That's right folks, a double-header! You can't watch one without the other, so put together, these two make a miniseries. Plus, it has to be in the top ten most played on the Lifetime network (if only Tori Spelling had made a sequel to "Mother May I Sleep With Danger?" we could be talking about her too) and it's too much fun to ignore.
It's a true story, that of Betty Broderick, a woman who killed her husband after he left her for another woman. I don't know Betty Broderick personally so I can't speak of her personality, but somewhere very soon into the movie, it stops being about Betty and starts being about Meredith Baxter's performance. Good? Not really. Insanely watchable? You bet! Meredith goes over the top and then more in her grab for role of a lifetime. The goes so far that one actually sympathizes with the dead characters for not having to deal with her anymore. In saying that, I'm not worried that should Betty Broderick ever be released from prison she'll come after me, but I am worried that Meredith Baxter might hunt me down if I weren't so absolutely sure she's damn proud of her work here. She's having a whale of a time as Betty Broderick!
Things start out as perfectly as possible. Betty is a soccer mom, literally, with shoulder pads and mom jeans, cheering on her kid as he scores the winning goal. Hubby Dan (Steven Collins, always dying in a miniseries) is a successful and they were "euphoric" with all the money they had. All the perks of being rich. The kind of rich that goes to fancy balls and buys friends trips to Paris at the spur of the moment, which doesn't sit well with Betty. "Dan, that's my manicure day," she says, getting nervous laughter from her friends, but pissed as hell that wasn't told. "You act like royalty or something. It's irritating as hell," she snaps. Yeah, trips to Paris are so awful!
Betty has to take over Boy Scout duties from Dan, who is on the phone with a call for ages. She tells the kids a scary ghost story that seems a bit too real. Yup, nine minutes in and she's losing it. And Dan has to sleep on the couch because of it.
At a St. Patrick's Day office party, Dan notices the new receptionist and Betty notices him noticing. That is immediately followed by a scene of Betty staring into the mirror without make-up, looking particularly haggard. Hey, at least the movie is efficient! On a ski trip, the husband and wife carp at each other, but Betty gets all the better jabs. Her children even mouth the argument along with them because it's become so routine.
The family is forced to move into a rental as their house is under construction, and Betty seems happy enough to manage that, but Dan has hired Linda to be his personal secretary (Michelle Johnson).
Betty shows up at Dan's office, decked out in a red suit, black and white shoes, champagne and glasses, only to be told by the secretary that Dan and Linda are out. "It's his birthday," she chirps. Betty shoots her a withering glance and then goes into his office to find it done up for a big birthday celebration. When he comes home in his little red sportscar, Betty at first plays it cool. For a minute. "Who goes to lunch for seven hours...and with a 19-year old whore to boot," she rails. And from there it's an attack, out on the street no less.
Then comes the moment where Meredith tears into the role, unhinged and uncaring. Right there on the lawn, kids watching, she burns all of his clothing, whispering "liar, liar, pants on fire." Dan jokes it off with his brother, concentrating on his golf game while his brother tries to tell him she's cukoo.
Loyal secretary Alice (Debra Jo Rupp) confronts Dan about Linda zooming up in the company, making more than poor Alice. Alice doesn't buy Dan's explanation and quits. She leaves him with a monologue about treating people better that is nice and succinct. Take a lesson, Betts. She doesn't. For Christmas, Dan buys Betty a gorgeous piece of jewelry, not the one she wanted, one he liked better. "You like it better?...It's not the one I asked for, so it's a piece of crap!" she howls and stalks off.
Dan invites Betty to a formal lunch, where she immediately launches into him. She can't understand why they have to meet somewhere, but she doesn't know he's about to leave her. He says he's moving out, which comes as a complete shock to self-absorbed Betty, as wide-eyed as Manson and as sarcastic as Wolocott. You see, she believes SHE is the key to their success. She wants him to stay, "because you owe me." She stalks off, telling him he's selfish. She has a point. He's not perfect, that's for sure.
Then it gets bad! She drops off one of the kids at his house when he's not even there. She did it on purpose, to make him realize what it's like to raise kids. Step two in her plan is to buy a brand new house. "Ultimately, what turns him on is status," she says, and bi-polar Betty thinks she's going to win him back. Those two steps don't exactly make any sense, to us at least.
Betty pays a surprise visit to Dan's house whenhe's not there, telling the kids he's a lousy parent and then cuts up his bedroom before leaving, smearing it with the cake Linda made. That's the final straw. She gets served with divorce papers.
With a shaky cam, meaning lunacy, Betty tears over to Dan's house, screaming from the outside before breaking in. And taking out her frustration on the house with a bottle of spray and a holy hell temper. This earns her a restraining order, but that doesn't penetrate Betty's mind. "All I want to know is if we can nail this guy in court," she bellows to her lawyer, who isn't "excited" enough for Betty. Cancel that lawyer!
Betty refuses to sell the house for the money Dan agrees to. Dan has a legal maneuver ready to combat it. He's a little on edge, telling his daughter not to come home from a date because she's pissed at having to spend a holiday with his new girlfriend (finally, he's doing Linda). Betty has a new man and can't find a lawyer because word is out that she's crazy and that he's a famous lawyer. So, she leaves a message on his machine full of ire. "You think you can just ignore me? You can't? I will not be ignored!"
When Betty finds out he sold the house, she's furious, violating the restraining order and showing up at his house in gold flats. Even the kids are scared this time. The wrath of Betty is fully unleashed. She drives her gigantic van into the house. Over and over and over again. Dan and Betty fight on the lawn until the police arrive and she's arrested, scratching and clawing about the power men have over women. Oh, it's a corker, and Meredith mines every last drop of venom out of it.
Just so we have SOME sympathy for Betty, she's given a tearful speech in prison. It doesn't work. That is not Meredith's forte. Keep the kiddies away when Betty's Christmas lights don't work. She goes over to Dan's and breaks in. When her daughter comes in unexpectedly, she asks, "is there anything under this tree for me?" and then goes on a tear through the presents, breaking one and injuring her daughter. "I'm sorry. I just love you all so much." Uh huh.
Betty is no less together in court. She can't keep her mouth shut, snapping at the judge that she has no rights in "Mother Russia." She feels that he controls the whole law system and she loses. Loses all custody, all visitation rights.
Working at an art gallery, Betty phones a friend to take her out, but it seems all of their friends have taken Dan's side. She leaves more nasty messages attacking the girlfriend, but the little son hears the expletive-fed message and tells her to knock it off. Even he's ashamed for her. She calls him a traitor. "Who put you up to this? The slut or the traitor?" she's yelling as he drops the phone. Worst for her is that Linda has slipped very comfortably into her life, even going to the costume parties they used to go to (the first scene is repeated, but with Linda, but this time everyone is happy). Betty tells the kids that when Dan and Linda are married, he will disown them and forget about them. She's not above using the kids as pawns. Dan tells the kids in the next scene that he's hoping his new marriage brings everyone stability.
Not likely, since Betty hotfoots it off to buy a gun, which she takes to very easily. In one of her Japanese night outfits that she loves so much, with the gold shoes, she leaves him umpteen messages until he finally picks up. Dan decides to make her pay, taking money away from the alimony every time she curses, comes over or takes the kids. That leaves her about $15K in the hole after one month. Betty ruins the daughter's graduation by following Linda around with her camera like a cracked paparazzo.
Betty steals Dan and Linda's wedding list, which sends them back to court. She fully admits that she stole it, but doesn't have it. So, the judge takes away her alimony. A suddenly stupid Linda breaks into Betty's house to get the list back and finds Betty is obsessed with her, even making up Christmas cards that have pictures of her and Linda, saying "Don't we look alike?" Betty has penned an autobiography, which Linda brings to Dan, still too gooey to do anything about it. He doesn't want Linda ruining her "credibility" by having proven she's broken into Betty's house. Betty still has the list, calling everyone on it and begging them not to go.
Dan and Linda have to have security guards at their wedding and Dan's brother wants him to wear a bullet-proof vest under his tuxedo! Everyone in town has Betty's number. The costume designer of this movie fails us once again as Linda is given the ugliest wedding dress (with a bandana no less). Luckily, they make it through the wedding day without incident, "guarded" by a friend, though she does say that it was the worst day of her life. That one? The day she rammed the car through the house was less bad?
Betty's best friend (her only friend) tries to get her to move on in an impassioned speech ("you're cultured, you're funnier than any two comedians I know"--boy, that's heavy praise), but she's rewarded with a tantrum and exits. Following are zigzagging scenes of Dan's happiness and Betty's misery. We get it.
In a funk (maybe for sympathy?), she heads on over to Dan's in the middle of the night, sneaks in quietly and mows them down. She didn't seem to want to do it until Linda opened her eyes, and then she had to fire the whole gun. Dan, still alive, reaches for the gun, but she grabs it from him and leaves. As the sun rises, she makes a call and admits it. In prison, she says she intended to kill herself in front of them. "I have regrets, but no remorse. I regret that my husband had no character, that my kids lost their mother and stability," she reports, "happy to be locked up in this dark little world where no one can get me." She will be eligible for parole in 2010.
So ends the first part. "Her Final Fury" actually shows us the killing again, picking up with her phone call to daughter Kate (Kelli Williams) confessing. The kids are a mess when friends come to tell them, but Kate tries to calm her down. Get this, as they do it, she apologizes to them. "I hope you didn't have anything special planned." Um? What? Didn't she just murder their father? Hell, the one even cradles her as she vomits in the toilet. Betty snaps to and has the presence of mind to write up a will and check for $10K to divide among the kids. She even takes off her jewelry. This is an awfully calm woman, a woman who has apprently had time to do her hair. Then it's off to jail, where she looks comfy in a sweatsuit, not at all scared.
Kerry Wells (Judith Ivey) is the District Attorney assigned to the case, told by her boss it's a clear cut case, "now you have to prove it." What's to prove? Betty's defense is that Dan took everything from her, that she couldn't get a fair shake from the whole town's legal system. Sorry? Not at all. Now we have Meredith the calm-about-to-let-loose nutball. She loved her rage throughout the first movie, but now we have a new Betty. However, Kerry's job isn't so clear-cut because Betty is seen as a victim by women's groups and has some sympathy building in her favor.
One of Betty's sons asks Kerry "will my mom be out in time to see my soccer game?" That pretty much shuts down her attempt to question them. Maybe her kids are as out of touch as she is! On her side, Betty has had to fire "one incompetent lawyer" she threatens her second one. They go to a bail hearing, where the judge wisely denies Betty bail. "I'd rather have her be my lawyer," Betty snarls at her lawyer, referring to Kerry.
Betty takes to the press, hiring a PR firm to defend her reputation. "When did you last see your children?" a reporter asks her. "Just before I checked in here," she chirps, as if he's having voluntary plastic surgery. We get Meredith-in-a-haze Betty again as she tells the stories, but boy does she tell her story, over and over and over, on any phone she can find in prison. She feels no lawyer can defend her, so she files to defend herself, not a bad plea for sympathy, but eventually she gets a darn good lawyer.
Talking to the prison shrink, she is asked bluntly if she sees the implications of her acts, and she doesn't see it at all. She is only the victim. Her friend comes to prison to tell her she's the topic at every party, at the hairdresser, in the checkout line. "It's be nice to your ex-wife week," she even jokes. Betty is thrilled! She gets mail from all over the world, women cheering her on. Prison seems downright fun. She won't put on a wristband because everyone knows who she is, she's so popular. "I don't need a wristband, I need a secretary." Oh, our Meredith is flipping her lid again, just in a different direction. No matter which kind of crazy Meredith goes, she's oh-so-lovable!
One of the kids tries to yank the movie away from his on-screen mother by blaming himself and crying for Kerry. That will not be allowed for long! It's back to Betty and her friend, discussing which outfit she'll wear. "Maybe being dressed as a human being again will make me feel like one again," she says before it's time to go back to her cell. On the prison bus to court, she alone is dressed in designer apparel, her hair done, jewels in place. Everyone else looks like...well, a prisoner.
What actress doesn't dream of a trial scene? Both here, because Judith Ivey is going to work her considerably talent raw trying to win the day from our Meredith. Betty's lawyer gets at least some of the women on the jury to sympathize early on with some corny theatrics. But Judith comes back with Betty's old friends who portray her as materialistic and vain. Back and forth the witnesses go, pro-Betty, anti-Betty. Daughter Kate gives some pretty damning evidence about how Betty stole her keys to Dan's house and pretended to help her look for them all over the place.
When it's Betty's turn to take the stand, she's rational and has an excuse for every check ever written. She's not a spendthrift, she's just supporting a family. Even when Kerry brings up the vandalization, Betty is calm. For her defense, she claims that he was verbally abusive, that she didn't please him, that she was fat, boring, etc. "I tried to get rid of wrinkles that weren't even there," she bawls, pulling out all the sympathy acting, and they are buying it! But, talking to her lawyer, she's full of anger at the prison system. Still the victim, she's angry at the jury for taking so long! As if Kerry isn't clear on the case, she has a poster on the wall, a picture of a casket that says, "He beat her 150 times and she only got flowers once." Ouch!
The jury is deadlocked (and a male is the holdout, telling the press "I don't know what took her so long"). The judge has to declare a mistrial and we have to go through it again. Betty is overjoyed; Judith, not so much, though she decides to work the second trial.
Back in prison, Betty has a showdown with the guard who has wanted her to wear a wristband. Go, Meredith, back to crackpot Betty, the screaming harpy! We missed you!
Meet Natalie Parker, she's the reporter who wants to celebrate Betty in the press. As her friend tells Natalie, "maybe the next Dan Broderick will think twice." Then Betty gets to spew her famous tirade again, about how the legal system did her wrong, the bifurcation order ("where the man gets to screw his wife and her girlfriend at the same time") and her other favorite topics. She's mighty proud of herself.
Steel yourself. Betty has a fight with a fellow prisoner (actually, the other woman causes it). When the guards come for Betty, she refuses to go and it takes a small army of them to pull her out, with one officer recording it for posterity. First a trial, then a prison fight scene? Is there nothing our Meredith can't handle channeling Betty? The footage makes it to TV (where of course, her kids see it).
Now the problem is what Kate should do, testify against her mother, who has threatened to kill her, or skulk away? She gets on the stand and has sudden amnesia about her previous testimony and this isn't good for mom. Kelli goes all cry-cry-cry on the stand, but she's out of her league. No one can trump our Meredith, and Judith has stopped trying, merely doing journeyman work to get it over with. A shrink diagnoses Betty with narcissistic personality disorder. Wait, that took nearly two movies? We knew that from the third or fourth scene all the way back in the first movie. The doctor also says she's never been suicidal, only homicidal.
After Betty is refused a trip to the infirmary to touch up her roots, she gets to testify again. She's just as ornery as ever, but Kerry is smarter this time, doing her best to rile Betty, rather than let her hold the cards. Judith gets back in fighting form, but still holds back a bit. This really could be a grudge match, but hey, it's Meredith's movie. Kerry picks apart all of the differences in testimony, debunking Betty's suicide theory. Betty gets so confused that it's all over for her in a few moments. Don't get me wrong, Betty doesn't cower. She keeps saying "it was my impression," rather than admitting what happened, but Kerry is too smart for that and tears apart the testimony. After Kerry crushes her, she asks, "why didn't you kill yourself?" "There were no bullets left!!!!!" Betty rails, making it oh so much worse for herself. Her own testimony damns her to a guilty verdict.
Meredith Baxter has had a long and distinguised career, both before 1992 and after 1992, but I'm afraid she will always be Betty Broderick. I say "afraid," becuase I actually fear she BECAME Betty and every performance since (anyone see the remake of "Murder on the Orient Express"?) has had some Betty in it. Perhaps when Betty is released from prison, there will be a third story, and we can dig up Meredith to make it work. I can only hope.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Ivanhoe (1982)
When all else fails, raid the classics! "Ivanhoe," by Sir Walter Scott, has been filmed more than a few times before 1982, but the 1970s and 1980s found a flourishing trade in filmed classics, particularly a slew of Dumas films that all seemed to star Richard Chamberlain. Since "Ivanhoe" is chock-filled with adventure and romance, it's not a bad idea for another remake. If nothing else, you don't have to pay Clavell, you don't have to pay Judith Krantz. Hell, you don't even have to pay Jackie Collins. Sir Walter Scott is as cheap as the Bible and he can't object to any changes. So, we're faced with a rather cheap-looking production, but it's diverting enough. Not a classic, but kind of fun.
The tone is set from the narration. "You are about to see a tale of story of bold nights and beautiful maidens. A story of love and hatred and prejudice. Thought our story is old, the love, the hatred and the prejudice are ever new." Okay, I'm already worried. Are we trying to make "Ivanhoe" relevant to 1982? Love and hate are certainly eternal, but there are very few prejudices that straddled England in 1194 and the United States in 1982. Well, let's see how they manage this!
It starts with James Mason as Isaac of York riding through the thick woods of England that are as omnipresent in film as Anthony Andrews and John Rhys-Davies are to the miniseries, so guess who's about to show up? Isaac is pulled off his horse by hooded Anthony Andrews as Ivanhoe. Wilfred is actually helping Isaac, because the Knights headed by Front de Boeuf (John Rhys-Davies) are lurking about looking for Jewish Isaac (ah, okay, I see a prejudice in common, but James does it no favors by invoking a Jewish cadence that pegs him as...well...as James Mason after a vaction in Poland circa 1927).
Isaac repays Wilfred by giving him the horse and lance he needs to participate in a nearby fair. Front de Boeuf is already there, looking villainous, as is Brian de Bois-Guilbert (Sam Neill), praying and De Bracy (Stuart Wilson). Watching the tournament: Cedric (Michael Hordern), Prince John (Ronald Pickup), Rebecca (Olivia Hussey) and Lady Rowena (Lysette Anthony), the pretty blonde Saxon, which doesn't sound so pretty when Isaac spits out the words scornfully. The rules are read, much ado is made about choosing a lady for the joust and then we're off. So far, so good. Twelve minutes in and we have some action. Jousts are always exciting, and mercifully short. When Ivanhoe makes his appearance, his daddy Cedric refuses to get worked up since he's disowned him. It's equally bad news for the three winners so far because Ivanhoe is a native Saxon against the three Normans. He knocks Front de Boeuf to the ground. The other two go down also and Ivanhoe is the winner, allowed to pick the fair's queen, Lady Rowena, looking so dewy it's impossible.
The decision is also much to the chagrin of poor Rebecca (hey, in her career, Olivia got Romeo and God's seed, so she did okay in the end). She whines to her father, Isaac, that not all Christians are bad, and then in comes Ivanhoe to repay the debt to her father. Isaac refuses all money since Ivanhoe saved his life. He still has no eyes for Rebecca. Ditsy Rowena did not realize Ivanhoe under his helmet at the joust as her true love, even though her father has promised to Athelstone (Michael Gothard). Rowena's fool Wamba (George Innes) speaks in riddles that go over her head, trying to help her figure it out.
