guyana stand out above all else: Jim Jones. A maniac, insane, drug-addicted, power-mad egotist, Jim Jones was so forceful a personality that he duped thousands. However, in order for this to work as a miniseries, it needs a strong leading man, a problem because, especially in the later years, Jim would merely sit on his throne and bark orders into a microphone, dynamism be damned. Luckily, Powers Boothe is on hand (in an Emmy-winning performance) to all but channel Jim Jones. His performance is what makes this movie so fascinating. If not for him, he would almost seem like fiction, and bland fiction at that. The writing is merely functional, but the characterization of Jim Jones so strong, it off-sets any problems. Let's face it, cults themselves are all about brainwashing, which in itself is not inherently dramatic as its too internal and psychological, but a pill-popping sex fiend who thinks he is God IS the stuff to propel a miniseries.
True to genre form, the film starts at the end, with Jim Jones telling everyone to drink the juice as he's shot, the "enemy" on the approach.
PSYCH! It was a "loyalty test." No one has been shot and the juice is just juice. But, it proves how much of a hold Jim Jones (Powers Boothe) has over his followers. It's close to the end in 1978 and Representative Leo Ryan (Ned Beatty) is on his way to Guyana to ascertain exactly what's happening down in Guyana.
Even as a 10-year old child in 1941, Jim was a bully and a religious zealot. He's in charge of leading the funeral for a pet, with only other children watching. His sermon goes on so long that the other kids get fidgety, but he's not afraid to smack them with a stick to keep them in line. Toting around a Bible, he tells other kids they are going to hell. The only voice of reason against Jim's fundamentalism is his father, Jim Jones, Sr. (Ed Lauter), who tells him all he's going to get for egging on the other kids is a beating. Mama Lynette (Diane Ladd) is more practical, wanting her lazy husband to go back to work. Jim's only solace is with Mrs. Kennedy (Colleen Dewhurst), the woman responsible for teaching Jim her version of the Good Book. "Get out of my way, you Psalm-singin' little creep," Jim Sr. tells the boy as his mother plots their escape.
Eight years later, Jim is fully grown (and ready to be played for maximum bang by Powers Boothe). Working at a hospital, he meets Marcy (Veronica Cartwright), a nurse. I don't know that his tactic is exactly foolproof, because he spews more religion than love, but she's hooked.
Jim has a way of turning even the best moments into religious lunacy. He's getting a hair cut when a black child walks in for one. The owner refuses to cut his hair and Jim is furious. Okay, so far, so good, he's not racist. But, he blows it by then damning the owner to hell and spouting off.
He marries Marcy and then is invited to run a church where membership is dwindling. At first, he's depressed at the lack of turnout, but he is hell bent on getting youth involved in the church. He even goes after the town's prostitutes, and it works. Hooker Rosalind Cash believes in him instantly and wants to go to church, but she worries about how the others will look at her. He tells her to come anyway and she remains fiercely loyal to him, staying all the way through the end in Guyana. Depressed pet shop owner Randy Quaid decides to come to church just to see how the whites will react to the blacks, but at least he's there. . The church elders aren't thrilled with the mixing and goons even throw a dead dog through the window. He's fired by the bigots, and decides never again to work for a church with "small minded me with no vision!"
So, he does what any preacher without a church would do--he goes to the ghetto and starts praying on the rubble. He finds an abandoned synagogue and turns it into "The People's Temple." Again, so far, so good. He's a bit nutsy in his religious fervor, but he wants people of all shapes, sizes and colors. His specialty is ministering to the so-called lost puppies, overwhelming them with kindness and earning their undying (oops, bad word choice) loyalty.
As Jim struggles to make a go of it, he visits Father Divine (James Earl Jones), who may actually believe he's God. He asks Father Divine what to do about the feelings he's having for some of the female parishioners. Basically, celebrate it and help them bring it out. "Mary wasn't a virgin," Father Divine notes.