Day Two of the fair. Now the guys get to do hand-to-hand combat (though knives are not allowed). Ivanhoe wins this too and though injured, finally reveals himself to Rowena, who presents him that day's crown honor. He promptly passes out, though it may be from the terrible acting of Lady Rowena, and no one will help him. Not his father, who abjectly refuses. Rebecca begs Isaac to help, but he wants no parts of a Christian, but he relents. As for the knights who lost, they are worried that the return of Ivanhoe means King Richard isn't far behind, on his way back from the Crusades, which means Prince John and the rest of them are out of business (indeed, he is lurking not far away).
Rebecca nurses Ivanhoe back to life, using herbs "passed down from the days of Solomon." They are leaving and want to take Ivanhoe with them, but he refuses. Not because they are Jews, as Rebecca wonders, but because he doesn't want to "inconvenience" them. Geez, our hero is just too damn good, isn't he?
At the banquet, Prince John tries to toast to Cedric's son Ivanhoe, but Cedric refuses. He want his married his ward Rowena to Athelstone, a drunkard. He further sticks his foot in dog doo by toasting King Richard, the only Norman he'll drink to, Saxon he is to the core. Isaac and Rebecca have taken Ivanhoe to York and Prince John finds out King Richard is back in England, so he and his evil knights are off to York as well.
Isaac and Rebecca's caravan is stopped when their men desert them, fearing forest bandits, and take all the horses. Ivanhoe is barely coherent, so things are not looking good for this bedraggled threesome. Isaac then nags God for heaping this horror upon them, nailing in more annoying behavior. Who should happen upon them? Cedric and Rowena, of course! Cedric refuses to deal with Jews, but Rebecca makes an impassioned plea for the patient, whom she says is an old person who cannot make it otherwise. Rowena steps in and begs Cedric, who finally agrees. "So be it. They travel in the rear," he says.
The Norman knights overtake the party, with De Bracy promised Rowena. Brian gets all lovesick for Rebecca, despite her being an "infidel," and still no one bothers to look under the cover of the sick bed, believing it to be the old lady Rebecca says it is. So, the Saxons and the Jews are taken to Front de Boeuf's castle where De Bracy finally looks under the cover, but allows them in anyway. I guess it's better to keep one's enemies close.
Wampa has managed to escape being taken prisoner and he's found by King Richard, who now knows where everyone is, but unfortunately he's soon captured himself...by Robin Hood (David Robb) and his band of merry men! Friar Tuck (Tony Haygarth) is drunk in a fun way. They agree to help set the captives free.
Cedric sputters in captivity, unable to chew the scenery only because it's supposed to be stone, Athlestone wants a drink and Rowena plays the tough dame (though not very well) to De Bracy. De Bracy isn't such a bad catch. Sure, he has bad taste in friends (especially Front de Boeuf, as done by John Rhys-Davies with his usual too-big-for-television bluster) and he threatens her with Ivanhoe's life, but he seems the least noxious of the Normans. "The fate of all depends on your decision," De Bracy tells Rowena, who, let's face it, isn't smart enough to get out of this blackmail plot.
Brian still wants Rebecca, but not to marry her. "Not if you were the Queen of Sheba!" No, no. He only wants to have sex with her, but she threatens to spread the word that a Knight Templar has had his way with a Jewess. He offers to make her his mistress, which she reacts to by almost jumping out the window. Brian agrees to a truce, at least temporarily.
In the battle of overacting, Front de Boeuf wants Isaac's money or else he'll torture him to death. Isaac doesn't have the money, so he tells Front de Boeuf to send Rebecca to go fetch the money, but Front de Boeuf that he's already "given her" to Brian. Isaac goes into an act that would make the worst Shylock groan, and Front de Boeuf orders grand torture to start. In the nick of time, a note arrives that is more important. "I will be back," Front de Boeuf huffs, meaning we can only hope for another scene as maddeningly wacky as this one. The letter is "in the Saxon hands" and it's a letter of defiance to the three knights. It demands the prisoners delivered to the letter writer in an hour, causing maniacal laughs from the villains, which are immediately quenched by the signature of Robin Hood. This frightens even Front de Boeuf, who blames Brian, though his and De Bracy's soldiers are the ones far off in York. The reply letter says they will simply kill the prisoners, unless a man of God is sent to them to hear confession. Friar Tuck refuses to go, so they dress up Wamba (who retains his fool's hat under his cowl).
We've been lacking our leading man for a long time, but he finally wakes up. He's weak, but he wants to help. Rebecca says they are locked in from the outside, but if he can just find out if Rowena is okay, that will do for now. He talks of how much he loves Rowena, asking her if she's ever loved like that. Of course she has, she loves him, but she says no. He digs the knife in deeper, by saying he can't understand how someone as wonderful as she is can be single. He forgets she's a Jewess? Her olive make-up doesn't remind him?
Mamba arrives as the friar, knowing only one Latin phrase, and finding it hard to drop his fool schtick. He reveals himself to Cedric, offering his clothes to Cedric so he can escape and Wamba will die in his place. Cedric wants Wamba to instead switch clothes with Athlestone, a prospect Wamba and Athlestone both refuse, so Cedric it is. Cedric gets to the door of the castle, almost to freedom, when Front de Boeuf stops him, but his disguise is not undone. Instead, Front de Boeuf gives him his plans! Idiotic Cedric can't resist revealing himself as he runs off, and no one bothers to chase him. Front de Boeuf is furious, but Athlestone is willing to make a deal. He'll help if he and the fool are freed...oh, and Rowena (so bland she slipped his mind the first time around). That turns out to be a sticking point, so it looks like we have a battle on our hands!
The battle is mainly a ballet of the howling extras, though King Richard does kill Front de Beouf. Ivanhoe watches from the window and wishes to be at Richard's side, but doesn't do anything to make it happen. Rebecca wonders why the English love to fight. Ivanhoe gives a rah-rah speech about glory and chivalry that almost has her hooked until his wound flares up again. Rebecca says she would only fight to get the Holy Land back. The Jews will have to wait in line for that since the Christians and Muslims are already fighting for it. But wait! This has an effect on Ivanhoe who lovingly kisses Rebecca and vows never to forget her. She's far more memorable than Rowena, but we know they won't end up together!
Robin and company make it through the door (there's not moat, a moat would have helped). De Bracy is pinned down by Richard and spares his life to get to Ivanhoe. Brian gets there first and abducts Rebecca. Everyone but Ivanhoe is fighting now, even Athlestone, though he's wounded. Ivanhoe is rescued by King Richard and whisked off to Robin's camp. Cedric can only think about where Athlestone is, and no one hears the whimpering man only feet away, under a downed pile of hay.
In camp, King Richard frees De Bracy, telling him to leave England under penalty of death. You see, he's a good king. He gets even more chaste by saying he's learned so much from watching the Saxons fight. And then AGAIN when he protects Isaac from Friar Tuck by punching him out in a bit of comedy. How much tolerance can we learn in ten minutes? Apparently enough to build a nation upon.
King Richard also decides to reconcile Ivanhoe and his father, which may be more complicated than fixing the Christian-Jewish problem or the Norman-Saxon problem.
Isaac and Friar Tuck go off to the palace of the Knights Templar, where they have just been discussing how Rebecca must have bewitched Brian. The Grand Master (Philip Locke) questions Isaac, insisting that Rebecca is a witch and has Brian under a spell. He feeds it by confessing that Rebecca is a "healer." The Grand Master takes that to mean sorcery, even though Isaac means nursing. Semantics are going to keep this plot going? The Grand Master, looking enough like a Klan member to bring that whole prejudice connection going between 1194 and 1982. Brian is told Rebecca must be burned, and now suddenly Brian wants her life saved. All he has to do is cast her off, which leads to Rebecca's trial in front of The Grand Master.
King Richard and Ivanhoe leave Robin Hood, but not revealing his identity, though Robin Hood has revealed his. Richard tells him he knew anyway. Obviously he's read the books, watched the movies, seen the shows. I mean, who the hell doesn't know Robin Hood? DUH! Our godly Richard notes to Ivanhoe that he cannot reveal himself until peace is brought to the kingdom, i.e. the Normans and Saxons film an "I'd like to teach the world to sing" Coca-Cola commercial holding hands.
Rebecca has a trial, but it's obviously rigged against her. If she does not come up with a champion quickly, she will be put to death. Anyone care to guess who will be her champion? Anyone who hasn't read the book, that is. \
At Cedric's palace, King Richard reveals himself and promises "equal protection" for Normans and Saxons (playing again on familiar wording) if he will forgive Ivanhoe. That was easy! We're racing to conclusion here, aren't we. However, Cedric refuses to give Rowena's hand to Ivanhoe until two years of mourning are completed.
Cue Athlestone, alive. He willingly pays homage to King Richard and gives Rowena gladly to Ivanhoe because he knows she's never loved him and he's never loved her. "I implore you, can we eat at last?" he says, having taken care of a whole lot of business in the matter of two minutes.
It's a busy palace, this one. Isaac shows up to ask Ivanhoe to champion his daughter and off he goes, though not before giving a chaste little kiss to Rowena, who has just been reunited with him. Damn you, Sir Walter Scott and your plotting! Damn you!
With butter doing anything but melting in her mouth, Rebecca is paid a visit by Brian, offering to save her and ride off to the Holy Land with her, but she refuses and he pretends he doesn't love her. Like she needs him? Ivanhoe is on his way.
Remember Prince John? He has no soldiers left and King Richard is fast approaching. Front de Boeuf is dead, Brian cannot help and De Bracy is sticking to his promise to King Richard to leave England. Even Prince John's most loyal vassal hies to the priesthood in fear.
Unless you have ever read an adventure or romance novel, you will know that as Rebecca is tied to a pole atop a pyre, she's not REALLY going to die. The Grand Master calls for her champion and no one comes forward. The Grand Master puts off the burning for an hour. Brian tries to get Rebecca to run away with him, she refuses, and then he begs her to renounce her faith. She refuses that too. It's going to be a looooooong hour atop that pyre. Well, not that long, because the hour passes literally in five seconds.
Ah, here comes Ivanhoe, riding in just as the fire was to be applied to the pyre (yes, a fire pyre, all of you Sondheim fans). Ivanhoe not only defends her, but denounces Brian and offers to fight him. Before these two cocks go off to fight, Rebecca must accept Ivanhoe as her champion. Like she's in a position to refuse him? Okay, now they can fight. Ivanhoe has bested Brian twice with a lance, so this isn't likely to be very full of suspense. Ivanhoe is knocked off his horse, which means combat with swords. The Grand Master as his fey but talkative assistant all but snort fire as they hope for Brian's success. At first, it seems to be going his way, because Ivanhoe is still weak. Robin Hood and his men are hiding behind the trees, willing to help, of course, but it's been decreed that no one may interfere with this fight. They don't have to. Brian looks at Rebecca and holds the gaze a bit too long, giving Ivanhoe the chance to run him through with a sword.
King Richard arrives in his kingly robes with Prince John in tow and banishes the Grand Master and the rest of the Knights Templar. Off they go. Robin Hood and Friar Tuck are a little ashamed they didn't realize who he was. Richard pronounces complete equality between Saxons and Normans, as he promised.
We need a wedding! Though Ivanhoe loves Rebecca, he loves Rowena more, so it's Rowena he marries. Rebecca goes to Rowena to say her goodbyes, since she and her father are going off to Spain to seek religious freedom. Wow, there's irony for you! The Inquisition never got even a foothold in England, but in Spain, it was a grand success for all but the Jews.
Off Rebecca and Isaac go, as Ivanhoe looks longingly. He has is bland blonde, he's not changing his mind.
The tone is set from the narration. "You are about to see a tale of story of bold nights and beautiful maidens. A story of love and hatred and prejudice. Thought our story is old, the love, the hatred and the prejudice are ever new." Okay, I'm already worried. Are we trying to make "Ivanhoe" relevant to 1982? Love and hate are certainly eternal, but there are very few prejudices that straddled England in 1194 and the United States in 1982. Well, let's see how they manage this!
It starts with James Mason as Isaac of York riding through the thick woods of England that are as omnipresent in film as Anthony Andrews and John Rhys-Davies are to the miniseries, so guess who's about to show up? Isaac is pulled off his horse by hooded Anthony Andrews as Ivanhoe. Wilfred is actually helping Isaac, because the Knights headed by Front de Boeuf (John Rhys-Davies) are lurking about looking for Jewish Isaac (ah, okay, I see a prejudice in common, but James does it no favors by invoking a Jewish cadence that pegs him as...well...as James Mason after a vaction in Poland circa 1927).
Isaac repays Wilfred by giving him the horse and lance he needs to participate in a nearby fair. Front de Boeuf is already there, looking villainous, as is Brian de Bois-Guilbert (Sam Neill), praying and De Bracy (Stuart Wilson). Watching the tournament: Cedric (Michael Hordern), Prince John (Ronald Pickup), Rebecca (Olivia Hussey) and Lady Rowena (Lysette Anthony), the pretty blonde Saxon, which doesn't sound so pretty when Isaac spits out the words scornfully. The rules are read, much ado is made about choosing a lady for the joust and then we're off. So far, so good. Twelve minutes in and we have some action. Jousts are always exciting, and mercifully short. When Ivanhoe makes his appearance, his daddy Cedric refuses to get worked up since he's disowned him. It's equally bad news for the three winners so far because Ivanhoe is a native Saxon against the three Normans. He knocks Front de Boeuf to the ground. The other two go down also and Ivanhoe is the winner, allowed to pick the fair's queen, Lady Rowena, looking so dewy it's impossible.
The decision is also much to the chagrin of poor Rebecca (hey, in her career, Olivia got Romeo and God's seed, so she did okay in the end). She whines to her father, Isaac, that not all Christians are bad, and then in comes Ivanhoe to repay the debt to her father. Isaac refuses all money since Ivanhoe saved his life. He still has no eyes for Rebecca. Ditsy Rowena did not realize Ivanhoe under his helmet at the joust as her true love, even though her father has promised to Athelstone (Michael Gothard). Rowena's fool Wamba (George Innes) speaks in riddles that go over her head, trying to help her figure it out.
Day Two of the fair. Now the guys get to do hand-to-hand combat (though knives are not allowed). Ivanhoe wins this too and though injured, finally reveals himself to Rowena, who presents him that day's crown honor. He promptly passes out, though it may be from the terrible acting of Lady Rowena, and no one will help him. Not his father, who abjectly refuses. Rebecca begs Isaac to help, but he wants no parts of a Christian, but he relents. As for the knights who lost, they are worried that the return of Ivanhoe means King Richard isn't far behind, on his way back from the Crusades, which means Prince John and the rest of them are out of business (indeed, he is lurking not far away).
Rebecca nurses Ivanhoe back to life, using herbs "passed down from the days of Solomon." They are leaving and want to take Ivanhoe with them, but he refuses. Not because they are Jews, as Rebecca wonders, but because he doesn't want to "inconvenience" them. Geez, our hero is just too damn good, isn't he?
At the banquet, Prince John tries to toast to Cedric's son Ivanhoe, but Cedric refuses. He want his married his ward Rowena to Athelstone, a drunkard. He further sticks his foot in dog doo by toasting King Richard, the only Norman he'll drink to, Saxon he is to the core. Isaac and Rebecca have taken Ivanhoe to York and Prince John finds out King Richard is back in England, so he and his evil knights are off to York as well.
Isaac and Rebecca's caravan is stopped when their men desert them, fearing forest bandits, and take all the horses. Ivanhoe is barely coherent, so things are not looking good for this bedraggled threesome. Isaac then nags God for heaping this horror upon them, nailing in more annoying behavior. Who should happen upon them? Cedric and Rowena, of course! Cedric refuses to deal with Jews, but Rebecca makes an impassioned plea for the patient, whom she says is an old person who cannot make it otherwise. Rowena steps in and begs Cedric, who finally agrees. "So be it. They travel in the rear," he says.
The Norman knights overtake the party, with De Bracy promised Rowena. Brian gets all lovesick for Rebecca, despite her being an "infidel," and still no one bothers to look under the cover of the sick bed, believing it to be the old lady Rebecca says it is. So, the Saxons and the Jews are taken to Front de Boeuf's castle where De Bracy finally looks under the cover, but allows them in anyway. I guess it's better to keep one's enemies close.
Wampa has managed to escape being taken prisoner and he's found by King Richard, who now knows where everyone is, but unfortunately he's soon captured himself...by Robin Hood (David Robb) and his band of merry men! Friar Tuck (Tony Haygarth) is drunk in a fun way. They agree to help set the captives free.
Cedric sputters in captivity, unable to chew the scenery only because it's supposed to be stone, Athlestone wants a drink and Rowena plays the tough dame (though not very well) to De Bracy. De Bracy isn't such a bad catch. Sure, he has bad taste in friends (especially Front de Boeuf, as done by John Rhys-Davies with his usual too-big-for-television bluster) and he threatens her with Ivanhoe's life, but he seems the least noxious of the Normans. "The fate of all depends on your decision," De Bracy tells Rowena, who, let's face it, isn't smart enough to get out of this blackmail plot.
Brian still wants Rebecca, but not to marry her. "Not if you were the Queen of Sheba!" No, no. He only wants to have sex with her, but she threatens to spread the word that a Knight Templar has had his way with a Jewess. He offers to make her his mistress, which she reacts to by almost jumping out the window. Brian agrees to a truce, at least temporarily.
In the battle of overacting, Front de Boeuf wants Isaac's money or else he'll torture him to death. Isaac doesn't have the money, so he tells Front de Boeuf to send Rebecca to go fetch the money, but Front de Boeuf that he's already "given her" to Brian. Isaac goes into an act that would make the worst Shylock groan, and Front de Boeuf orders grand torture to start. In the nick of time, a note arrives that is more important. "I will be back," Front de Boeuf huffs, meaning we can only hope for another scene as maddeningly wacky as this one. The letter is "in the Saxon hands" and it's a letter of defiance to the three knights. It demands the prisoners delivered to the letter writer in an hour, causing maniacal laughs from the villains, which are immediately quenched by the signature of Robin Hood. This frightens even Front de Boeuf, who blames Brian, though his and De Bracy's soldiers are the ones far off in York. The reply letter says they will simply kill the prisoners, unless a man of God is sent to them to hear confession. Friar Tuck refuses to go, so they dress up Wamba (who retains his fool's hat under his cowl).
We've been lacking our leading man for a long time, but he finally wakes up. He's weak, but he wants to help. Rebecca says they are locked in from the outside, but if he can just find out if Rowena is okay, that will do for now. He talks of how much he loves Rowena, asking her if she's ever loved like that. Of course she has, she loves him, but she says no. He digs the knife in deeper, by saying he can't understand how someone as wonderful as she is can be single. He forgets she's a Jewess? Her olive make-up doesn't remind him?
Mamba arrives as the friar, knowing only one Latin phrase, and finding it hard to drop his fool schtick. He reveals himself to Cedric, offering his clothes to Cedric so he can escape and Wamba will die in his place. Cedric wants Wamba to instead switch clothes with Athlestone, a prospect Wamba and Athlestone both refuse, so Cedric it is. Cedric gets to the door of the castle, almost to freedom, when Front de Boeuf stops him, but his disguise is not undone. Instead, Front de Boeuf gives him his plans! Idiotic Cedric can't resist revealing himself as he runs off, and no one bothers to chase him. Front de Boeuf is furious, but Athlestone is willing to make a deal. He'll help if he and the fool are freed...oh, and Rowena (so bland she slipped his mind the first time around). That turns out to be a sticking point, so it looks like we have a battle on our hands!
The battle is mainly a ballet of the howling extras, though King Richard does kill Front de Beouf. Ivanhoe watches from the window and wishes to be at Richard's side, but doesn't do anything to make it happen. Rebecca wonders why the English love to fight. Ivanhoe gives a rah-rah speech about glory and chivalry that almost has her hooked until his wound flares up again. Rebecca says she would only fight to get the Holy Land back. The Jews will have to wait in line for that since the Christians and Muslims are already fighting for it. But wait! This has an effect on Ivanhoe who lovingly kisses Rebecca and vows never to forget her. She's far more memorable than Rowena, but we know they won't end up together!
Robin and company make it through the door (there's not moat, a moat would have helped). De Bracy is pinned down by Richard and spares his life to get to Ivanhoe. Brian gets there first and abducts Rebecca. Everyone but Ivanhoe is fighting now, even Athlestone, though he's wounded. Ivanhoe is rescued by King Richard and whisked off to Robin's camp. Cedric can only think about where Athlestone is, and no one hears the whimpering man only feet away, under a downed pile of hay.
In camp, King Richard frees De Bracy, telling him to leave England under penalty of death. You see, he's a good king. He gets even more chaste by saying he's learned so much from watching the Saxons fight. And then AGAIN when he protects Isaac from Friar Tuck by punching him out in a bit of comedy. How much tolerance can we learn in ten minutes? Apparently enough to build a nation upon.
King Richard also decides to reconcile Ivanhoe and his father, which may be more complicated than fixing the Christian-Jewish problem or the Norman-Saxon problem.
Isaac and Friar Tuck go off to the palace of the Knights Templar, where they have just been discussing how Rebecca must have bewitched Brian. The Grand Master (Philip Locke) questions Isaac, insisting that Rebecca is a witch and has Brian under a spell. He feeds it by confessing that Rebecca is a "healer." The Grand Master takes that to mean sorcery, even though Isaac means nursing. Semantics are going to keep this plot going? The Grand Master, looking enough like a Klan member to bring that whole prejudice connection going between 1194 and 1982. Brian is told Rebecca must be burned, and now suddenly Brian wants her life saved. All he has to do is cast her off, which leads to Rebecca's trial in front of The Grand Master.
King Richard and Ivanhoe leave Robin Hood, but not revealing his identity, though Robin Hood has revealed his. Richard tells him he knew anyway. Obviously he's read the books, watched the movies, seen the shows. I mean, who the hell doesn't know Robin Hood? DUH! Our godly Richard notes to Ivanhoe that he cannot reveal himself until peace is brought to the kingdom, i.e. the Normans and Saxons film an "I'd like to teach the world to sing" Coca-Cola commercial holding hands.
Rebecca has a trial, but it's obviously rigged against her. If she does not come up with a champion quickly, she will be put to death. Anyone care to guess who will be her champion? Anyone who hasn't read the book, that is. \
At Cedric's palace, King Richard reveals himself and promises "equal protection" for Normans and Saxons (playing again on familiar wording) if he will forgive Ivanhoe. That was easy! We're racing to conclusion here, aren't we. However, Cedric refuses to give Rowena's hand to Ivanhoe until two years of mourning are completed.
Cue Athlestone, alive. He willingly pays homage to King Richard and gives Rowena gladly to Ivanhoe because he knows she's never loved him and he's never loved her. "I implore you, can we eat at last?" he says, having taken care of a whole lot of business in the matter of two minutes.
It's a busy palace, this one. Isaac shows up to ask Ivanhoe to champion his daughter and off he goes, though not before giving a chaste little kiss to Rowena, who has just been reunited with him. Damn you, Sir Walter Scott and your plotting! Damn you!
With butter doing anything but melting in her mouth, Rebecca is paid a visit by Brian, offering to save her and ride off to the Holy Land with her, but she refuses and he pretends he doesn't love her. Like she needs him? Ivanhoe is on his way.
Remember Prince John? He has no soldiers left and King Richard is fast approaching. Front de Boeuf is dead, Brian cannot help and De Bracy is sticking to his promise to King Richard to leave England. Even Prince John's most loyal vassal hies to the priesthood in fear.
Unless you have ever read an adventure or romance novel, you will know that as Rebecca is tied to a pole atop a pyre, she's not REALLY going to die. The Grand Master calls for her champion and no one comes forward. The Grand Master puts off the burning for an hour. Brian tries to get Rebecca to run away with him, she refuses, and then he begs her to renounce her faith. She refuses that too. It's going to be a looooooong hour atop that pyre. Well, not that long, because the hour passes literally in five seconds.
Ah, here comes Ivanhoe, riding in just as the fire was to be applied to the pyre (yes, a fire pyre, all of you Sondheim fans). Ivanhoe not only defends her, but denounces Brian and offers to fight him. Before these two cocks go off to fight, Rebecca must accept Ivanhoe as her champion. Like she's in a position to refuse him? Okay, now they can fight. Ivanhoe has bested Brian twice with a lance, so this isn't likely to be very full of suspense. Ivanhoe is knocked off his horse, which means combat with swords. The Grand Master as his fey but talkative assistant all but snort fire as they hope for Brian's success. At first, it seems to be going his way, because Ivanhoe is still weak. Robin Hood and his men are hiding behind the trees, willing to help, of course, but it's been decreed that no one may interfere with this fight. They don't have to. Brian looks at Rebecca and holds the gaze a bit too long, giving Ivanhoe the chance to run him through with a sword.
King Richard arrives in his kingly robes with Prince John in tow and banishes the Grand Master and the rest of the Knights Templar. Off they go. Robin Hood and Friar Tuck are a little ashamed they didn't realize who he was. Richard pronounces complete equality between Saxons and Normans, as he promised.
We need a wedding! Though Ivanhoe loves Rebecca, he loves Rowena more, so it's Rowena he marries. Rebecca goes to Rowena to say her goodbyes, since she and her father are going off to Spain to seek religious freedom. Wow, there's irony for you! The Inquisition never got even a foothold in England, but in Spain, it was a grand success for all but the Jews.
Off Rebecca and Isaac go, as Ivanhoe looks longingly. He has is bland blonde, he's not changing his mind.
Monday, January 10, 2011
The Far Pavilions (1984)
More cheating. "The Far Pavilions" aired on HBO in 1984, the cable network's first miniseries. However, it's an HBO miniseries in name only. It follows all the conventions of a network miniseries to the letter, setting a high standard of quality for coming HBO miniseries, but not at all setting a format. I don't mean that in a judging way, just a statement of fact. HBO would go on to reshape the miniseries format to suit the needs of its subscribers, but in 1984, it was merely doing what network television was doing, giving us lush romantic escapism through the miniseries.
It's 1865, during the Raj in India. Over the credits, we are shown a lot of history. A young British boy is orphaned, but raised as an Indian, servant to a ruler and friend of an adorable little princess there with whom he splits the pieces of a necklace. Killing a snake in the boy ruler's room one night, our hero is branded by the men who had put the snake in the bed to kill the boy ruler and then escapes to The Commandant (Robert Hardy, not playing Winston Churchill, for a change), who sends him to London.
He returns to India as Ash (Ben Cross), traveling with George Garforth (Rupert Everett). Ash is part of a native regiment, while George is part of a commercial house. Ash is welcomed by Indians, which baffles his traveling companions, who find it baffling. You see, the British fobs in India don't think well of the Indians, especially since "The Mutiny" that caused so much fear. Ash has trouble convincing them that India actually belongs to the Indians and not the British. Ash goes to his Indian friends, asking "for this night, let me be Ashook again." You see the conflict coming? Do you? You do, right?
On the journey to northern India, Ash regales his English compatriots with his history, getting insults hurled at him by George and the ladies, except for starry-eyed Belinda Harlowe (Felicity Dean). He returns to The Commandant for his orders, which include training a native troupe, but not "getting too close" to his men. He makes a jolly good time of it and even earns the respect of his men, but is a tough boss too. The Commandant has his worries because the men love him so much. "Let's hope he never has to choose between them and us," he snarls, hitting us with the coming conflict in case we missed it with the Brit nit wits in the earlier scenes.
There is another, more subtle, conflict in Ash. He was raised both Hindu and Muslim, so he "prays to the mountains" as his divine spirit, and we see him do it too. How many worlds can the poor guy straddle?
Ash goes to a British ball, with eyes only for Belinda, for whom he has competition in George. Ash wins the attention of his pretty blonde, though to the dismay of her mother. His way of getting in close with Belinda is to tell her yet more of his history, which is more for us than her, I suppose. Belinda luckily spares us too much in the way of maudlin memory by suggesting another dance. Not to worry, the memories come back on an otherwise lovely outing to tour the sights. He does shut up long enough at one point to kiss her, which of course she's been waiting for. A problem awaits Ash when he applies for permission to marry Belinda, but The Commandant refuses to give permission until Ash is 30 because "that's how long it takes to learn your trade!" He is then sent to the mountains to collect taxes, which he does with spit spot efficiency.
In a flash, Ash receives the news that Belinda is to be married to Sir Ambrose, a man old enough to be her father, though she denies that. "He gives me such lovely presents," she says, turning mercenary, which gets worse a moment later when she tells him they have turned George from their house because his mother was (get ready to gasp) a "half-caste!" Add to that a slap to the face from her and Ash stalks off to find George, drunk with loyal Mrs. Viccary (Jennifer Kendal), friend to all. George is now ignored by society, at least the part that knows. He's worried that everyone will find out and asks what Ash would do if everyone found out. Ash jokes, "I would shoot myself." I know, I know, subtlety is not the watchword here. To give credit to the writing, a scene is placed between Ash's advice and when he finds out George has followed it. Ash is so angry, he goes up to the mountains to live with the Indians who raised him.
It's a harsh life, in a cold climate and with only variations of ugly colors to look at, to make sure we understand what a harsh life it is. There are rival clans constantly trying to knock each other off, seemingly for the purpose of collecting rifles from dead bodies. Those rifles belong to the army, and Ash brings them all back, which puts the army in a bit of a bind. Though he's a "frontier hero," he also has to be reprimanded for deserting and doing it on his own. Ash is very valuable with the trust of the natives, so it's decided to keep him in the army but send him to another regiment, one where he has no friends.
He's sent to Wally (Benedict Taylor), a chipper handsome blond who sings because he's in love with a girl from his voyage who has tossed him out for an older man, causing an instant bond. Only Wally can make poetry out of it. Ash and Wally become such good friends that yet more crusty British officers have a reason to hate him, starting rumors that perhaps there is more to the relationship than just abiding friendship. Over the course of three years, they do become good friends, despite Wally's constant sicknesses (he has a boil on his bum at one point).
Ash takes Wally up to his beloved mountains where Wally sees the branding on Ash's chest. Hey, if Belinda isn't around to listen to Ash's past, Wally is. He is reminded of the lovely princess, who is actually one quarter Russian. "God knows where she is now," he says. Guess what, folks, she's in the next scene! Meet grown-up Anjuli (Amy Irving, done up in heavy dark make-up, and not at all convincing as three-quarters anything, let alone Indian!). She's still in the palace, though the new boy ruler is a pain-in-the-ass schemer.
Following that is a long scene where Ash chews out a bunch of officers and visitors in the club, which pisses off the guys who had him down as a homosexual previously. They are worried that his ideas will poison the minds of others, so the arrange to play a trick on him while he sleeps. However, he manages to subdue the entire bunch of them, with some assist from Wally and their own incompetence (this scene plays like a Matt Sennett homage).
Due to the fight, Ash is sent to escort two brides to their husbands (Anjuli being one of them, coincidentally), finally bringing our long-lost never-got-to-be-lovers together again after a huge amount of time. The first friendly face he sees is Koda Dad (Omar Sharif), the man who raised him and whom he calls father. He's Master of Horse and fills Ash in on all that has gone on in his absence. "How did you not know these things?" Koda asks, understandably (I was wondering the same thing). His excuse is he was too angry to be paying attention.
Ash gets his chance to see Anjuli under the most heroic of circumstances. Anjuli is riding along and there is a crack in the earth that almost causes her to fall down a mountain (okay, it's a hill and doesn't look very dangerous). Ash rushes in and saves her and her fellow princess, though Anjuli tries to avoid looking at him. The other princess is so shocked by the experience that they have to make camp for two days. Princess Shushila (Sneh Gupta) and her caretaker Kaka-ji (Christopher Lee) are at odds because Shushila wants to have fun, which is "not seemly" according to him. As for Anjuli, she's still wearing her half of the necklace, but doesn't seem to recognize her beloved Ash until she realizes he has the other half.
She shows up at his tent, breaking all rules of protocol and good manners. This has to be the least romantic reuniting scene in miniseries history. She's afraid for his safety and he's afraid for her honor and they speak in codes, stupid since they are the only ones in the tent. She fills in her part of the narrative in the now-expected laziness of bulk monologue. She claims not to recognize him, which is downright bizarre at this point, but it actually happens and she bursts into heaving sobs.
The Prince's younger brother shows up with Ash's nemesis, Biju Ram (Saeed Jaffray), the man who branded him. But, that only takes a second before Kaka-ji has to bore us with his backstory, his love for a half-caste, Anjuli's mother. I know the book is dense and beautiful, with so many wonderful plot strands, but unfortunately, like Michener and Clavell learned, some have to be cut.
Against warnings, the little Prince Jhoti goes riding alone on a wild horse, causing everyone to chase him. They stop the prince from going over a cliff, but unfortunately Ash is injured in the melee. Koda Dad is the happiest of all to see his adopted son return to life, but also shows Ash that horse did not bolt on accident. Someone is out to get the little prince. Is it his jealous older brother? Kaka-ji won't let Ash think such a thing. Is it Biju Ram, who is supposedly out of favor with the main prince?
Ash and Anjuli get to have a heart-to-heart since he's bed-bound in a tent. I would like to say there is chemistry between Ben Cross and Amy Irving, but it's too soon for that. It's still hard to get used to Amy playing an Indian princess. Ah, 1984, before political correctness invaded pop culture.
Unfortunately, Biju Ram knows it was Anjuli in Ash's tent and Ash suspects Biju Ram is behind the plot to kill the prince. Ash runs his theory across Koda Dad and also confesses his love for Anjuli and his desire for them to marry and escape everything. It's not a wise move, he's warned, but this is, above all, a romance tale, though cloaked in exotica and daring-do. Unfortunately, their budding love leads us smack into one of the hoariest of the miniseries traps: the slow motion montage. Ah, yes, our lovers go riding on their horses slow enough so that you can pop in a microwave dinner, wait for it, and still be back in time to arrive for the next line of dialogue. To cap it off, they have another heart-to-heart that goes in for heavy exposition. It's mercifully cut short by a gigantic sandstorm.
Now this I can get into. Here we have the adventure part of the story that has been sorely lacking so far. Oh, for crying out loud! The lovers escape into a cave in mere moments and finally get the chance to have their clinch. "Oh, my love, love me. Love me now," Anjuli says before they press their lips together and have a dimly lit sex scene right there in the cave. It's a long one too, and not even in slow motion. "I never meant this to happen," Ash says after they are done. "I did," Anjuli replies. She's wanted it forever. She knows she can now be married off, having known love, but he wants to run away with her. Since the movie is only half over, we have to invent excuses why this is not possible, such as "I can't leave Shushila. "If I'm not there to comfort her and love her, she will die." Oh, please! Let the selfish sister go and stay with the hunky man who loves you!
Anjuli has thought of everything, answering every question he has as a way to keep her. Yes, she can pretend she's a virgin for the man she will marry. Yes, she will keep his baby if she gets pregnant and raise it as a prince. Actually, she has a walloping grandiose speech about how much she would love that potential child and then insists they return to the others. Overwritten? You bet. Badly acted? You bet. But, these are the slings and arrows of outrageous romances. Luckily, it's Kaku-ji who finds the lovers and has a story all prepared for when they reach camp and have to explain where they have been. He knows full well what happened.
Pondering his fate at night, Ash is shot at by Biju Ram with his very own pistol. Biju Ram explains that his servant had stolen the guy and Biju Ram wanted to make sure it worked before he returned it, thinking Ash was an animal. All of this time, apparently, Biju Ram hasn't realized that Ash is the kid he tried to kill years ago! They have a fight and Biju Ram dies, but Ash manages to make it look like a cobra bite. There is only one button left near the body to prove that Ash was there...
Our army arrives in Bhithor, but it's not a welcoming place. First off, they are forced to camp outside the city walls in an indefensible position, which doesn't sit well with Ash, but Kaku-ji tells him to accept it. Then they find out the marriage contract needs to be redone. That means having to meat the Rana of Bhitor (Rossano Brazzi, looking more Indian than Amy Irving, but sounding more Italian than Sophia Loren).
So, now come the negotiations. One sticking point is Anjuli's age. The Rana thinks she's too old and unless her dowry is tripled, a sneaky way of making a ton of money, since she can't be send home; that would be a disgrace. Ash tells her, in a very impassioned speech, but Anjuli refuses to leave her sister in the clutches of the Rana, another of those roadblocks stuck in their way that has many a solution around it if they would bother to consider any. Right in front of old Kaku-ji, the two kiss big, with the whole violin section going hog wild. He chews Ash out a bit for causing Anjuli pain by loving her and then, to be polite, falls on his own sword a bit for his "negligence and folly."
Ash decides to move the caravan out, a dicey proposition as they are in a valley surrounded by forts on mountains that communicate with each other by flashing light off mirrors (it's 1865, pre-Twitter, so we have to accept there is no better way). When the Rana's soldiers go into the camp with guns, it gives Ash an excuse to threaten the Rana, telling him it's an act of war against the government and unless the princesses are received under the original contract, he will tell the army, who will depose the Rana and send him into exile. It's a ballsy move, but it forces the Rana's hand. Well, kind of, since the Rana gives the other side a palace to stay in that they have to pay for.