A medley of all the good Jim does wanders a breakneck speed as a hymn is sung. The man sure as hell seems a saint at this point, ministering to the poor and downtrodden, worried about each and every parishioner with such passion. Heck, even I could forgive some overzealous behavior since he's doing so well. His wife tells him to delegate and his response is, "does God delegate?" Ah, that seems like a crack in the plaster. Does he think he's God now? He brings some old-time tent revival shenanigans to his services, healing the sick, though they are actually just his loyal friends in disguise. Starting to believe he's God, he feels he has the right to sleep around. When is wife sees him with a young girl, he says he "has to be all things to be all people." That's a nice excuse that covers just about anything possible. It's an all-encompassing tent of free space for him to do whatever the hell he wants. It seems that any young woman who walks into a room where he's sitting ends up having sex with him.
Jim is named to the city's Human Rights Commission, which gives him the power force the mixing of the races, such as a cute scene where Jim rams his whole congregation into a movie theater flashing his credentials and cash.
He takes in a drug addict to prove he can cure him by holding him in the bed, where it looks a little more touchy-feely than doctor/patient. He also starts to use drugs himself. Hidden behind sunglasses most of the time, Jim has officially turned the corner on the way to Nutsville.
By 1965, things are booming at The People's Temple so much that they can move into fancier digs and Randy Quaid can propose to and marry Meg Foster. Randy is unusually sanguine about Jim's role in his wife's life. He's simply willing to accept it. As for where all the money is coming from, it's from the members. All of the senior citizens sign over their welfare checks or anything else they have.
After having saved Brad Dourif from a life of drugs, Jim makes the moves on his girlfriend Diana Scarwid in the forest using some honey-coated phrases that prove only that he's horny. He also still has Brad in his bed and under his thrall. This last fact has Diana being one of the first to question Jim's methods. "He has special needs," Brad says, after Rosalind tells her sins in the Bible don't apply to people like Jim who is spreading a special message (his sperm, mostly, because the rest of the message is getting increasingly muddled). Diana convinces Brad to escape with her, but Jim finds them. "I saved him and I will not lose him to you, to drugs or to anything else," Jim declares. There is one too many of the letter I in that sentence and not enough about religion. Jim insists that Diana stay in the room while he and Brad get it on.
His speeches are also more about himself than anything. "It wasn't God that brought you here," he tells a packed crowd, "it was Jim Jones." He says this before revealing tableaux of lynching and welfare and scary film clips of the atomic bomb. In essence, he's scaring his followers into staying in line. He's theatrical, show biz, flash and dazzle. He's also the father of Meg's baby, as opposed to her husband Randy. Every member is his personal plaything.
Within a few years, Jim has taken his People's Temple country-wide, busing everyone this way and that and playing to gigantic tabernacles and halls. Linda Haynes is sent to Geneva to deposit hoards of cash in a Swiss bank and Randy is sent to San Francisco to find a permanent (and huge) base there.
In 1971, Jim decides to open up in Guyana. "Bring plenty of money," he tells Randy. He buys 3000 acres there and then tells the government that they need special protection. In other words, heavy artillery. The government official can hardly say no the way Linda is silently flirting with him. She's learned from the master, and after she's done with him, he'll allow all of Jim's needs.
Super-rich Brenda Vaccaro shows up to see if there is anything Jim can do for her mother, dying of cancer. Jim snaps that the doctor's assessment that she's beyond help, "is a medical myth" and mom is brought in on a gurney during one of his over-the-top prayer services. Mom is a big watcher of Jim on TV, so she's ready to believe. In a bit of outrageous theatrics, he pulls the cancer out of her, although to anyone paying attention, it's only a piece of raw meet that was in the palm of his hand, the oldest card trick in the world! But, Brenda believes in him and Brenda happily joins the flock of women who belong to him sexually.
Mayor Mosconi selects Jim as his Housing Commissioner because he preaches to be a friend to everyone, white and black, rich and poor, gay and straight. During a service, a lackey of Jim's finds LeVar Burton sleeping and he's brought into the aisle to be slapped in public. LeVar argues that he was up all night painting the nursery, at Jim's insistence, but Jim says that was only a small thing, that he needs to devote himself fully. Okay, now they are just bullies. The next time LeVar falls asleep, he's flogged. "This is worse than the Klan, for God's sake," his father says. Oh, and by now everyone in the congregation is calling him Dad.
LeVar's father goes to Rep Ned Beatty with his fears, but Ned is skeptical. After all, Jim is the Housing Commissioner, but he decides to check into everything, including bank accounts. Jim decides to turn this on his congregation. "Who is my Judas?" he asks the congregation. LeVar's mother, deep into Jim's teachings, doesn't even realize it's her husband, but to teach the family a lesson, LeVar is locked in his painting shed with a lit cigarette and blown up (though he survives, with nary a scratch). With investigations closing in, it's time to move to Jonestown, Guyana. A spirited version of "Down by the Riverside," excites people so much that they can't say no. Once again, theatrics have won the day.
LeVar does not want to go to Guyana, especially since he's met a new girl. His mother is upset because her husband has left. "The family has never been apart," she says, the last vestige of her old life still alive in there somewhere. But, she leaves without LeVar.
Guyana certainly looks like paradise, but the crops are going to fail because Jim has driven the natives from the land instead of listening to them. "I will make it happen here with God's help," he barks at the government official who is trying to help. His ego has grown so large that he can't be bothered listening to anyone.
Indeed LeVar does go to Guyana, with his new wife Irene Cara in tow. Upon arriving, everyone gives up all passports and travel documents. No one seems to find that strange. LeVar finds it strange and he and his wife are not being housed together, but those are the rules. Jim keeps all of his hens together without any other roosters to get in the way.
Jim's nightly new broadcasts are a mixture of rambling paranoia and no-nonsense instructions. Richard and Irene do not fit in well. Jim summons Irene. He drugs her and has his way with her, pissing off LeVar, but LeVar has little choice as Jim outlaws marriage. His reasoning is beyond wacky: that marriages outside of the church are made of mismatched people and have to be destroyed. LeVar stands up and objects, so Jim proclaims him a homosexual, which is why his wife came to Jim in the first place (remember, she was summoned and drugged). Spewing all sorts of anti-gay rhetoric, he works the congregation into a dither enough to put LeVar in a small box for a few days. He's not judge and jury. There's only one step left.
From San Francisco, Randy calls to tell Jim he's off the housing commission and that he should return to the states to answer the charges against him. Naturally, Jim refuses, knowing that's he's guilty and will be arrested. "Is Jim as out of control as he sounds on the radio?" Randy asks when he arrives in Guyana? His wife says it's actually worse. They decide they have to take their son and leave. Randy tries his best to reason with Jim as Ned Beatty widens his investigation, but Jim has a fit, going through every level of melodrama to defend his position. Randy wants to take his son back to the US and Jim will not let that happen to "my son." He's manipulated so many minds, the kids follow whatever he wants. Randy and his wife decide to leave. Since his wife Meg is being sent to Brazil to deposit more illegal cash, and they decide not to go back. He calls Ned and begs for his help in order to get his son out of there. He even asks Ned to go to Guyana to see for himself. Jim spins this to the faithful as the CIA spending spies to kill him.
When Brenda's mother dies, she realizes she's been had. Not only did he not cure her mother, but he's taken her family and money from her. However, LeVar and Brenda do not add up to much. Ned, his staff, Diana, Meg and Randy arrive in Jonestown with reporters, but Jim's minions will allow only the Congressman and his aide, though Diana and Brenda's husband somehow gets to go too. They are greeted by a very chipper Veronica, who takes them to his throne. Brenda launches an attack that Ned can hear, but Jim sweeps her away, saying that she has simply lost her faith. Veronica shows Ned and his aide around, but of course only the parts that are complete safe to report on. The whole commune is fed a gigantic meal, something they have never had so far. "I must admit, Mr. Jones, I expected to come down and see a hell hole," and says that instead he found a wonderful place. For crying out loud, Jim tosses in a chorus of kids to sing.
Some of Jim's goons see LeVar making moves to perhaps attempt an escape, so they "stash him in the jungle." Then there is Brad, who encounters Diana. He believes that as the cult doctor, he has saved lives and will never leave. He tells her to stop living in the past and forget him.