Using the lion's share of the budget, we're treated to a supremely long wedding ceremony. There are extra a-plenty, elephants, fire, food, gold, Hindu priests, acres of silk clothing, and a glowering Ash standing high above the ceremony all but putting a curse on the whole damn thing. He tells Koda Dad his "heart is breaking," which sucks because the festivities go on for a whopping three days. That means many more extras, now dancing, and a ton more glowering. As a last humiliation, Ash is forced to watch as Anjuli leaves with her new husband in the finale of the budget-blowing cavalcade.
Meanwhile, war has broken out in Afghanistan, and it's a bloody one. Our delightful blond Wally, too much missed, surveys the carnage with blood stains liberally applied to make it look like he was part of the action (remember, the budget is was spent on the damn wedding, so now we have to tighten our belts). He's part of a small retinue that has survived.
This brings the British further into Afghanistan and John Gielgud as Major Cavagnari (hey, at least he's not playing Indian) with them. Though the British did not win the battle, Cavagnari forces the Afgans to accept a British mission in their country too, at the threat of toppling the government and setting up a puppet government.
Ash and Wally are reunited, but Ash is gloomy over his lost princess, and in case you missed the last few hours, he fills Wally in on what happened in a few sentences. Ash gets even more depressing as he tells an optimistic Wally that the British are merely doing in Afghanistan what they did in India and it causes a rift between the two. Little Wally stalks off with, "go to hell!" which is about as mean as he gets.
At the Rana's palace, Anjuli thinks only of Ash, spending her scenes staring into space as her maids gossip and Shushila learns how to twist the Rana around her finger to win jewels. She's cut off from her sister and her trusted maid is killed.
Our hero resigns from the army, but with one condition, that he go to Kabul in native dress and spy on things until the British mission leaves. Doesn't sound like much of a resignation, does it? But, Ash doesn't exactly have much else to do. He could pine like Anjuli, but that would make the rest of the movie downright deadly boring, wouldn't it? Plus, it keeps him part of the plot as Cavagnari, with trusty Wally as his military aide, sets up the British mission in Kabul in an enormous palace. There are lots of politics going on, with Cavagnari the ultimate diplomat in wowing the Emir of Afghanistan with trinkets like clocks in appeasing him so that he doesn't realize he's losing his country. He even slings that BS at his own people, and since he's John Gielgud, they believe it.
Ash had predicted that the army would look to the British to pay back wages, though Cavagnari disagrees. He's wrong. Seemingly the entire male population of Afghanistan storms the British mission, where Wally has ordered that no one fire on them without his permission. At first, there is simply just a lot of fist pumping and yelling, but Cavagnari thinks he can halt the mob with a few well-chosen words, telling them he has no reason to pay them; it's an internal dispute for their Emir to handle. His words appease them for about 10 minutes before they are storming back through the barricades and Wally is leading the defense (with a pistol). Cavagnari is wounded, but is more concerned about the blood on his shirt and sends a man to get him a new one. Unfortunately, he takes another bullet, dirtying another shirt. He doesn't ask for a third shirt because he dies.
Wally, who once again looks fetching in combat, and who can kill anyone with his pistol without actually aiming, has barely enough soldiers left to defend the mission, but insists on fighting on, in slow motion so Ash can watch him die and then get shot himself. He's okay, but before he leaves the decimated mission, he, with the help of the whole violin section again, carries Wally's body to a cannon, placing it there and draping a Union Jack over him. Awwwwww.
This whole last section, with politics barely explained and a rather wan battle scene, is only a distraction from the main love plot. Ash returns to Koda Dad to find out that the Rana is dying and, as custom, his wives will be burned with his body. Ash asks everyone for help, but he is turned down. Even the telegraph operator won't help, but not to worry, there's a trusty carrier pigeon that aids communication (what, no mirrors?). Ash races to the Rana's palace, to be informed that the Rana is expected to die that very day.
The conflict is back. You see, it's custom to burn the wives of a dead ruler and if Ash tries to stop it, the people will rebel. Ash threatens to bring the Raj, but everyone knows they won't help. "I will let you know when I have worked out a plan that will succeed," Ash tells his pals petulantly. Hmmm, should he respect the customs of the people who raised him or spit on them by the people who birthed him? A half a scene later, he realizes there is no plan that will work, so he throws his arm around his chum and says, "let's go eat, I'm starving." Boy, he gives up awfully easily!
No, no! A meal and a touching story by a servant later, he's determined again to rescue his beloved.
And then Rana dies, loudly, so Brazzi can have one last moment to ham it up (it's a small part, but don't tell him that). Ash joins the massive crowd of mourners drooling over the prospect of watching the pyre. The next scene goes to Shushila and Anjuli, where Shushila reveals that she's jealous of her half-sister and has caused her all the pain at the palace. Shushila refuses to let Anjuli burn on the pyre and "defile the Rana's ashes." But, just when you think that's the escape clause, Shushila says she's made "other arrangements." Just what that means, she doesn't say, but it gives hope to Ash. Now, come on! Do you think Shushila is going to let Anjuli off that easily?
Plus, we know how devoted Anjuli is to custom, and when Ash shows up to rescue her, she refuses to go. She has found out that Shushila's plan is to have Anjuli's eyes poked out after having seen her die with the Rana's body. That is the ultimate revenge, but Anjuli would rather do that than escape with Ash. For crying out loud! But, to satisfy him, she will allow him to shoot her sister dead once the pyre starts going to spare her the fear of burning alive. Once that happens, Ash and Anjuli hightail it out of the palace.
Eternal happiness does not come so quickly. It's discovered that Anjuli has escaped and a posse is sent after them. Anjuli's horse is shot out from underneath her, but she is safe. Ash leaves her with his trust men and goes back to fight. He promises Anjuli he will return with giant kiss. Ash, Koda Dan and a doctor get to fight the army sent after them. What ensues is a fight straight out of the American West, with Ash as the fast shot who can pick off four men with one pistol before they can aim their rifles. Though they rout the army, the doctor dies and Koda Dan is mortally wounded. Ash leaves him to die and goes off into the mountains, the Far Pavilions as they are called, with Anjuli.
"The Far Pavilions" is fine as romance, terrible as adventure. The adventure parts (battles, crumbling mountains and such) look cheap and are so tied to the kind of backstory politics that work well in a book but badly on screen. The romance is better, but only because Ben Cross gives all he has. Amy Irving is never believable as an Indian princess, and her robotic devotion to custom wears awfully thin, so that by the end, one just wishes she would have followed the customs and let her beloved find a new gal. Even the guest stars fail to register. Rossano Brazzi has nothing to do, John Gielgud is around only for a few minutes, Omar Sharif is, well, Omar Sharif. Christopher Lee, as ridiculous as an Indian as Amy Irving, is majestic enough for the part, but it's not much of a part.
The exotic locale and breathless story should have been a no-brainer for a miniseries in 1984, but "The Far Pavilions" presents a problem: there is no clear sense of good and evil. Just when you think everything Indian is good and everything British evil, the story shows us how cruel the native customs can be (not that the British had any right to meddle). An epic like this needs to have heroes and villains who are uncomplicated, unless it is so well written that the lack of moral clarity can be made acceptable. The writing here is way too hackneyed for that, so ultimately we're provided with merely an eye-popping spectacle, pretty to look at, but empty of heart.
It's 1865, during the Raj in India. Over the credits, we are shown a lot of history. A young British boy is orphaned, but raised as an Indian, servant to a ruler and friend of an adorable little princess there with whom he splits the pieces of a necklace. Killing a snake in the boy ruler's room one night, our hero is branded by the men who had put the snake in the bed to kill the boy ruler and then escapes to The Commandant (Robert Hardy, not playing Winston Churchill, for a change), who sends him to London.
He returns to India as Ash (Ben Cross), traveling with George Garforth (Rupert Everett). Ash is part of a native regiment, while George is part of a commercial house. Ash is welcomed by Indians, which baffles his traveling companions, who find it baffling. You see, the British fobs in India don't think well of the Indians, especially since "The Mutiny" that caused so much fear. Ash has trouble convincing them that India actually belongs to the Indians and not the British. Ash goes to his Indian friends, asking "for this night, let me be Ashook again." You see the conflict coming? Do you? You do, right?
On the journey to northern India, Ash regales his English compatriots with his history, getting insults hurled at him by George and the ladies, except for starry-eyed Belinda Harlowe (Felicity Dean). He returns to The Commandant for his orders, which include training a native troupe, but not "getting too close" to his men. He makes a jolly good time of it and even earns the respect of his men, but is a tough boss too. The Commandant has his worries because the men love him so much. "Let's hope he never has to choose between them and us," he snarls, hitting us with the coming conflict in case we missed it with the Brit nit wits in the earlier scenes.
There is another, more subtle, conflict in Ash. He was raised both Hindu and Muslim, so he "prays to the mountains" as his divine spirit, and we see him do it too. How many worlds can the poor guy straddle?
Ash goes to a British ball, with eyes only for Belinda, for whom he has competition in George. Ash wins the attention of his pretty blonde, though to the dismay of her mother. His way of getting in close with Belinda is to tell her yet more of his history, which is more for us than her, I suppose. Belinda luckily spares us too much in the way of maudlin memory by suggesting another dance. Not to worry, the memories come back on an otherwise lovely outing to tour the sights. He does shut up long enough at one point to kiss her, which of course she's been waiting for. A problem awaits Ash when he applies for permission to marry Belinda, but The Commandant refuses to give permission until Ash is 30 because "that's how long it takes to learn your trade!" He is then sent to the mountains to collect taxes, which he does with spit spot efficiency.
In a flash, Ash receives the news that Belinda is to be married to Sir Ambrose, a man old enough to be her father, though she denies that. "He gives me such lovely presents," she says, turning mercenary, which gets worse a moment later when she tells him they have turned George from their house because his mother was (get ready to gasp) a "half-caste!" Add to that a slap to the face from her and Ash stalks off to find George, drunk with loyal Mrs. Viccary (Jennifer Kendal), friend to all. George is now ignored by society, at least the part that knows. He's worried that everyone will find out and asks what Ash would do if everyone found out. Ash jokes, "I would shoot myself." I know, I know, subtlety is not the watchword here. To give credit to the writing, a scene is placed between Ash's advice and when he finds out George has followed it. Ash is so angry, he goes up to the mountains to live with the Indians who raised him.
It's a harsh life, in a cold climate and with only variations of ugly colors to look at, to make sure we understand what a harsh life it is. There are rival clans constantly trying to knock each other off, seemingly for the purpose of collecting rifles from dead bodies. Those rifles belong to the army, and Ash brings them all back, which puts the army in a bit of a bind. Though he's a "frontier hero," he also has to be reprimanded for deserting and doing it on his own. Ash is very valuable with the trust of the natives, so it's decided to keep him in the army but send him to another regiment, one where he has no friends.
He's sent to Wally (Benedict Taylor), a chipper handsome blond who sings because he's in love with a girl from his voyage who has tossed him out for an older man, causing an instant bond. Only Wally can make poetry out of it. Ash and Wally become such good friends that yet more crusty British officers have a reason to hate him, starting rumors that perhaps there is more to the relationship than just abiding friendship. Over the course of three years, they do become good friends, despite Wally's constant sicknesses (he has a boil on his bum at one point).
Ash takes Wally up to his beloved mountains where Wally sees the branding on Ash's chest. Hey, if Belinda isn't around to listen to Ash's past, Wally is. He is reminded of the lovely princess, who is actually one quarter Russian. "God knows where she is now," he says. Guess what, folks, she's in the next scene! Meet grown-up Anjuli (Amy Irving, done up in heavy dark make-up, and not at all convincing as three-quarters anything, let alone Indian!). She's still in the palace, though the new boy ruler is a pain-in-the-ass schemer.
Following that is a long scene where Ash chews out a bunch of officers and visitors in the club, which pisses off the guys who had him down as a homosexual previously. They are worried that his ideas will poison the minds of others, so the arrange to play a trick on him while he sleeps. However, he manages to subdue the entire bunch of them, with some assist from Wally and their own incompetence (this scene plays like a Matt Sennett homage).
Due to the fight, Ash is sent to escort two brides to their husbands (Anjuli being one of them, coincidentally), finally bringing our long-lost never-got-to-be-lovers together again after a huge amount of time. The first friendly face he sees is Koda Dad (Omar Sharif), the man who raised him and whom he calls father. He's Master of Horse and fills Ash in on all that has gone on in his absence. "How did you not know these things?" Koda asks, understandably (I was wondering the same thing). His excuse is he was too angry to be paying attention.
Ash gets his chance to see Anjuli under the most heroic of circumstances. Anjuli is riding along and there is a crack in the earth that almost causes her to fall down a mountain (okay, it's a hill and doesn't look very dangerous). Ash rushes in and saves her and her fellow princess, though Anjuli tries to avoid looking at him. The other princess is so shocked by the experience that they have to make camp for two days. Princess Shushila (Sneh Gupta) and her caretaker Kaka-ji (Christopher Lee) are at odds because Shushila wants to have fun, which is "not seemly" according to him. As for Anjuli, she's still wearing her half of the necklace, but doesn't seem to recognize her beloved Ash until she realizes he has the other half.
She shows up at his tent, breaking all rules of protocol and good manners. This has to be the least romantic reuniting scene in miniseries history. She's afraid for his safety and he's afraid for her honor and they speak in codes, stupid since they are the only ones in the tent. She fills in her part of the narrative in the now-expected laziness of bulk monologue. She claims not to recognize him, which is downright bizarre at this point, but it actually happens and she bursts into heaving sobs.
The Prince's younger brother shows up with Ash's nemesis, Biju Ram (Saeed Jaffray), the man who branded him. But, that only takes a second before Kaka-ji has to bore us with his backstory, his love for a half-caste, Anjuli's mother. I know the book is dense and beautiful, with so many wonderful plot strands, but unfortunately, like Michener and Clavell learned, some have to be cut.
Against warnings, the little Prince Jhoti goes riding alone on a wild horse, causing everyone to chase him. They stop the prince from going over a cliff, but unfortunately Ash is injured in the melee. Koda Dad is the happiest of all to see his adopted son return to life, but also shows Ash that horse did not bolt on accident. Someone is out to get the little prince. Is it his jealous older brother? Kaka-ji won't let Ash think such a thing. Is it Biju Ram, who is supposedly out of favor with the main prince?
Ash and Anjuli get to have a heart-to-heart since he's bed-bound in a tent. I would like to say there is chemistry between Ben Cross and Amy Irving, but it's too soon for that. It's still hard to get used to Amy playing an Indian princess. Ah, 1984, before political correctness invaded pop culture.
Unfortunately, Biju Ram knows it was Anjuli in Ash's tent and Ash suspects Biju Ram is behind the plot to kill the prince. Ash runs his theory across Koda Dad and also confesses his love for Anjuli and his desire for them to marry and escape everything. It's not a wise move, he's warned, but this is, above all, a romance tale, though cloaked in exotica and daring-do. Unfortunately, their budding love leads us smack into one of the hoariest of the miniseries traps: the slow motion montage. Ah, yes, our lovers go riding on their horses slow enough so that you can pop in a microwave dinner, wait for it, and still be back in time to arrive for the next line of dialogue. To cap it off, they have another heart-to-heart that goes in for heavy exposition. It's mercifully cut short by a gigantic sandstorm.
Now this I can get into. Here we have the adventure part of the story that has been sorely lacking so far. Oh, for crying out loud! The lovers escape into a cave in mere moments and finally get the chance to have their clinch. "Oh, my love, love me. Love me now," Anjuli says before they press their lips together and have a dimly lit sex scene right there in the cave. It's a long one too, and not even in slow motion. "I never meant this to happen," Ash says after they are done. "I did," Anjuli replies. She's wanted it forever. She knows she can now be married off, having known love, but he wants to run away with her. Since the movie is only half over, we have to invent excuses why this is not possible, such as "I can't leave Shushila. "If I'm not there to comfort her and love her, she will die." Oh, please! Let the selfish sister go and stay with the hunky man who loves you!
Anjuli has thought of everything, answering every question he has as a way to keep her. Yes, she can pretend she's a virgin for the man she will marry. Yes, she will keep his baby if she gets pregnant and raise it as a prince. Actually, she has a walloping grandiose speech about how much she would love that potential child and then insists they return to the others. Overwritten? You bet. Badly acted? You bet. But, these are the slings and arrows of outrageous romances. Luckily, it's Kaku-ji who finds the lovers and has a story all prepared for when they reach camp and have to explain where they have been. He knows full well what happened.
Pondering his fate at night, Ash is shot at by Biju Ram with his very own pistol. Biju Ram explains that his servant had stolen the guy and Biju Ram wanted to make sure it worked before he returned it, thinking Ash was an animal. All of this time, apparently, Biju Ram hasn't realized that Ash is the kid he tried to kill years ago! They have a fight and Biju Ram dies, but Ash manages to make it look like a cobra bite. There is only one button left near the body to prove that Ash was there...
Our army arrives in Bhithor, but it's not a welcoming place. First off, they are forced to camp outside the city walls in an indefensible position, which doesn't sit well with Ash, but Kaku-ji tells him to accept it. Then they find out the marriage contract needs to be redone. That means having to meat the Rana of Bhitor (Rossano Brazzi, looking more Indian than Amy Irving, but sounding more Italian than Sophia Loren).
So, now come the negotiations. One sticking point is Anjuli's age. The Rana thinks she's too old and unless her dowry is tripled, a sneaky way of making a ton of money, since she can't be send home; that would be a disgrace. Ash tells her, in a very impassioned speech, but Anjuli refuses to leave her sister in the clutches of the Rana, another of those roadblocks stuck in their way that has many a solution around it if they would bother to consider any. Right in front of old Kaku-ji, the two kiss big, with the whole violin section going hog wild. He chews Ash out a bit for causing Anjuli pain by loving her and then, to be polite, falls on his own sword a bit for his "negligence and folly."
Ash decides to move the caravan out, a dicey proposition as they are in a valley surrounded by forts on mountains that communicate with each other by flashing light off mirrors (it's 1865, pre-Twitter, so we have to accept there is no better way). When the Rana's soldiers go into the camp with guns, it gives Ash an excuse to threaten the Rana, telling him it's an act of war against the government and unless the princesses are received under the original contract, he will tell the army, who will depose the Rana and send him into exile. It's a ballsy move, but it forces the Rana's hand. Well, kind of, since the Rana gives the other side a palace to stay in that they have to pay for.
Using the lion's share of the budget, we're treated to a supremely long wedding ceremony. There are extra a-plenty, elephants, fire, food, gold, Hindu priests, acres of silk clothing, and a glowering Ash standing high above the ceremony all but putting a curse on the whole damn thing. He tells Koda Dad his "heart is breaking," which sucks because the festivities go on for a whopping three days. That means many more extras, now dancing, and a ton more glowering. As a last humiliation, Ash is forced to watch as Anjuli leaves with her new husband in the finale of the budget-blowing cavalcade.