Ned does ask Jim about the financial irregularities and sexual offenses. Jim has excuses to cover them all. Jim says he slept with only one woman other than Veronica, and it resulted in his son (Randy's son, but Ned doesn't know that). The way he delivers the speech makes one thing that not only is he acting just the way Ned will appreciate, but that he even believes his own lives by now. Ned isn't really buying it and neither is his assistant, who says they need to leave immediately. Ned tells the whole commune that anyone wanting to leave can do so the next day with him.
Only a few people actually take Ned up on his offer. Jim is worried about the lies they will spread and his head of security wants to stop them. "It's all over, it's all over. I've been betrayed...ask everyone to come to the pavilion, I have to talk to them," he cries to Veronica. Kool-Aid time! "Sounds like Dad wants us to have another one of his loyalty tests," LeVar's mother says and everyone arrives like sheep. To hammer in what's about to happen, the movie shows us hobbling old people and infants being brought.
Jim gets one last speech to the flock. "If we can't live in peace, then let's die in peace," he rails to the cheering crowd. He says that the Congressman is going to be shot (though saying that he didn't ask anyone to do it--of course not, he's never to blame). Suicide is merely a revolution. When someone disagrees, he says he would rather choose his own time of death, rather than live in torment. He's got an answer for everything, no matter how nonsensical it sounds.
At the airstrip, everyone is killed, the Congressmen included. A cameraman filmed it until getting shot, but the camera kept rolling.
In Jonestown, the juice is given to everyone. People who try to refuse are forced. The bodies pile up, but Jim continues to ramble through his microphone, saying death is better than living with what is to come. Only LeVar and his brother run into the forest. Randy and Jean arrive at the airstrip, see the dead bodies and are themselves killed. Linda tries to run away with the money, but she's shot too. With everyone dead, it's down to Brad, Veronica and Jim. And yet Jim still pontificates, only now to hundreds of dead bodies. Finally he too dies.
Airing this miniseries in 1980 was taking a risk. After all, it has been only two years since the deaths in Jonestown and the details were still fresh in everyone's minds. So, is this sordid calculation? Perhaps. But, it's also riveting storytelling, with Powers Boothe so eerily channeling Jim Jones that one begins to think perhaps Jim Jones lived on a bit longer to inhibit Powers Boothe and make sure his message wasn't completely dead.
True to genre form, the film starts at the end, with Jim Jones telling everyone to drink the juice as he's shot, the "enemy" on the approach.
PSYCH! It was a "loyalty test." No one has been shot and the juice is just juice. But, it proves how much of a hold Jim Jones (Powers Boothe) has over his followers. It's close to the end in 1978 and Representative Leo Ryan (Ned Beatty) is on his way to Guyana to ascertain exactly what's happening down in Guyana.
Even as a 10-year old child in 1941, Jim was a bully and a religious zealot. He's in charge of leading the funeral for a pet, with only other children watching. His sermon goes on so long that the other kids get fidgety, but he's not afraid to smack them with a stick to keep them in line. Toting around a Bible, he tells other kids they are going to hell. The only voice of reason against Jim's fundamentalism is his father, Jim Jones, Sr. (Ed Lauter), who tells him all he's going to get for egging on the other kids is a beating. Mama Lynette (Diane Ladd) is more practical, wanting her lazy husband to go back to work. Jim's only solace is with Mrs. Kennedy (Colleen Dewhurst), the woman responsible for teaching Jim her version of the Good Book. "Get out of my way, you Psalm-singin' little creep," Jim Sr. tells the boy as his mother plots their escape.
Eight years later, Jim is fully grown (and ready to be played for maximum bang by Powers Boothe). Working at a hospital, he meets Marcy (Veronica Cartwright), a nurse. I don't know that his tactic is exactly foolproof, because he spews more religion than love, but she's hooked.