Meanwhile, war has broken out in Afghanistan, and it's a bloody one. Our delightful blond Wally, too much missed, surveys the carnage with blood stains liberally applied to make it look like he was part of the action (remember, the budget is was spent on the damn wedding, so now we have to tighten our belts). He's part of a small retinue that has survived.
This brings the British further into Afghanistan and John Gielgud as Major Cavagnari (hey, at least he's not playing Indian) with them. Though the British did not win the battle, Cavagnari forces the Afgans to accept a British mission in their country too, at the threat of toppling the government and setting up a puppet government.
Ash and Wally are reunited, but Ash is gloomy over his lost princess, and in case you missed the last few hours, he fills Wally in on what happened in a few sentences. Ash gets even more depressing as he tells an optimistic Wally that the British are merely doing in Afghanistan what they did in India and it causes a rift between the two. Little Wally stalks off with, "go to hell!" which is about as mean as he gets.
At the Rana's palace, Anjuli thinks only of Ash, spending her scenes staring into space as her maids gossip and Shushila learns how to twist the Rana around her finger to win jewels. She's cut off from her sister and her trusted maid is killed.
Our hero resigns from the army, but with one condition, that he go to Kabul in native dress and spy on things until the British mission leaves. Doesn't sound like much of a resignation, does it? But, Ash doesn't exactly have much else to do. He could pine like Anjuli, but that would make the rest of the movie downright deadly boring, wouldn't it? Plus, it keeps him part of the plot as Cavagnari, with trusty Wally as his military aide, sets up the British mission in Kabul in an enormous palace. There are lots of politics going on, with Cavagnari the ultimate diplomat in wowing the Emir of Afghanistan with trinkets like clocks in appeasing him so that he doesn't realize he's losing his country. He even slings that BS at his own people, and since he's John Gielgud, they believe it.
Ash had predicted that the army would look to the British to pay back wages, though Cavagnari disagrees. He's wrong. Seemingly the entire male population of Afghanistan storms the British mission, where Wally has ordered that no one fire on them without his permission. At first, there is simply just a lot of fist pumping and yelling, but Cavagnari thinks he can halt the mob with a few well-chosen words, telling them he has no reason to pay them; it's an internal dispute for their Emir to handle. His words appease them for about 10 minutes before they are storming back through the barricades and Wally is leading the defense (with a pistol). Cavagnari is wounded, but is more concerned about the blood on his shirt and sends a man to get him a new one. Unfortunately, he takes another bullet, dirtying another shirt. He doesn't ask for a third shirt because he dies.
Wally, who once again looks fetching in combat, and who can kill anyone with his pistol without actually aiming, has barely enough soldiers left to defend the mission, but insists on fighting on, in slow motion so Ash can watch him die and then get shot himself. He's okay, but before he leaves the decimated mission, he, with the help of the whole violin section again, carries Wally's body to a cannon, placing it there and draping a Union Jack over him. Awwwwww.
This whole last section, with politics barely explained and a rather wan battle scene, is only a distraction from the main love plot. Ash returns to Koda Dad to find out that the Rana is dying and, as custom, his wives will be burned with his body. Ash asks everyone for help, but he is turned down. Even the telegraph operator won't help, but not to worry, there's a trusty carrier pigeon that aids communication (what, no mirrors?). Ash races to the Rana's palace, to be informed that the Rana is expected to die that very day.
The conflict is back. You see, it's custom to burn the wives of a dead ruler and if Ash tries to stop it, the people will rebel. Ash threatens to bring the Raj, but everyone knows they won't help. "I will let you know when I have worked out a plan that will succeed," Ash tells his pals petulantly. Hmmm, should he respect the customs of the people who raised him or spit on them by the people who birthed him? A half a scene later, he realizes there is no plan that will work, so he throws his arm around his chum and says, "let's go eat, I'm starving." Boy, he gives up awfully easily!
No, no! A meal and a touching story by a servant later, he's determined again to rescue his beloved.
And then Rana dies, loudly, so Brazzi can have one last moment to ham it up (it's a small part, but don't tell him that). Ash joins the massive crowd of mourners drooling over the prospect of watching the pyre. The next scene goes to Shushila and Anjuli, where Shushila reveals that she's jealous of her half-sister and has caused her all the pain at the palace. Shushila refuses to let Anjuli burn on the pyre and "defile the Rana's ashes." But, just when you think that's the escape clause, Shushila says she's made "other arrangements." Just what that means, she doesn't say, but it gives hope to Ash. Now, come on! Do you think Shushila is going to let Anjuli off that easily?
Plus, we know how devoted Anjuli is to custom, and when Ash shows up to rescue her, she refuses to go. She has found out that Shushila's plan is to have Anjuli's eyes poked out after having seen her die with the Rana's body. That is the ultimate revenge, but Anjuli would rather do that than escape with Ash. For crying out loud! But, to satisfy him, she will allow him to shoot her sister dead once the pyre starts going to spare her the fear of burning alive. Once that happens, Ash and Anjuli hightail it out of the palace.
Eternal happiness does not come so quickly. It's discovered that Anjuli has escaped and a posse is sent after them. Anjuli's horse is shot out from underneath her, but she is safe. Ash leaves her with his trust men and goes back to fight. He promises Anjuli he will return with giant kiss. Ash, Koda Dan and a doctor get to fight the army sent after them. What ensues is a fight straight out of the American West, with Ash as the fast shot who can pick off four men with one pistol before they can aim their rifles. Though they rout the army, the doctor dies and Koda Dan is mortally wounded. Ash leaves him to die and goes off into the mountains, the Far Pavilions as they are called, with Anjuli.
"The Far Pavilions" is fine as romance, terrible as adventure. The adventure parts (battles, crumbling mountains and such) look cheap and are so tied to the kind of backstory politics that work well in a book but badly on screen. The romance is better, but only because Ben Cross gives all he has. Amy Irving is never believable as an Indian princess, and her robotic devotion to custom wears awfully thin, so that by the end, one just wishes she would have followed the customs and let her beloved find a new gal. Even the guest stars fail to register. Rossano Brazzi has nothing to do, John Gielgud is around only for a few minutes, Omar Sharif is, well, Omar Sharif. Christopher Lee, as ridiculous as an Indian as Amy Irving, is majestic enough for the part, but it's not much of a part.
The exotic locale and breathless story should have been a no-brainer for a miniseries in 1984, but "The Far Pavilions" presents a problem: there is no clear sense of good and evil. Just when you think everything Indian is good and everything British evil, the story shows us how cruel the native customs can be (not that the British had any right to meddle). An epic like this needs to have heroes and villains who are uncomplicated, unless it is so well written that the lack of moral clarity can be made acceptable. The writing here is way too hackneyed for that, so ultimately we're provided with merely an eye-popping spectacle, pretty to look at, but empty of heart.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
MAYBE A SLIGHT DETOUR: The Woman He Loved (1988)
Technically, "The Woman He Loved" is not a miniseries by my definition because it was a one-night movie that only ran about two hours with commercials (100 minutes, but different VHS and DVD versions have different cuts). But, because Jane Seymour is the defining actress of the genre being discussed, taking a detour to watch her prove again why she is the Queen of TV is allowed. Plus, this is a plum role: The Duchess of Windsor. Though "Edward and Mrs. Simpson" is hands-down the best televised version of this oft-filmed story, it was made specifically for the UK, so this is the closest we have to an American miniseries--okay, okay, it's a joint US-UK production--in this period about the ultimate 20th Century love affair (well, for everyone except the Duke and Duchess). All of the elements are here: great stars, has-been guest stars, a romance story, glamour and tears.
Now, let's be honest, Jane Seymour is way too ravishing a beauty to look anything like the Duchess of Windsor, who had style and flair, but not looks. To be fair to the Duchess, the movie starts in 1972, with Edward having just died and Wallis Simpson now a widow, which means Jane in heavy make-up. The opening scene is brief, but in giving us the intro to Jane as Wallis, it's much easier to quickly dart back to the past where Jane is just marrying Ernest Simpson (Tom Wilkerson).
Upon leaving the ceremony, their car is held up by the Prince of Wales driving through town, and Wallis leans far out the window to catch a glimpse of him. Ernest isn't such a bad catch for Wallis, born in Baltimore and already once divorced, as he is wealthy and doting. Social climber that she is, Wallis announces her new home is "perfect for parties," though Ernest is a more sedate type.
At one of those parties, Wallis finds out that one of her guests is the current mistress of the Prince of Wales. Wallis pretends she doesn't get the fuss over the royals, but her guests get all patriotic about them.
Wallis again sees The Prince of Wales (Anthony Andrews, so ideal in one of the UK's best miniseries, "Brideshead Revisited") at a military function but then puts her foot in her mouth sounding like a very obnoxious American talking about British manners. Before she can get into too much trouble, Wallis has to return to the US at the behest Aunt Bessie (Olivia de Havilland, in her last film role to date, and having a grand time). Wallis' mother Alice (Julie Harris, one of the only actresses capable of doing a scene against Jane Seymour and come out winning) is dying. Alice is a feisty Southern woman who finds Wallis' new husband "strange," but is also quite loving and touching when discussing how to deal with loneliness. "It educates us to think," she says of that horrible feeling. With that interesting piece of advice, it's goodbye to Julie Harris, who nabbed an Emmy nomination for her two minutes of screen time.
Back in London, Wallis and Ernest are invited to a weekend in the country with the Prince. At first, Wallis is worried about it, but that seems only on the surface as Jane's cunning performance has the undertone of a woman completely in control at all times. The party gets off to a bad start because the Prince doesn't arrive. This gives Wallis time to tell Ernest how much of a hero was to her in her youth, a favorite diary entry and even the name of her guinea pig!
Returning to 1972, Wallis is ruminating on her dead David (as he was called). "They broke his heart," she says, referring to the way the royals treated them both, particularly the Queen. She gets more loving talking about how he died in her arms, but then returns to sarcasm to ask her friend if she remembers her proper bowing, "as you will need it where we're going).
That night in the country, Wallis and Ernest wait up for the Prince to arrive with his paramour Thelma (Lucy Gutteridge). One thing we immediately find out is that Edward is a crushing bore. Oh, he can talk about hunting just fine, but it's dreary. It's Ernest who points out how good looking he is, but Wallis has clearly already noticed that, raising her eyebrows in such a way as to hint that she already has a plan. Indeed she does, making sure to turn up just when Edward is about to pass by along, playing the dewy ingenue who wants to take a walk alone in the rain, something of course she knows Edward will volunteer to share with her.
Wallis makes Edward laugh, which he admires greatly, and her act of adjusting to whatever the Prince thinks works like a charm on dimwitted Edward.
Jane works the older Wallis-in-mourning expertly, playing a slightly frail old lady (she had another 14 years in her) who is to stay at Buckingham Palace after years of being ignored.
Back in the 30s, Thelma has to return to the US to testify in the case regarding Gloria Vanderbilt's custody (Lucy Gutteridge played the sister of this current character in "Little Gloria Happy At Last") and asks Wallis to watch over Edward. Even Ernest notices how well she does her job. And what a job it is, because once again, Edward, whom Wallis now suddenly calls David, is the personification of a sleeping draught. Wallis, all wide-eyed, tells him that nothing he says is boring.
He's smitten, showing up at Wallis and Ernest's house whenever he wants, and Ernest is smart enough to know when to leave the room. Edward isn't there for him. Edward admits he is smitten, actually dropping his veneer of propriety to quietly say "I love you."
Thelma is furious and shows up at Wallis' flat, but the twist is that Thelma thinks Edward has given up on her because of her brief affair with the Ali Khan. Even less bright than Edward, Thelma invites Wallis and Ernest to come to the country with her and Edward to "help her cause." Watching Wallis in action that weekend (and Jane at her most sweetly devious), obviously has the Prince so wrapped around her soon-to-be-diamond-encrusted finger that even the light bulb above Thelma's head goes off.
At a dreary party, Wallis stares all wide-eyed at him and then thanks him for the overwhelming jewelry he's given her. "It's just the beginning," he says. Wallis races home to tell Ernest they have been invited for another weekend with him, and Wallis stares ahead and feels she's "behind the looking glass." "Wallis in Wonderland," Ernest quips. He has a meeting in New York and can't attend, but Wallis knew that and refuses to miss the weekend just because of Ernest, who knows by now he's lost. "Come on Mr. Lou. Seems you and I are in the same bed," he says to the dog as he takes him out of the bedroom.
Along for the seagoing merriment is Aunt Bessie, who wants to have a heart-to-heart with Wallis. As she starts, Edward starts with the bagpipes. "Does he take them everywhere?" she dryly asks. Aunt Bessie tries to warn Wallis about "the dangerous waters" she's gotten herself into. The poor dear is concerned about the gossip, pulling out a newspaper clipping from home where Ernest is quoted as saying, "I'm sorry I've but one wife to give for my king." Aunt Bessie tells Wallis to go on shore with a parasol, but is told she's old-fashioned. Edward agrees with Aunt Bessie, making him officially the most boring man to ever enter into an infamous love affair. Olivia de Havilland gives the camera exactly what she always did, those big concerned eyes and sweet protestations.
We're now well into the movie and Edward brings up the problem of their love and his being king. "David, what are we going to do?" Wallis asks with actual concern Timing is everything, so wouldn't you know that the Queen sends Edward a note to rush back home as the King is ill.
In the next scene, Wallis is having dinner with friends and gets a call from her beloved. "Excuse me, darlings," she says. She's officially become the social climbing snob she abhorred before she met the Prince, because it was that specific affectation she said she hated in an early scene. Our Wallis is ready, and it's a good thing too because she had to excuse herself to take the phone call that the King is dead.
King Edward decides to watch his own Proclamation Ceremony "with my beloved," despite a gaggle of other people in the room. The new king can only think about Wallis on this most important of days. In a sweet moment, they reach for each other's hands. Maybe she is in love after all.
Ernest knows when he's licked, but the problems for her other lover are just beginning. At an official soiree, the women gossip mercilessly, the Prime Minister ignores her and even Charles Lindberg is pissy (thankfully, we leave out all pro-Nazi talk among these supposed sympathizers). Edward proposes to Wallis at this party, in the most un-romantic of ways, but he just needs to figure out a way to remain king and marry her. Edward tells the PM in no uncertain terms that he will marry Wallis. The PM ain't happy. Edward's next problem is Ernest. Though he's willing to give his wife a divorce, Ernest tries to reason with him that it's impractical, but when the king says the throne comes second to Wallis, Ernest realizes how true this has become. Edward then goes to Churchill (Robert Hardy, of course, because he always played Churchill), who is the most practical of all. The divorce proceedings have to follow the law, so poor Ernest is made to be the adulterer so she can get off with reputation intact...for now. "Down with the American whore," a woman shouts at Wallis as she escapes into a car after court.
"Love is for grocers, Sir, not for kings. Should not your country come first?" the Prime Minister says nastily to his king. Edward does not care. He wants Wallis. He says it frankly, that if he cannot be married, he will abdicate. Wallis is listening at the door and goes to tell Aunt Bessie what happened. Aunt Bessie is brutally honest with Wallis. "You always have a plan," she tartly oozes when Wallis says she loves David as he is and has no desire to be Queen. Aunt Bessie doesn't buy a word of it. "Do you love David the man or David the king?" "Both," Wallis says. Edward proposes a morganatic marriage, which means he can remain king, but she won't be queen and their kids won't inherit the throne (no offense, but I think they are way beyond worrying about kids). But, in order to make this work, Parliament has to approve it, which is another issue.
You think the Prime Minister is gruff? Try the Queen Mother (Phyllis Calvert), who tells him he has to give her up, to make sacrifices, since his duty is to the people. Edward seems to think his made-up mind is proof of his strength, but why is it every scene is Edward asking someone else what to do? Mom, Aunt Bessie, the Prime Minister, Churchill, a cockney flower seller outside Covent Garden (oh, wait, that's a different story).
Parliament says no to the morganatic marriage and Edward gets even angrier, since he is expected to give up love, something no one else is ever asked to give up. Even Wallis tells him not to give up the throne. She would be happy to be his mistress in secret, but the press won't have that. Tears streaming down her pretty face, Wallis offers to leave the country, urging him not to give up the throne, but his mind is made up.
Leave it to our slumming vet to deliver the movie's best line. Wallis apologizes to Aunt Bessie for putting her through this hell, and Aunt Bessie says, "there are always blessings in these things." "Like what?" Wallis asks. Raising an eyebrow and taking a pause that shows years of experience, she gently coos, "you put Baltimore on the map." Bang! Olivia de Havilland has just stolen another movie!
Hated by a nation, Wallis is besieged by the press and is cracking under the pressure. She begs Edward not to go through with his plans, to go through with the coronation and then worry about the rest later. She threatens to leave the country, but he threatens to follow her. He's also already started the abdication process and will be leaving England that day, so it's too late.
Then Prince Edward gives his famous radio address from Windsor Castle. He informs the nation that he has abdicated in favor of his brother. The Rogue's Gallery of cast members all listen (Mom, the PM, Churchill, Aunt Bessie, Ernest, even Thelma). The speech is notable for its sincerity, but also for the fact that he never mentions Wallis' name. "The other person" is as close as he gets. Jane Seymour plays this scene magnificently. All she has to do is listen, but it's not just sadness she feels. Worry is etched on her face. He's given up the life he was groomed for, for her and now they are tied to each other forever, no matter what. If she wasn't really in love with him, she has to put on quite a show for the rest of their lifetimes or fall in love quickly. History disagrees on which course she really took.
The pair is finally married in 1937 in France. Edward instructs the priest to inscribe her prayer book to "Her Royal Highness, because that's what she'll always be to me." He's sincere. But, then comes a really creepy moment. Exiting the church, they talk about possibly walking instead of driving, but it's going to rain. "I thought you liked walking in the rain," Edward innocently reminds her. "I was lying," says a woman who has schemed to perfection. But, movies cannot end on such a potentially nasty note. Wallis calls Aunt Bessie over to the car and purrs, "it's David the man."
Back in 1972, Wallis kisses the coffin in front of the whole world and then walks out of the chapel alone, a lovely image, but one that is not historically accurate, of course.
It's interesting to note here how much the movie, based on a book written soon after Edward's death, seems to hint that Wallis was merely a social-climber who bagged the ultimate prize. This is not a romanticized version of the story, though if you take out a few lines here or there, it could be. It's actually quite cagey in how it presents its denunciation. Well, cagey and lucky, because its trump card is Jane Seymour, such a pro that she manages to play both gooey love and steely determination at the same time. We're left not really knowing the truth because her performance is grand enough to give us two points of view. See, no one does it better!
Now, let's be honest, Jane Seymour is way too ravishing a beauty to look anything like the Duchess of Windsor, who had style and flair, but not looks. To be fair to the Duchess, the movie starts in 1972, with Edward having just died and Wallis Simpson now a widow, which means Jane in heavy make-up. The opening scene is brief, but in giving us the intro to Jane as Wallis, it's much easier to quickly dart back to the past where Jane is just marrying Ernest Simpson (Tom Wilkerson).
Upon leaving the ceremony, their car is held up by the Prince of Wales driving through town, and Wallis leans far out the window to catch a glimpse of him. Ernest isn't such a bad catch for Wallis, born in Baltimore and already once divorced, as he is wealthy and doting. Social climber that she is, Wallis announces her new home is "perfect for parties," though Ernest is a more sedate type.
At one of those parties, Wallis finds out that one of her guests is the current mistress of the Prince of Wales. Wallis pretends she doesn't get the fuss over the royals, but her guests get all patriotic about them.
Wallis again sees The Prince of Wales (Anthony Andrews, so ideal in one of the UK's best miniseries, "Brideshead Revisited") at a military function but then puts her foot in her mouth sounding like a very obnoxious American talking about British manners. Before she can get into too much trouble, Wallis has to return to the US at the behest Aunt Bessie (Olivia de Havilland, in her last film role to date, and having a grand time). Wallis' mother Alice (Julie Harris, one of the only actresses capable of doing a scene against Jane Seymour and come out winning) is dying. Alice is a feisty Southern woman who finds Wallis' new husband "strange," but is also quite loving and touching when discussing how to deal with loneliness. "It educates us to think," she says of that horrible feeling. With that interesting piece of advice, it's goodbye to Julie Harris, who nabbed an Emmy nomination for her two minutes of screen time.
Back in London, Wallis and Ernest are invited to a weekend in the country with the Prince. At first, Wallis is worried about it, but that seems only on the surface as Jane's cunning performance has the undertone of a woman completely in control at all times. The party gets off to a bad start because the Prince doesn't arrive. This gives Wallis time to tell Ernest how much of a hero was to her in her youth, a favorite diary entry and even the name of her guinea pig!
Returning to 1972, Wallis is ruminating on her dead David (as he was called). "They broke his heart," she says, referring to the way the royals treated them both, particularly the Queen. She gets more loving talking about how he died in her arms, but then returns to sarcasm to ask her friend if she remembers her proper bowing, "as you will need it where we're going).
That night in the country, Wallis and Ernest wait up for the Prince to arrive with his paramour Thelma (Lucy Gutteridge). One thing we immediately find out is that Edward is a crushing bore. Oh, he can talk about hunting just fine, but it's dreary. It's Ernest who points out how good looking he is, but Wallis has clearly already noticed that, raising her eyebrows in such a way as to hint that she already has a plan. Indeed she does, making sure to turn up just when Edward is about to pass by along, playing the dewy ingenue who wants to take a walk alone in the rain, something of course she knows Edward will volunteer to share with her.
Wallis makes Edward laugh, which he admires greatly, and her act of adjusting to whatever the Prince thinks works like a charm on dimwitted Edward.
Jane works the older Wallis-in-mourning expertly, playing a slightly frail old lady (she had another 14 years in her) who is to stay at Buckingham Palace after years of being ignored.
Back in the 30s, Thelma has to return to the US to testify in the case regarding Gloria Vanderbilt's custody (Lucy Gutteridge played the sister of this current character in "Little Gloria Happy At Last") and asks Wallis to watch over Edward. Even Ernest notices how well she does her job. And what a job it is, because once again, Edward, whom Wallis now suddenly calls David, is the personification of a sleeping draught. Wallis, all wide-eyed, tells him that nothing he says is boring.
He's smitten, showing up at Wallis and Ernest's house whenever he wants, and Ernest is smart enough to know when to leave the room. Edward isn't there for him. Edward admits he is smitten, actually dropping his veneer of propriety to quietly say "I love you."
Thelma is furious and shows up at Wallis' flat, but the twist is that Thelma thinks Edward has given up on her because of her brief affair with the Ali Khan. Even less bright than Edward, Thelma invites Wallis and Ernest to come to the country with her and Edward to "help her cause." Watching Wallis in action that weekend (and Jane at her most sweetly devious), obviously has the Prince so wrapped around her soon-to-be-diamond-encrusted finger that even the light bulb above Thelma's head goes off.
At a dreary party, Wallis stares all wide-eyed at him and then thanks him for the overwhelming jewelry he's given her. "It's just the beginning," he says. Wallis races home to tell Ernest they have been invited for another weekend with him, and Wallis stares ahead and feels she's "behind the looking glass." "Wallis in Wonderland," Ernest quips. He has a meeting in New York and can't attend, but Wallis knew that and refuses to miss the weekend just because of Ernest, who knows by now he's lost. "Come on Mr. Lou. Seems you and I are in the same bed," he says to the dog as he takes him out of the bedroom.
Along for the seagoing merriment is Aunt Bessie, who wants to have a heart-to-heart with Wallis. As she starts, Edward starts with the bagpipes. "Does he take them everywhere?" she dryly asks. Aunt Bessie tries to warn Wallis about "the dangerous waters" she's gotten herself into. The poor dear is concerned about the gossip, pulling out a newspaper clipping from home where Ernest is quoted as saying, "I'm sorry I've but one wife to give for my king." Aunt Bessie tells Wallis to go on shore with a parasol, but is told she's old-fashioned. Edward agrees with Aunt Bessie, making him officially the most boring man to ever enter into an infamous love affair. Olivia de Havilland gives the camera exactly what she always did, those big concerned eyes and sweet protestations.
We're now well into the movie and Edward brings up the problem of their love and his being king. "David, what are we going to do?" Wallis asks with actual concern Timing is everything, so wouldn't you know that the Queen sends Edward a note to rush back home as the King is ill.
In the next scene, Wallis is having dinner with friends and gets a call from her beloved. "Excuse me, darlings," she says. She's officially become the social climbing snob she abhorred before she met the Prince, because it was that specific affectation she said she hated in an early scene. Our Wallis is ready, and it's a good thing too because she had to excuse herself to take the phone call that the King is dead.
King Edward decides to watch his own Proclamation Ceremony "with my beloved," despite a gaggle of other people in the room. The new king can only think about Wallis on this most important of days. In a sweet moment, they reach for each other's hands. Maybe she is in love after all.
Ernest knows when he's licked, but the problems for her other lover are just beginning. At an official soiree, the women gossip mercilessly, the Prime Minister ignores her and even Charles Lindberg is pissy (thankfully, we leave out all pro-Nazi talk among these supposed sympathizers). Edward proposes to Wallis at this party, in the most un-romantic of ways, but he just needs to figure out a way to remain king and marry her. Edward tells the PM in no uncertain terms that he will marry Wallis. The PM ain't happy. Edward's next problem is Ernest. Though he's willing to give his wife a divorce, Ernest tries to reason with him that it's impractical, but when the king says the throne comes second to Wallis, Ernest realizes how true this has become. Edward then goes to Churchill (Robert Hardy, of course, because he always played Churchill), who is the most practical of all. The divorce proceedings have to follow the law, so poor Ernest is made to be the adulterer so she can get off with reputation intact...for now. "Down with the American whore," a woman shouts at Wallis as she escapes into a car after court.
"Love is for grocers, Sir, not for kings. Should not your country come first?" the Prime Minister says nastily to his king. Edward does not care. He wants Wallis. He says it frankly, that if he cannot be married, he will abdicate. Wallis is listening at the door and goes to tell Aunt Bessie what happened. Aunt Bessie is brutally honest with Wallis. "You always have a plan," she tartly oozes when Wallis says she loves David as he is and has no desire to be Queen. Aunt Bessie doesn't buy a word of it. "Do you love David the man or David the king?" "Both," Wallis says. Edward proposes a morganatic marriage, which means he can remain king, but she won't be queen and their kids won't inherit the throne (no offense, but I think they are way beyond worrying about kids). But, in order to make this work, Parliament has to approve it, which is another issue.
You think the Prime Minister is gruff? Try the Queen Mother (Phyllis Calvert), who tells him he has to give her up, to make sacrifices, since his duty is to the people. Edward seems to think his made-up mind is proof of his strength, but why is it every scene is Edward asking someone else what to do? Mom, Aunt Bessie, the Prime Minister, Churchill, a cockney flower seller outside Covent Garden (oh, wait, that's a different story).
Parliament says no to the morganatic marriage and Edward gets even angrier, since he is expected to give up love, something no one else is ever asked to give up. Even Wallis tells him not to give up the throne. She would be happy to be his mistress in secret, but the press won't have that. Tears streaming down her pretty face, Wallis offers to leave the country, urging him not to give up the throne, but his mind is made up.
Leave it to our slumming vet to deliver the movie's best line. Wallis apologizes to Aunt Bessie for putting her through this hell, and Aunt Bessie says, "there are always blessings in these things." "Like what?" Wallis asks. Raising an eyebrow and taking a pause that shows years of experience, she gently coos, "you put Baltimore on the map." Bang! Olivia de Havilland has just stolen another movie!
Hated by a nation, Wallis is besieged by the press and is cracking under the pressure. She begs Edward not to go through with his plans, to go through with the coronation and then worry about the rest later. She threatens to leave the country, but he threatens to follow her. He's also already started the abdication process and will be leaving England that day, so it's too late.
Then Prince Edward gives his famous radio address from Windsor Castle. He informs the nation that he has abdicated in favor of his brother. The Rogue's Gallery of cast members all listen (Mom, the PM, Churchill, Aunt Bessie, Ernest, even Thelma). The speech is notable for its sincerity, but also for the fact that he never mentions Wallis' name. "The other person" is as close as he gets. Jane Seymour plays this scene magnificently. All she has to do is listen, but it's not just sadness she feels. Worry is etched on her face. He's given up the life he was groomed for, for her and now they are tied to each other forever, no matter what. If she wasn't really in love with him, she has to put on quite a show for the rest of their lifetimes or fall in love quickly. History disagrees on which course she really took.
The pair is finally married in 1937 in France. Edward instructs the priest to inscribe her prayer book to "Her Royal Highness, because that's what she'll always be to me." He's sincere. But, then comes a really creepy moment. Exiting the church, they talk about possibly walking instead of driving, but it's going to rain. "I thought you liked walking in the rain," Edward innocently reminds her. "I was lying," says a woman who has schemed to perfection. But, movies cannot end on such a potentially nasty note. Wallis calls Aunt Bessie over to the car and purrs, "it's David the man."
Back in 1972, Wallis kisses the coffin in front of the whole world and then walks out of the chapel alone, a lovely image, but one that is not historically accurate, of course.
It's interesting to note here how much the movie, based on a book written soon after Edward's death, seems to hint that Wallis was merely a social-climber who bagged the ultimate prize. This is not a romanticized version of the story, though if you take out a few lines here or there, it could be. It's actually quite cagey in how it presents its denunciation. Well, cagey and lucky, because its trump card is Jane Seymour, such a pro that she manages to play both gooey love and steely determination at the same time. We're left not really knowing the truth because her performance is grand enough to give us two points of view. See, no one does it better!
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Poor Little Rich Girl: The Barbara Hutton Story (1987)
I think most would say that Farrah Fawcett gave two very good performances: The Burning Bed and Small Sacrifices. I'll give her one of those, but I actually think her best performance is here in "Poor Little Rich Girl: The Barbara Hutton Story," a sudser that is a gift to any actress because Barbara Hutton's life had everything dramatic imaginable. There's so much to play here! In the three miniseries about some of the 20th Century's wealthiest women, this one is right in the middle. "Little Gloria, Happy At Last," is sublime, even if it's only about Gloria Vanderbilt as a young child. "Too Rich" with Lauren Bacall as Doris Duke is a lot tougher to get through than the others. This one is right in the middle with Farrah ideally cast as tragic oft-married Barbara Hutton.
Let's go back to 1917, where F.W. Woolworth (Burl Ives) is opening his 150th store. He's giving a speech at the opening, giving Burl Ives a cheesy speech into which to sink his considerably over-ripe chops and then gives an even harsher one to his daughter, who has married Franklyn Hutton (brother of E.F.), all of this witnessed by five-year-old Barbara, his granddaughter. Old F.W.'s speech about the lout Franklyn reminds his daughter all super rich people need to start life out on a tragic foot (or at least the rich who make it to TV, and let's face it, Barbara's life was TV-ready the whole time it was happening), so she kills herself so Barbara can have that drama. Yup, less than five minutes after the credits, Mom is dead. But not pretty on the bed with her hands clasped, slumped in a couch in a fluffy nightgown.
Franklyn Hutton (Kevin McCarthy) isn't much of a father either, giving Barbara the old "Mommy is in heaven" speech and then heaping presents on her instead of his love. Absentee parentism, another theme of these pieces. Franklyn, seemingly on one glass of wine, gets raging drunk and goes into dinner with the Woolworth family, where old F.W. is anything but pleased and the rest of the family pecks at hime. His speech about anyone being able to parent a child is heard by Barbara, setting up a complex that will haunt Barbara for the rest of her life (both a good Psychiatrist and anyone who watches these types of movies will tell you that).
Barbara is packed off to live with her grandparents, though Mrs. Woolworth doesn't have any lines and F.W. dies after a frightening scene explaining the scary organ he plays in the middle of the night to Barbara. Franklyn still can't be bothered to play father, but laughs to remind everyone that F.W. died before making a will leaving everything to charity, so once Granny dies, Barbara gets a massive fortune. The governess notes that Franklyn left without saying goodbye to Barbara (now Fairuza Balk, who is supposed to be 12 even though it's only two years later in the story--Barbara was born in 1912). Barbara has no friends, so the servants wrangle some up, but they are rather bitchy, setting up a second theme, that of Barbara giving away anything she has to people who pay her attention so they will like her. The girls traipse out with everything but a chotchke from her mother (Barbara won't part with it, so the nastiest little girl in TV history whines, "then what can I take?").
Granny Woolworth kicks and Barbara gets a house and a stepmother at the same time, only dad and stepmom live next door, leaving Barbara all alone in her house with only servants. The poor thing sits at her window at New Year's watching a hearty party next door. Cousin Jimmy Donahue, playing the gay best friend role (yes, even as a child), pops by to note how "different" they are from everyone else. They promise always to stay together.
And finally Farrah takes over as Barbara, with eternal sidekick Bruce Davison as Jimmy. She's at her own coming out party where Franklyn name drops, but Barbara is unimpressed. She still has no friends except Jimmy, as everyone is forced to be there. Aunt Marjorie Merriweather Post (Anne Francis) is kind to her, but all of the girls, now grown up, are as spiteful as possible. But, they introduce her to Prince Mdvani (Nicholas Clay), an impossibly handsome fellow. "If a guy's going to marry awful rich, he better be very in love," a drunk guy notes, which Barbara overhears, hammering in our theme again. "I feel like I've been entered at the Westminster Kennel show," Barbara glowers, while men drool after her money.
Barbara is packed off to London to meet the royal family to get her away from her lover, whom drunk Franklyn thinks is a drunk who wants to marry for money (no irony there, eh?). She meets all the royals, but things finally get going when Barbara is invited to France by Elsa Maxwell (played as a bull dyke by Miriam Margoyles). It's there she again meets Prince Mdvani. He says all the right things to her, that "people will always be fascinated by you," but lays on the charm as only an impoverished Prince from Georgia (not the state) can. Most importantly, he pretends to be into Barbara for Barbara herself. Barbara also meets Pauline de la Rochelle (Stephane Audan), who is sympathetic to her plight. Moments later, Barbara hears the latest song rage, "I Found a Million Dollar Baby (In a Five and Ten Cent Store)" and is horrified. "Doris Duke has more money than me," she bleats, begging people not to talk about her money. Pot and kettle?
Prince Mdvani, still making it all about Barbara, gets his woman into bed in an overly under-lit scene where he starts at her toes and works works up, only to be interrupted by a gaggle of "friends," one of whom purposely brought everyone to the cabana to show them together.
It's now 1931 and Franklyn arrives in London (Barbara stays at The Dorchester, where Liz and Dick would stay years later) to talk Barbara out of playing around with Prince Mdvani, who is, oh, I didn't mention this, married. Franklyn offers $500K to Prince Mdvani to go away, and the Prince and his sister insist it's all about love. The sister would be happy to take $1 million, $500K apiece, and the Prince informs Franklyn he's getting a divorce. The sister gets the wife to divorce Prince Mdvani so they can get to Barbara, but Barbara and her loyal friend Jean (Zoe Wanamaker) are onto the scheme, but Barbara wants Prince Mdvani to work for it and makes him chase her around the world. He finds her in Bali, where they FINALLY get to finish that sex scene started earlier. They force Franklyn to announce their engagement and Prince Mdvani fires off a cable to his sister. "I've won the prize."
The Prince and Franklyn make a business deal before the marriage, making sure we understand he's doing this for the money. Barbara is upset, still thinking the Prince loves her as she loves him, but dad tells her the blunt truth. Farrah gets her first hot-tempered scene and she handles it well. She goes through with the marriage anyway. On their wedding night, Barbara coos about how much she loves his body and he tells her she's too fat. She still buys him a boat, a small one, dependable Pauline clucking her disapproval. "He's a baby really, a big baby," Barbara says, as if that's a good trait in a new husband.
As her bastard wastrel husband spends her money and squires around other women, we get a bizarre montage of Barbara's weight loss regime, which is essentially Farrah in a series of increasingly less padded outfits. With Barbara about to take control of her own fortune the way she has her figure, suddenly the Prince wants her again. After a jewel buying spree, Barbara loses her temper on the Prince, but he manipulates the conversation to his advantage, as usual. Barbara tosses the Prince's clothing into the Venice canals, yelling, "you forgot your marriage!"
Barbara comes into her own money and spends it so fully that we have to suffer through a ridiculous scene where Barbara and the Prince are attached at the theater by the Depression-era poor.
Barbara meets Count Reventlow (making sure to knock down the Prince's empty title), a Danish prince who enchants Barbara, and Jimmy too. Prince Mdvani is less excited. The Count helps Barbara forget the increasingly horrid behavior of the Prince, who is clearly on his way out. Since the movie is about Barbara, we have to make sure all non-Barbara characters who fell out of her favor are painted in the worst light, so Prince Mdvani gets a scene of such bad behavior that they actually have him fallen on the floor laughing like a true movie villain.
Franklyn goes to her side and is not helpful in telling her to curb her cursing. "Watch your language! What's your language! Why can't you just hold me?" Barbara howls. It's hard not to laugh at dialogue like that. That scene has to be topped by one with the Prince. "You never really loved me, did you?" she asks Mdvani, who doesn't deny he and his sister wanted the money.