Jim has a way of turning even the best moments into religious lunacy. He's getting a hair cut when a black child walks in for one. The owner refuses to cut his hair and Jim is furious. Okay, so far, so good, he's not racist. But, he blows it by then damning the owner to hell and spouting off.
He marries Marcy and then is invited to run a church where membership is dwindling. At first, he's depressed at the lack of turnout, but he is hell bent on getting youth involved in the church. He even goes after the town's prostitutes, and it works. Hooker Rosalind Cash believes in him instantly and wants to go to church, but she worries about how the others will look at her. He tells her to come anyway and she remains fiercely loyal to him, staying all the way through the end in Guyana. Depressed pet shop owner Randy Quaid decides to come to church just to see how the whites will react to the blacks, but at least he's there. . The church elders aren't thrilled with the mixing and goons even throw a dead dog through the window. He's fired by the bigots, and decides never again to work for a church with "small minded me with no vision!"
So, he does what any preacher without a church would do--he goes to the ghetto and starts praying on the rubble. He finds an abandoned synagogue and turns it into "The People's Temple." Again, so far, so good. He's a bit nutsy in his religious fervor, but he wants people of all shapes, sizes and colors. His specialty is ministering to the so-called lost puppies, overwhelming them with kindness and earning their undying (oops, bad word choice) loyalty.
As Jim struggles to make a go of it, he visits Father Divine (James Earl Jones), who may actually believe he's God. He asks Father Divine what to do about the feelings he's having for some of the female parishioners. Basically, celebrate it and help them bring it out. "Mary wasn't a virgin," Father Divine notes.
A medley of all the good Jim does wanders a breakneck speed as a hymn is sung. The man sure as hell seems a saint at this point, ministering to the poor and downtrodden, worried about each and every parishioner with such passion. Heck, even I could forgive some overzealous behavior since he's doing so well. His wife tells him to delegate and his response is, "does God delegate?" Ah, that seems like a crack in the plaster. Does he think he's God now? He brings some old-time tent revival shenanigans to his services, healing the sick, though they are actually just his loyal friends in disguise. Starting to believe he's God, he feels he has the right to sleep around. When is wife sees him with a young girl, he says he "has to be all things to be all people." That's a nice excuse that covers just about anything possible. It's an all-encompassing tent of free space for him to do whatever the hell he wants. It seems that any young woman who walks into a room where he's sitting ends up having sex with him.
Jim is named to the city's Human Rights Commission, which gives him the power force the mixing of the races, such as a cute scene where Jim rams his whole congregation into a movie theater flashing his credentials and cash.
He takes in a drug addict to prove he can cure him by holding him in the bed, where it looks a little more touchy-feely than doctor/patient. He also starts to use drugs himself. Hidden behind sunglasses most of the time, Jim has officially turned the corner on the way to Nutsville.
By 1965, things are booming at The People's Temple so much that they can move into fancier digs and Randy Quaid can propose to and marry Meg Foster. Randy is unusually sanguine about Jim's role in his wife's life. He's simply willing to accept it. As for where all the money is coming from, it's from the members. All of the senior citizens sign over their welfare checks or anything else they have.
After having saved Brad Dourif from a life of drugs, Jim makes the moves on his girlfriend Diana Scarwid in the forest using some honey-coated phrases that prove only that he's horny. He also still has Brad in his bed and under his thrall. This last fact has Diana being one of the first to question Jim's methods. "He has special needs," Brad says, after Rosalind tells her sins in the Bible don't apply to people like Jim who is spreading a special message (his sperm, mostly, because the rest of the message is getting increasingly muddled). Diana convinces Brad to escape with her, but Jim finds them. "I saved him and I will not lose him to you, to drugs or to anything else," Jim declares. There is one too many of the letter I in that sentence and not enough about religion. Jim insists that Diana stay in the room while he and Brad get it on.
His speeches are also more about himself than anything. "It wasn't God that brought you here," he tells a packed crowd, "it was Jim Jones." He says this before revealing tableaux of lynching and welfare and scary film clips of the atomic bomb. In essence, he's scaring his followers into staying in line. He's theatrical, show biz, flash and dazzle. He's also the father of Meg's baby, as opposed to her husband Randy. Every member is his personal plaything.
Within a few years, Jim has taken his People's Temple country-wide, busing everyone this way and that and playing to gigantic tabernacles and halls. Linda Haynes is sent to Geneva to deposit hoards of cash in a Swiss bank and Randy is sent to San Francisco to find a permanent (and huge) base there.
In 1971, Jim decides to open up in Guyana. "Bring plenty of money," he tells Randy. He buys 3000 acres there and then tells the government that they need special protection. In other words, heavy artillery. The government official can hardly say no the way Linda is silently flirting with him. She's learned from the master, and after she's done with him, he'll allow all of Jim's needs.
Super-rich Brenda Vaccaro shows up to see if there is anything Jim can do for her mother, dying of cancer. Jim snaps that the doctor's assessment that she's beyond help, "is a medical myth" and mom is brought in on a gurney during one of his over-the-top prayer services. Mom is a big watcher of Jim on TV, so she's ready to believe. In a bit of outrageous theatrics, he pulls the cancer out of her, although to anyone paying attention, it's only a piece of raw meet that was in the palm of his hand, the oldest card trick in the world! But, Brenda believes in him and Brenda happily joins the flock of women who belong to him sexually.
Mayor Mosconi selects Jim as his Housing Commissioner because he preaches to be a friend to everyone, white and black, rich and poor, gay and straight. During a service, a lackey of Jim's finds LeVar Burton sleeping and he's brought into the aisle to be slapped in public. LeVar argues that he was up all night painting the nursery, at Jim's insistence, but Jim says that was only a small thing, that he needs to devote himself fully. Okay, now they are just bullies. The next time LeVar falls asleep, he's flogged. "This is worse than the Klan, for God's sake," his father says. Oh, and by now everyone in the congregation is calling him Dad.
LeVar's father goes to Rep Ned Beatty with his fears, but Ned is skeptical. After all, Jim is the Housing Commissioner, but he decides to check into everything, including bank accounts. Jim decides to turn this on his congregation. "Who is my Judas?" he asks the congregation. LeVar's mother, deep into Jim's teachings, doesn't even realize it's her husband, but to teach the family a lesson, LeVar is locked in his painting shed with a lit cigarette and blown up (though he survives, with nary a scratch). With investigations closing in, it's time to move to Jonestown, Guyana. A spirited version of "Down by the Riverside," excites people so much that they can't say no. Once again, theatrics have won the day.
LeVar does not want to go to Guyana, especially since he's met a new girl. His mother is upset because her husband has left. "The family has never been apart," she says, the last vestige of her old life still alive in there somewhere. But, she leaves without LeVar.
Guyana certainly looks like paradise, but the crops are going to fail because Jim has driven the natives from the land instead of listening to them. "I will make it happen here with God's help," he barks at the government official who is trying to help. His ego has grown so large that he can't be bothered listening to anyone.
Indeed LeVar does go to Guyana, with his new wife Irene Cara in tow. Upon arriving, everyone gives up all passports and travel documents. No one seems to find that strange. LeVar finds it strange and he and his wife are not being housed together, but those are the rules. Jim keeps all of his hens together without any other roosters to get in the way.
Jim's nightly new broadcasts are a mixture of rambling paranoia and no-nonsense instructions. Richard and Irene do not fit in well. Jim summons Irene. He drugs her and has his way with her, pissing off LeVar, but LeVar has little choice as Jim outlaws marriage. His reasoning is beyond wacky: that marriages outside of the church are made of mismatched people and have to be destroyed. LeVar stands up and objects, so Jim proclaims him a homosexual, which is why his wife came to Jim in the first place (remember, she was summoned and drugged). Spewing all sorts of anti-gay rhetoric, he works the congregation into a dither enough to put LeVar in a small box for a few days. He's not judge and jury. There's only one step left.