Ta-ta Prince Mdvani, hello Count Reventlow, who seems far more down-to-earth than the Prince. "We live in castle, but it's not a fairy-tale castle, just a big family home," he says. Is that supposed to sound unpretentious or are we supposed to take that seriously? The Count promises to protect Barbara, who needs that attention, as we've known since Mom left her (I will not allow anyone to forget out themes--if the movie isn't subtle, I don't have to be!).
Hold on for the hoot scene where Reventlow tells her he is excited by being in control of her and then screws her in a horse stable. And then on a train. Barbara doesn't seem to see the warning signs here.
In the middle of her time with Reventlow, Prince Mdvani is killed. Just thought you would want to know what happened to her first ex. The movie cares enough to tell us.
Barbara gets pregnant by Reventlow, to the dismay of Jean and Jimmy, who seem to know she's not exactly a candidate for motherhood. Barbara tells Reventlow to "come here" in a sweet moment, but he tells her once again she can never give orders (orders?) and then has his way with her again. Barbara, still anorexic from her time with the Prince, neglects to eat, much to the Count's dismay and goes into premature labor.
Reventlow won't let Jimmy or "his friends" hold little Lance, because, well, you know. "I may be a queen, but I earned my title," Jimmy snaps, delivering the movie's best line and waking it momentarily from the stupor of dull husbands into which it's fallen.
It's the 1930s, so any rich dame with a kid gets kidnapping threats and Barbara buys a house outside of London, which Reventlow fixes up for about $5 million. Barbara carps at the money, but he gives her the "I'm in charge" speech again.
We meet Baron Von Cramm (Sascha Hehn), a famous tennis player and Barbara is smitten (I hate to ruin any surprises, but don't get too attached to him yet because there are three husbands after Reventlow before she marries him). Reventlow is jealous, but there are bigger problems. There is a strike against Woolworth's and Reventlow tosses away a cable asking for help. Barbara is very concerned about the poor workers (as if) and she is even more upset that he's still controlling her. He gets physically abusive. Yet Barbara doesn't want to divorce him because she wants her son to grow up with two parents living with him, unike the zero she had. Reventlow, supposedly to save her money, wants her to renounce her US citizenship. But, Franklyn's lawyer pipes in that all of the money will technically become Reventlow's, so another hubby contract has to be signed. He agrees, so Barbara renounces her citizenship, barely holding back tears and wearing make-up to make her look as haggard and upset as possible, though the fur and jewels must be helping her feel better. All of this pisses off the strikers at Woolworth's even more. One of the four (we're not spending money on extras when we have jewels and husbands to pay for) throws a trash can through a Woolworth's window.
Pauline convinces Barbara to buy some fabulously expensive jewels to help her feel better. Just then, dead Prince Mdvani's sister shows up, poor and sickly. Cue an explosion from Reventlow, who see the sister holding Lance and forbids it ever again because she's a morphine addict. He wants all "undesirables" out of her life. Sound Nazi-like? It should, because the Nazis are on the move and Von Cramm is not a Nazi sympathizer.
Even worse, Reventlow takes her to a sex club, where she is horrified and when they get home, he rapes her because she behaved so poorly. To add insult to literal injury, Reventlow takes Lance as he dashes from their house.
The divorce proceedings in 1937 are a circus in the British courts. Reventlow accuses Barbara of having affairs, but can't prove it and Barbara gets to provide evidence of his cruelty. The trial is having an effect on Lance, who has to sleep in an oxygen tent. Oh, and World War II is on its way and Barbara's friends urge her to leave, to ask for Joe Kennedy for help, but Barbara has less than fond memories of that womanizer. Unfortunately, Barbara is no longer an American citizen, so going back to the US will not be easy. Want another level of misery? Von Cramm is arrested in Germany on a charge of homosexuality. Want another level? Loyal Pauline gives Barbara some pills to help calm her nerves. You know that that leads to in a TV miniseries...addiction! Oh, yes, always.
As World War II advances, Barbara and Lance go to Los Angeles and the notorious Countess Difrasso, who raises money for the war effort. Barbara matches all money raised, but the tit-for-tat is that the Countess can help get Von Cramm out of Germany.
Since it's LA, it's time to meet husband #3, and the most famous of them all, Cary Grant (James Read, looking fantastic and doing a dead-on impersonation), the only one who didn't marry her for her money. The hook here for Barbara is that Cary is every bit as famous as her, so they are sympatico. On top of that, Cary seems to adore Lance from the beginning (taking him in his arms so he can dance with Cary and Barbara). However, this means for the oft-bedraggled viewer that Barbara as a character is given some depth and introspection. Depth isn't a strong suit of this type of fluff. It gives Farrah a chance to stretch a little, but making Cary Grant the indoor anti-fame whore type isn't as interesting as scandalous Mdvani or beastly Reventlow.
Barbara is fighting for Von Cramm's release (spied on by the Americans since the money to do it is going through Axis channels) and there is yet MORE bad news: Franklyn is dying. When Franklyn says he loves her, Barbara whines, "don't say that now. I needed to hear it then!" This launches her into a tantrum about the way he's treated her as Kevin McCarthy gets to play one hell of a deathbed scene, with tears, recriminations and confessions, just the stuff of Emmy nominations...I mean, good television. Note that as she holds his hand for the last time, Barbara is wearing a diamond that would make Elizabeth Taylor jealous. She immediately tells her son she loves him, so as not to be the same parent her father was.
Though Cary is so sympathetic when Barbara finds out she can't have children, he adores Lance and he ignores her increasing pill addiction, out of nowhere, they have a fight. He hates being "Cary Grant" to her friends and she thinks he spends too much time without her. "I hate Cary Grant!" she bellows as he storms out. "I love Cary Grant," she whispers to herself when he leaves. But folks, that ain't the end of it. The studio wanted to put Barbara in a Cary Grant movie and he refused. "I'll buy the studio and fire you," she shouts, but it ends up in laughter (I was already laughing, because Barbara was discussing throwing her maid a party where all the guests come as maids and all the maids as her friends and her maid can wear her jewels).
Barbara is given that moment of levity with Cary, but life is not rosy. Lance goes to visit his father and Mrs. His Father finds his name stitched in his clothing as "Lance Grant" and coded letters to Barbara. Just when you thought screeching Reventlow was out of the picture, he returns to create more drama. Reventlow is so angry, he wants to take Lance somewhere Barbara can never see him. And, if you are the type who cares about history, World War II ends.
So does marriage to Cary, as they both realize it hasn't been working. Barbara gets Lance away from Reventlow and parks him in boarding school in Tucson, but on the way, they stop at a drive-thru where waitress on roller skates seeing Barbara crash into each other. This is the reason why Lance can't stay with Barbara, who needs to keep on the move. "Look what just happened. All I have to do is walk down the street and someone ends up in the hospital," she explains to Lance. With a straight face. As if ego like that is healthy. Do we know a rich TV or movie character with a child who doesn't get tossed into boarding school, putting her life ahead of the kid's? Of course not!'' Have we fogotten about poor Ann Grenville's kid? He jumped out the window due to absentee partenting.
Babsy licks her wounds in Europe, going to fancy parties wearing tiaras, helping prop Jimmy up (he was booted from the army with a dishonorable discharge) and giving jewelry to Pauline. Best of all, she is reunited with Von Cramm. He seems to be the love of her life, but he has to go back to Germany the next day, so he's put on ice again after they spend a night together.
One place we haven't been is Tangier, so why not go? Barbara can spend a fortune there and remain fairly anonymous. She buys a house, outbidding Franco for it, and her possessions make their way via donkey and men with hats around a set with extras that looks like Mexico more than North Africa. Tangier also gives Bruce Davison a chance to get plastered and ride a camel. Barbara literally dresses like royalty and even gets Lance in on the act when he visits. It is excessive, but she seems happy.
But we can't have happiness for our Barbara, can we? Cue Prince Igor Trubestkoy (Leigh Lawson), another impossible stunning man who asks her what it's like to have everything as a second sentence introducing himself. Rather than run from him, Barbara is drawn. Well, he does have a title, he's good looking and he pays her dutiful attention. We're back to our theme! "I don't want to be dominated and I'm terrified of being alone," Barbara says when he proposes perhaps maybe they should think of kind of falling in love. That line sums up the whole movie, but there's still over an hour to go.
We should worry that when Barbara and Igor, in bed during the above scene, finish it, Barbara goes down on Igor and he wears a look of supreme surprise.
Lance is pissed at Barbara because she won't break the agreement with Reventlow and keep him permanently. "Every time we part, something leaves me," Barbara sighs as angry Lance goes back to his father and Igor doesn't even try to comfort her. He then becomes husband #4, but things immediately turn sour when he objects to her drugs, her anorexia, her smoking (she's a richer Judy Garland, I guess). In Igor's defense, Barbara has turned into a raving bitch. He's trying to help and she snaps at him that he's only unhappy because she's not taking care of him ("I always take care of my husbands," she says with a nasty tone and dismisses him). She even admits to Lance that she doesn't love Igor, but Lance is soooooo over his mother and her nonsense. He tells her to stop calling!
Seven years pass and we find Barbara and Jimmy frail and addicted to an assortment of pills and drink that are all over the place. Igor has been discarded and they chat of soon-to-be husband #5, and my personal favorite, Porfirio Rubirosa (he of pepper mill fame). Lance is now an adult with a girlfriend to whom he wants to introduce Mummy. Barbara is so bad off from the drugs, the booze and the lack of eating that she can't even apply her make-up and stumbles around her house in a haze. It's a sure bet the meeting with Lance's girl will not go well. In fact, Lance and the girl bolt as soon as they walk in because Barbara is too drunk to even stand up.
Then comes her suicide attempt, though it's treated as only a blip. Winchell then tells us the entire history of her marriage to Rubirosa in six seconds. It only lasted that many weeks, or $66,000 a day considering what she spent on him. Lance turns 21 and there is a huge black tie affair, where even Cary Grant and Uncle Jimmy show up, but not Barbara. "Do you think your next father is here today?" Jimmy snarls after Lance introduces him to his fiance Jill St. John (Debbie Barker).
Lance has another surprise: he's now a race car driver. Friends, I don't want to alarm you, but no one in a miniseries becomes a race car driver without, well, you know (although this "you know" will have a twist). Lance has a terrible accident during one race where there is a wildly bad moment of continuity. Every time they show the crowd, it's very obviously stock footage of racing fans from the 80s, rather than the 50s. Barbara is so freaked out that she tries offering Jill money to get Lance to stop, but Jill refuses, saying, "if I can't him to stop for love, I certainly won't do it for money." We have to be nice to the character of Jill as she alone among the major characters was still alive when this movie aired (Prince Igor was still alive, but somehow I doubt he had any sway).
Barbara finally marries Baron Von Cramm, husband #6, the man she's always wanted, but there's a hitch. She sees it firsthand when she bursts into the bedroom one day and finds him with another man. Yeah, that hitch. I hate to side with the Nazis, but they did label him a homosexual and they were right. If it's any consolation, he has excellent taste, because the boy in the bed is hot! Barbara claims to have known all along, but didn't want to know about it. Barbara does depression in an interesting way, buying gifts for her friends, a house for the nanny, a villa for Pauline, pearls for Jean, who turns them down because she is a TRUE friend and wants nothing. With Jean in the room, Barbara hits on Jean's husband, and when they try to talk sense into her, she kicks them to the curb. This is the saddest break-up in the whole movie because Barbara only does it to spare them the agony of watching her downward spiral and they genuinely love her.
In Venice, Countess Barbara, haggard and ridiculous, gives a bracelet to a hanger-on who admires it, but a good-looking stranger, James Douglas (Tony Peck) intervenes, gets her back the bracelet and then goes to bed with her. Pillow talk reveals that he has a trust fund too. James is different, because he not only returns all her gifts, but he also tells her the truth about her drinking, drugging and spending. This monologue he delivers in a multi-colored satin dressing gown, so it's hard to take him seriously. She begs James to stay with her, but he says he'll do it only without her friends, even Pauline. Pauline had lavishly spent Barbara's money, so she should have been tossed years ago, but now we're finally rid of her.
The new couple goes off to Mexico, where she has a Japanese-style mansion, and she summons Lance, who is a pissy little brat. He takes an immediately dislike to young James. He also lays it all on the line for his mother, calling her a "drunken slut." "Face it, you never wanted a child," he says, before reminding her that her father didn't want her and now her son doesn't either. "You son of a bitch," James pipes in. "That's right, I'm a real son of a bitch. Good luck, maybe she'll raise you better than me," Lance carps as he storms out. She decides to to back to Tangier, where she can revel in her riches and ignore the rest of the world.
On the plane over, Farrah gets another showy scene where she's so drunk and hopped up that she has a nervous breakdown in the lavatory, calling out for her nanny and thinking James is Reventlow. She even tries to open the hatch. Things are not going well for our heroine (but great for Farrah).
At a party in Tangier, Barbara doesn't make an appearance and the guests won't leave. "Then pay them to go!" she roars at James, who is still trying to save her. Barbara pushes him away too, as she does all positive influences (Pauline is back with the rest of the leeches). James has no choice but to leave. It was nice knowing him, but watching Barbara crash is more fun, so stick-in-the-mud sober James wasn't going to be around long.
Meet Raymond Doan (Neville Jason) whose brother decides "they" will marry Barbara for her money and plot like greedy children. Their conversation is overheard by a friend, so Pauline and Barbara's boyfriend tell her to watch out, but she takes Raymond's side, getting rid of both of them. Pauline gets a teary "I've been a loyal friend" scene, but frankly, she won't be missed. Barbara quickly marries Raymond, much to the dismay of Cousin Jimmy and Graham, her longtime lawyer (David Ackroyd).
Jimmy has a teary goodbye scene with Barbara, which, by the television playbook should mean he will die in the next scene, but it's Lance who bites it in a plane crash as Barbara is having a nightmare about him. She senses the moment of death. Okay, that's a bit much, even for TV dramatics.
It's 1977 now and Graham has had to sell off Barbara's assets because she has no money. Barbara is basically bedridden, her skin see-through, looking far older than her 60some years. She battles Graham, accusing him of stealing her homes, her jewels and her money. She has nothing left, so Graham rips the pearl necklace off her neck to raise some cash. She tells him she thinks he's "the biggest con artist" she's ever met and dispenses with him too.
The finale has Barbara aged beyond recognition, even down to her wrinkled hands, unable to get out of bed and looking 150 years old. She puts on the finery she has left and accepts a visit from Cary Grant, the only man who didn't use her for her money. Farrah gets her last chance to go for the gold with her deathbed speech, looking horrendously ugly and regretting her life. The narrator tells us Barbara died in 1979, worth less than $3500.
Geez, by the time Barbara divorces Cary Grant, not one good thing happens to her and I'm not sure if "Poor Little Rich Girl" is really a glossy miniseries anymore or a high-budget morality tale. I still go with the former, because if the lesson is don't be like Barbara Hutton, none of us have to worry. There are too few people in the world who could afford that lifestyle, and they probably don't watch miniseries anyway.
Seven husbands, umpteen lovers, bad friends, a dead son, a dead mother, a bad father, a scary grandfather and a gazillion dollars. "Poor Little Rich Girl" came along at exactly the right time, at the height of the 80s flashiness. It made perfect sense at the time and still packs a kick, if only to gape at the reality of Barbara's life, as delivered to us through ideally-cast Farrah Fawcett, who would die her own untimely death after much drama (though not as much as the Hutton dame).
Let's go back to 1917, where F.W. Woolworth (Burl Ives) is opening his 150th store. He's giving a speech at the opening, giving Burl Ives a cheesy speech into which to sink his considerably over-ripe chops and then gives an even harsher one to his daughter, who has married Franklyn Hutton (brother of E.F.), all of this witnessed by five-year-old Barbara, his granddaughter. Old F.W.'s speech about the lout Franklyn reminds his daughter all super rich people need to start life out on a tragic foot (or at least the rich who make it to TV, and let's face it, Barbara's life was TV-ready the whole time it was happening), so she kills herself so Barbara can have that drama. Yup, less than five minutes after the credits, Mom is dead. But not pretty on the bed with her hands clasped, slumped in a couch in a fluffy nightgown.
Franklyn Hutton (Kevin McCarthy) isn't much of a father either, giving Barbara the old "Mommy is in heaven" speech and then heaping presents on her instead of his love. Absentee parentism, another theme of these pieces. Franklyn, seemingly on one glass of wine, gets raging drunk and goes into dinner with the Woolworth family, where old F.W. is anything but pleased and the rest of the family pecks at hime. His speech about anyone being able to parent a child is heard by Barbara, setting up a complex that will haunt Barbara for the rest of her life (both a good Psychiatrist and anyone who watches these types of movies will tell you that).
Barbara is packed off to live with her grandparents, though Mrs. Woolworth doesn't have any lines and F.W. dies after a frightening scene explaining the scary organ he plays in the middle of the night to Barbara. Franklyn still can't be bothered to play father, but laughs to remind everyone that F.W. died before making a will leaving everything to charity, so once Granny dies, Barbara gets a massive fortune. The governess notes that Franklyn left without saying goodbye to Barbara (now Fairuza Balk, who is supposed to be 12 even though it's only two years later in the story--Barbara was born in 1912). Barbara has no friends, so the servants wrangle some up, but they are rather bitchy, setting up a second theme, that of Barbara giving away anything she has to people who pay her attention so they will like her. The girls traipse out with everything but a chotchke from her mother (Barbara won't part with it, so the nastiest little girl in TV history whines, "then what can I take?").
Granny Woolworth kicks and Barbara gets a house and a stepmother at the same time, only dad and stepmom live next door, leaving Barbara all alone in her house with only servants. The poor thing sits at her window at New Year's watching a hearty party next door. Cousin Jimmy Donahue, playing the gay best friend role (yes, even as a child), pops by to note how "different" they are from everyone else. They promise always to stay together.
And finally Farrah takes over as Barbara, with eternal sidekick Bruce Davison as Jimmy. She's at her own coming out party where Franklyn name drops, but Barbara is unimpressed. She still has no friends except Jimmy, as everyone is forced to be there. Aunt Marjorie Merriweather Post (Anne Francis) is kind to her, but all of the girls, now grown up, are as spiteful as possible. But, they introduce her to Prince Mdvani (Nicholas Clay), an impossibly handsome fellow. "If a guy's going to marry awful rich, he better be very in love," a drunk guy notes, which Barbara overhears, hammering in our theme again. "I feel like I've been entered at the Westminster Kennel show," Barbara glowers, while men drool after her money.
Barbara is packed off to London to meet the royal family to get her away from her lover, whom drunk Franklyn thinks is a drunk who wants to marry for money (no irony there, eh?). She meets all the royals, but things finally get going when Barbara is invited to France by Elsa Maxwell (played as a bull dyke by Miriam Margoyles). It's there she again meets Prince Mdvani. He says all the right things to her, that "people will always be fascinated by you," but lays on the charm as only an impoverished Prince from Georgia (not the state) can. Most importantly, he pretends to be into Barbara for Barbara herself. Barbara also meets Pauline de la Rochelle (Stephane Audan), who is sympathetic to her plight. Moments later, Barbara hears the latest song rage, "I Found a Million Dollar Baby (In a Five and Ten Cent Store)" and is horrified. "Doris Duke has more money than me," she bleats, begging people not to talk about her money. Pot and kettle?
Prince Mdvani, still making it all about Barbara, gets his woman into bed in an overly under-lit scene where he starts at her toes and works works up, only to be interrupted by a gaggle of "friends," one of whom purposely brought everyone to the cabana to show them together.
It's now 1931 and Franklyn arrives in London (Barbara stays at The Dorchester, where Liz and Dick would stay years later) to talk Barbara out of playing around with Prince Mdvani, who is, oh, I didn't mention this, married. Franklyn offers $500K to Prince Mdvani to go away, and the Prince and his sister insist it's all about love. The sister would be happy to take $1 million, $500K apiece, and the Prince informs Franklyn he's getting a divorce. The sister gets the wife to divorce Prince Mdvani so they can get to Barbara, but Barbara and her loyal friend Jean (Zoe Wanamaker) are onto the scheme, but Barbara wants Prince Mdvani to work for it and makes him chase her around the world. He finds her in Bali, where they FINALLY get to finish that sex scene started earlier. They force Franklyn to announce their engagement and Prince Mdvani fires off a cable to his sister. "I've won the prize."
The Prince and Franklyn make a business deal before the marriage, making sure we understand he's doing this for the money. Barbara is upset, still thinking the Prince loves her as she loves him, but dad tells her the blunt truth. Farrah gets her first hot-tempered scene and she handles it well. She goes through with the marriage anyway. On their wedding night, Barbara coos about how much she loves his body and he tells her she's too fat. She still buys him a boat, a small one, dependable Pauline clucking her disapproval. "He's a baby really, a big baby," Barbara says, as if that's a good trait in a new husband.
As her bastard wastrel husband spends her money and squires around other women, we get a bizarre montage of Barbara's weight loss regime, which is essentially Farrah in a series of increasingly less padded outfits. With Barbara about to take control of her own fortune the way she has her figure, suddenly the Prince wants her again. After a jewel buying spree, Barbara loses her temper on the Prince, but he manipulates the conversation to his advantage, as usual. Barbara tosses the Prince's clothing into the Venice canals, yelling, "you forgot your marriage!"
Barbara comes into her own money and spends it so fully that we have to suffer through a ridiculous scene where Barbara and the Prince are attached at the theater by the Depression-era poor.
Barbara meets Count Reventlow (making sure to knock down the Prince's empty title), a Danish prince who enchants Barbara, and Jimmy too. Prince Mdvani is less excited. The Count helps Barbara forget the increasingly horrid behavior of the Prince, who is clearly on his way out. Since the movie is about Barbara, we have to make sure all non-Barbara characters who fell out of her favor are painted in the worst light, so Prince Mdvani gets a scene of such bad behavior that they actually have him fallen on the floor laughing like a true movie villain.
Franklyn goes to her side and is not helpful in telling her to curb her cursing. "Watch your language! What's your language! Why can't you just hold me?" Barbara howls. It's hard not to laugh at dialogue like that. That scene has to be topped by one with the Prince. "You never really loved me, did you?" she asks Mdvani, who doesn't deny he and his sister wanted the money.
Ta-ta Prince Mdvani, hello Count Reventlow, who seems far more down-to-earth than the Prince. "We live in castle, but it's not a fairy-tale castle, just a big family home," he says. Is that supposed to sound unpretentious or are we supposed to take that seriously? The Count promises to protect Barbara, who needs that attention, as we've known since Mom left her (I will not allow anyone to forget out themes--if the movie isn't subtle, I don't have to be!).
Hold on for the hoot scene where Reventlow tells her he is excited by being in control of her and then screws her in a horse stable. And then on a train. Barbara doesn't seem to see the warning signs here.
In the middle of her time with Reventlow, Prince Mdvani is killed. Just thought you would want to know what happened to her first ex. The movie cares enough to tell us.
Barbara gets pregnant by Reventlow, to the dismay of Jean and Jimmy, who seem to know she's not exactly a candidate for motherhood. Barbara tells Reventlow to "come here" in a sweet moment, but he tells her once again she can never give orders (orders?) and then has his way with her again. Barbara, still anorexic from her time with the Prince, neglects to eat, much to the Count's dismay and goes into premature labor.
Reventlow won't let Jimmy or "his friends" hold little Lance, because, well, you know. "I may be a queen, but I earned my title," Jimmy snaps, delivering the movie's best line and waking it momentarily from the stupor of dull husbands into which it's fallen.
It's the 1930s, so any rich dame with a kid gets kidnapping threats and Barbara buys a house outside of London, which Reventlow fixes up for about $5 million. Barbara carps at the money, but he gives her the "I'm in charge" speech again.
We meet Baron Von Cramm (Sascha Hehn), a famous tennis player and Barbara is smitten (I hate to ruin any surprises, but don't get too attached to him yet because there are three husbands after Reventlow before she marries him). Reventlow is jealous, but there are bigger problems. There is a strike against Woolworth's and Reventlow tosses away a cable asking for help. Barbara is very concerned about the poor workers (as if) and she is even more upset that he's still controlling her. He gets physically abusive. Yet Barbara doesn't want to divorce him because she wants her son to grow up with two parents living with him, unike the zero she had. Reventlow, supposedly to save her money, wants her to renounce her US citizenship. But, Franklyn's lawyer pipes in that all of the money will technically become Reventlow's, so another hubby contract has to be signed. He agrees, so Barbara renounces her citizenship, barely holding back tears and wearing make-up to make her look as haggard and upset as possible, though the fur and jewels must be helping her feel better. All of this pisses off the strikers at Woolworth's even more. One of the four (we're not spending money on extras when we have jewels and husbands to pay for) throws a trash can through a Woolworth's window.
Pauline convinces Barbara to buy some fabulously expensive jewels to help her feel better. Just then, dead Prince Mdvani's sister shows up, poor and sickly. Cue an explosion from Reventlow, who see the sister holding Lance and forbids it ever again because she's a morphine addict. He wants all "undesirables" out of her life. Sound Nazi-like? It should, because the Nazis are on the move and Von Cramm is not a Nazi sympathizer.
Even worse, Reventlow takes her to a sex club, where she is horrified and when they get home, he rapes her because she behaved so poorly. To add insult to literal injury, Reventlow takes Lance as he dashes from their house.
The divorce proceedings in 1937 are a circus in the British courts. Reventlow accuses Barbara of having affairs, but can't prove it and Barbara gets to provide evidence of his cruelty. The trial is having an effect on Lance, who has to sleep in an oxygen tent. Oh, and World War II is on its way and Barbara's friends urge her to leave, to ask for Joe Kennedy for help, but Barbara has less than fond memories of that womanizer. Unfortunately, Barbara is no longer an American citizen, so going back to the US will not be easy. Want another level of misery? Von Cramm is arrested in Germany on a charge of homosexuality. Want another level? Loyal Pauline gives Barbara some pills to help calm her nerves. You know that that leads to in a TV miniseries...addiction! Oh, yes, always.
As World War II advances, Barbara and Lance go to Los Angeles and the notorious Countess Difrasso, who raises money for the war effort. Barbara matches all money raised, but the tit-for-tat is that the Countess can help get Von Cramm out of Germany.
Since it's LA, it's time to meet husband #3, and the most famous of them all, Cary Grant (James Read, looking fantastic and doing a dead-on impersonation), the only one who didn't marry her for her money. The hook here for Barbara is that Cary is every bit as famous as her, so they are sympatico. On top of that, Cary seems to adore Lance from the beginning (taking him in his arms so he can dance with Cary and Barbara). However, this means for the oft-bedraggled viewer that Barbara as a character is given some depth and introspection. Depth isn't a strong suit of this type of fluff. It gives Farrah a chance to stretch a little, but making Cary Grant the indoor anti-fame whore type isn't as interesting as scandalous Mdvani or beastly Reventlow.
Barbara is fighting for Von Cramm's release (spied on by the Americans since the money to do it is going through Axis channels) and there is yet MORE bad news: Franklyn is dying. When Franklyn says he loves her, Barbara whines, "don't say that now. I needed to hear it then!" This launches her into a tantrum about the way he's treated her as Kevin McCarthy gets to play one hell of a deathbed scene, with tears, recriminations and confessions, just the stuff of Emmy nominations...I mean, good television. Note that as she holds his hand for the last time, Barbara is wearing a diamond that would make Elizabeth Taylor jealous. She immediately tells her son she loves him, so as not to be the same parent her father was.
Though Cary is so sympathetic when Barbara finds out she can't have children, he adores Lance and he ignores her increasing pill addiction, out of nowhere, they have a fight. He hates being "Cary Grant" to her friends and she thinks he spends too much time without her. "I hate Cary Grant!" she bellows as he storms out. "I love Cary Grant," she whispers to herself when he leaves. But folks, that ain't the end of it. The studio wanted to put Barbara in a Cary Grant movie and he refused. "I'll buy the studio and fire you," she shouts, but it ends up in laughter (I was already laughing, because Barbara was discussing throwing her maid a party where all the guests come as maids and all the maids as her friends and her maid can wear her jewels).
Barbara is given that moment of levity with Cary, but life is not rosy. Lance goes to visit his father and Mrs. His Father finds his name stitched in his clothing as "Lance Grant" and coded letters to Barbara. Just when you thought screeching Reventlow was out of the picture, he returns to create more drama. Reventlow is so angry, he wants to take Lance somewhere Barbara can never see him. And, if you are the type who cares about history, World War II ends.
So does marriage to Cary, as they both realize it hasn't been working. Barbara gets Lance away from Reventlow and parks him in boarding school in Tucson, but on the way, they stop at a drive-thru where waitress on roller skates seeing Barbara crash into each other. This is the reason why Lance can't stay with Barbara, who needs to keep on the move. "Look what just happened. All I have to do is walk down the street and someone ends up in the hospital," she explains to Lance. With a straight face. As if ego like that is healthy. Do we know a rich TV or movie character with a child who doesn't get tossed into boarding school, putting her life ahead of the kid's? Of course not!'' Have we fogotten about poor Ann Grenville's kid? He jumped out the window due to absentee partenting.
Babsy licks her wounds in Europe, going to fancy parties wearing tiaras, helping prop Jimmy up (he was booted from the army with a dishonorable discharge) and giving jewelry to Pauline. Best of all, she is reunited with Von Cramm. He seems to be the love of her life, but he has to go back to Germany the next day, so he's put on ice again after they spend a night together.
One place we haven't been is Tangier, so why not go? Barbara can spend a fortune there and remain fairly anonymous. She buys a house, outbidding Franco for it, and her possessions make their way via donkey and men with hats around a set with extras that looks like Mexico more than North Africa. Tangier also gives Bruce Davison a chance to get plastered and ride a camel. Barbara literally dresses like royalty and even gets Lance in on the act when he visits. It is excessive, but she seems happy.
But we can't have happiness for our Barbara, can we? Cue Prince Igor Trubestkoy (Leigh Lawson), another impossible stunning man who asks her what it's like to have everything as a second sentence introducing himself. Rather than run from him, Barbara is drawn. Well, he does have a title, he's good looking and he pays her dutiful attention. We're back to our theme! "I don't want to be dominated and I'm terrified of being alone," Barbara says when he proposes perhaps maybe they should think of kind of falling in love. That line sums up the whole movie, but there's still over an hour to go.
We should worry that when Barbara and Igor, in bed during the above scene, finish it, Barbara goes down on Igor and he wears a look of supreme surprise.
Lance is pissed at Barbara because she won't break the agreement with Reventlow and keep him permanently. "Every time we part, something leaves me," Barbara sighs as angry Lance goes back to his father and Igor doesn't even try to comfort her. He then becomes husband #4, but things immediately turn sour when he objects to her drugs, her anorexia, her smoking (she's a richer Judy Garland, I guess). In Igor's defense, Barbara has turned into a raving bitch. He's trying to help and she snaps at him that he's only unhappy because she's not taking care of him ("I always take care of my husbands," she says with a nasty tone and dismisses him). She even admits to Lance that she doesn't love Igor, but Lance is soooooo over his mother and her nonsense. He tells her to stop calling!
Seven years pass and we find Barbara and Jimmy frail and addicted to an assortment of pills and drink that are all over the place. Igor has been discarded and they chat of soon-to-be husband #5, and my personal favorite, Porfirio Rubirosa (he of pepper mill fame). Lance is now an adult with a girlfriend to whom he wants to introduce Mummy. Barbara is so bad off from the drugs, the booze and the lack of eating that she can't even apply her make-up and stumbles around her house in a haze. It's a sure bet the meeting with Lance's girl will not go well. In fact, Lance and the girl bolt as soon as they walk in because Barbara is too drunk to even stand up.
Then comes her suicide attempt, though it's treated as only a blip. Winchell then tells us the entire history of her marriage to Rubirosa in six seconds. It only lasted that many weeks, or $66,000 a day considering what she spent on him. Lance turns 21 and there is a huge black tie affair, where even Cary Grant and Uncle Jimmy show up, but not Barbara. "Do you think your next father is here today?" Jimmy snarls after Lance introduces him to his fiance Jill St. John (Debbie Barker).
Lance has another surprise: he's now a race car driver. Friends, I don't want to alarm you, but no one in a miniseries becomes a race car driver without, well, you know (although this "you know" will have a twist). Lance has a terrible accident during one race where there is a wildly bad moment of continuity. Every time they show the crowd, it's very obviously stock footage of racing fans from the 80s, rather than the 50s. Barbara is so freaked out that she tries offering Jill money to get Lance to stop, but Jill refuses, saying, "if I can't him to stop for love, I certainly won't do it for money." We have to be nice to the character of Jill as she alone among the major characters was still alive when this movie aired (Prince Igor was still alive, but somehow I doubt he had any sway).
Barbara finally marries Baron Von Cramm, husband #6, the man she's always wanted, but there's a hitch. She sees it firsthand when she bursts into the bedroom one day and finds him with another man. Yeah, that hitch. I hate to side with the Nazis, but they did label him a homosexual and they were right. If it's any consolation, he has excellent taste, because the boy in the bed is hot! Barbara claims to have known all along, but didn't want to know about it. Barbara does depression in an interesting way, buying gifts for her friends, a house for the nanny, a villa for Pauline, pearls for Jean, who turns them down because she is a TRUE friend and wants nothing. With Jean in the room, Barbara hits on Jean's husband, and when they try to talk sense into her, she kicks them to the curb. This is the saddest break-up in the whole movie because Barbara only does it to spare them the agony of watching her downward spiral and they genuinely love her.
In Venice, Countess Barbara, haggard and ridiculous, gives a bracelet to a hanger-on who admires it, but a good-looking stranger, James Douglas (Tony Peck) intervenes, gets her back the bracelet and then goes to bed with her. Pillow talk reveals that he has a trust fund too. James is different, because he not only returns all her gifts, but he also tells her the truth about her drinking, drugging and spending. This monologue he delivers in a multi-colored satin dressing gown, so it's hard to take him seriously. She begs James to stay with her, but he says he'll do it only without her friends, even Pauline. Pauline had lavishly spent Barbara's money, so she should have been tossed years ago, but now we're finally rid of her.
The new couple goes off to Mexico, where she has a Japanese-style mansion, and she summons Lance, who is a pissy little brat. He takes an immediately dislike to young James. He also lays it all on the line for his mother, calling her a "drunken slut." "Face it, you never wanted a child," he says, before reminding her that her father didn't want her and now her son doesn't either. "You son of a bitch," James pipes in. "That's right, I'm a real son of a bitch. Good luck, maybe she'll raise you better than me," Lance carps as he storms out. She decides to to back to Tangier, where she can revel in her riches and ignore the rest of the world.
On the plane over, Farrah gets another showy scene where she's so drunk and hopped up that she has a nervous breakdown in the lavatory, calling out for her nanny and thinking James is Reventlow. She even tries to open the hatch. Things are not going well for our heroine (but great for Farrah).
At a party in Tangier, Barbara doesn't make an appearance and the guests won't leave. "Then pay them to go!" she roars at James, who is still trying to save her. Barbara pushes him away too, as she does all positive influences (Pauline is back with the rest of the leeches). James has no choice but to leave. It was nice knowing him, but watching Barbara crash is more fun, so stick-in-the-mud sober James wasn't going to be around long.
Meet Raymond Doan (Neville Jason) whose brother decides "they" will marry Barbara for her money and plot like greedy children. Their conversation is overheard by a friend, so Pauline and Barbara's boyfriend tell her to watch out, but she takes Raymond's side, getting rid of both of them. Pauline gets a teary "I've been a loyal friend" scene, but frankly, she won't be missed. Barbara quickly marries Raymond, much to the dismay of Cousin Jimmy and Graham, her longtime lawyer (David Ackroyd).
Jimmy has a teary goodbye scene with Barbara, which, by the television playbook should mean he will die in the next scene, but it's Lance who bites it in a plane crash as Barbara is having a nightmare about him. She senses the moment of death. Okay, that's a bit much, even for TV dramatics.
It's 1977 now and Graham has had to sell off Barbara's assets because she has no money. Barbara is basically bedridden, her skin see-through, looking far older than her 60some years. She battles Graham, accusing him of stealing her homes, her jewels and her money. She has nothing left, so Graham rips the pearl necklace off her neck to raise some cash. She tells him she thinks he's "the biggest con artist" she's ever met and dispenses with him too.
The finale has Barbara aged beyond recognition, even down to her wrinkled hands, unable to get out of bed and looking 150 years old. She puts on the finery she has left and accepts a visit from Cary Grant, the only man who didn't use her for her money. Farrah gets her last chance to go for the gold with her deathbed speech, looking horrendously ugly and regretting her life. The narrator tells us Barbara died in 1979, worth less than $3500.
Geez, by the time Barbara divorces Cary Grant, not one good thing happens to her and I'm not sure if "Poor Little Rich Girl" is really a glossy miniseries anymore or a high-budget morality tale. I still go with the former, because if the lesson is don't be like Barbara Hutton, none of us have to worry. There are too few people in the world who could afford that lifestyle, and they probably don't watch miniseries anyway.
Seven husbands, umpteen lovers, bad friends, a dead son, a dead mother, a bad father, a scary grandfather and a gazillion dollars. "Poor Little Rich Girl" came along at exactly the right time, at the height of the 80s flashiness. It made perfect sense at the time and still packs a kick, if only to gape at the reality of Barbara's life, as delivered to us through ideally-cast Farrah Fawcett, who would die her own untimely death after much drama (though not as much as the Hutton dame).
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