From San Francisco, Randy calls to tell Jim he's off the housing commission and that he should return to the states to answer the charges against him. Naturally, Jim refuses, knowing that's he's guilty and will be arrested. "Is Jim as out of control as he sounds on the radio?" Randy asks when he arrives in Guyana? His wife says it's actually worse. They decide they have to take their son and leave. Randy tries his best to reason with Jim as Ned Beatty widens his investigation, but Jim has a fit, going through every level of melodrama to defend his position. Randy wants to take his son back to the US and Jim will not let that happen to "my son." He's manipulated so many minds, the kids follow whatever he wants. Randy and his wife decide to leave. Since his wife Meg is being sent to Brazil to deposit more illegal cash, and they decide not to go back. He calls Ned and begs for his help in order to get his son out of there. He even asks Ned to go to Guyana to see for himself. Jim spins this to the faithful as the CIA spending spies to kill him.
When Brenda's mother dies, she realizes she's been had. Not only did he not cure her mother, but he's taken her family and money from her. However, LeVar and Brenda do not add up to much. Ned, his staff, Diana, Meg and Randy arrive in Jonestown with reporters, but Jim's minions will allow only the Congressman and his aide, though Diana and Brenda's husband somehow gets to go too. They are greeted by a very chipper Veronica, who takes them to his throne. Brenda launches an attack that Ned can hear, but Jim sweeps her away, saying that she has simply lost her faith. Veronica shows Ned and his aide around, but of course only the parts that are complete safe to report on. The whole commune is fed a gigantic meal, something they have never had so far. "I must admit, Mr. Jones, I expected to come down and see a hell hole," and says that instead he found a wonderful place. For crying out loud, Jim tosses in a chorus of kids to sing.
Some of Jim's goons see LeVar making moves to perhaps attempt an escape, so they "stash him in the jungle." Then there is Brad, who encounters Diana. He believes that as the cult doctor, he has saved lives and will never leave. He tells her to stop living in the past and forget him.
Ned does ask Jim about the financial irregularities and sexual offenses. Jim has excuses to cover them all. Jim says he slept with only one woman other than Veronica, and it resulted in his son (Randy's son, but Ned doesn't know that). The way he delivers the speech makes one thing that not only is he acting just the way Ned will appreciate, but that he even believes his own lives by now. Ned isn't really buying it and neither is his assistant, who says they need to leave immediately. Ned tells the whole commune that anyone wanting to leave can do so the next day with him.
Only a few people actually take Ned up on his offer. Jim is worried about the lies they will spread and his head of security wants to stop them. "It's all over, it's all over. I've been betrayed...ask everyone to come to the pavilion, I have to talk to them," he cries to Veronica. Kool-Aid time! "Sounds like Dad wants us to have another one of his loyalty tests," LeVar's mother says and everyone arrives like sheep. To hammer in what's about to happen, the movie shows us hobbling old people and infants being brought.
Jim gets one last speech to the flock. "If we can't live in peace, then let's die in peace," he rails to the cheering crowd. He says that the Congressman is going to be shot (though saying that he didn't ask anyone to do it--of course not, he's never to blame). Suicide is merely a revolution. When someone disagrees, he says he would rather choose his own time of death, rather than live in torment. He's got an answer for everything, no matter how nonsensical it sounds.
At the airstrip, everyone is killed, the Congressmen included. A cameraman filmed it until getting shot, but the camera kept rolling.
In Jonestown, the juice is given to everyone. People who try to refuse are forced. The bodies pile up, but Jim continues to ramble through his microphone, saying death is better than living with what is to come. Only LeVar and his brother run into the forest. Randy and Jean arrive at the airstrip, see the dead bodies and are themselves killed. Linda tries to run away with the money, but she's shot too. With everyone dead, it's down to Brad, Veronica and Jim. And yet Jim still pontificates, only now to hundreds of dead bodies. Finally he too dies.
Airing this miniseries in 1980 was taking a risk. After all, it has been only two years since the deaths in Jonestown and the details were still fresh in everyone's minds. So, is this sordid calculation? Perhaps. But, it's also riveting storytelling, with Powers Boothe so eerily channeling Jim Jones that one begins to think perhaps Jim Jones lived on a bit longer to inhibit Powers Boothe and make sure his message wasn't completely dead.
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