Who Are You, Polly Maggoo? (1966) User Reviews

Abstract Art

[sb-47-608737 · 8/10 · 25 December 2018]

Klein might have been a photographer extraordinaire, but his movies are through distorted lens. To clarify, the distortion isn't always for worse. Picasso too could be called drawing distortions, and Klein's movies too are - the works of abstract art. In these abstract arts, it is difficult to really identify what is real, and what is the fantasy. It is left on the viewer to interpret it, through his/her own judgment. The premises of the movie is, The reality TV program, OK TV does a "Who Are You" series on various famous personalities, the real person behind the public appearance. In this segment, they have chosen their subject as the super-model, Polly Magoo. Though it is on surface on Fashion and Glamour industry, but it could be any other industry, which has a high degree of public exposure - movie actress, politician,.... The key person of the series, Grégoire (Jean Rochefort) tries to unravel the mystery of Polly (real life Super-model, Dorothy McGowan). He practically lives with her, shadowing her every moment, trying to understand the person, carrying out various psychological tests etc. Meanwhile there is a Prince of a foreign country, who had been obsessed with Polly, through her photographs, and as a result the Queen dispatches first spies to trace Polly, and the Prince follows, to make a Princess of her. In the sides, though in major roles in plot are two other characters, Miss Maxwell (Grayson Hall), as the Fashion Magazine editor (Publicist, if we think of it, in general, not limiting to the Fashion), and Isidore Ducasse (Jacques Seiler), the couturier (the manager/ adviser/ groomer/ secretary/ speech writer,...). The thick paint on her face, hides Polly's freckles and the fashion house had made an asset of some of her physical shortcomings (e.g. her rabbit like incisors or lack of bust). In this, the real person is lost. Till, the Grégoire tests brings out some of it (though she points out, he himself is living at no less masquerade than her). In the end, the Cinderall had to chose who was her real prince charming, Prince Igor (Sami Frey) or Grégoire (Jean Rochefort), and the end has me a bit confused about her choice, it could be either. Or was it that brain (to be a Princess) won. It seems to be so, considering the teenager as the passive observer in the crowd.

This not only seems a satire on Klein's boss, Diana Vreeland (as some reviewer had mentioned), but it seems to be very highly autobiographical. The two protagonists, Dorothy McGowan and Klein are still alive, so probably they could tell. This was the very last public appearance of any kind of screen, still or moving, by Dorothy, and she retired at the age of only 26 or so. She was born in Brooklyn (like Polly). If I take it as her biography, it looks to be surprisingly similar, was Klein : Grégoire or Isidore (the presenter) ? Was per chance Klein too enamoured with her, not only through Camera, or it was only professional obsession (Isidore). It could be like many Composers have with singers, when they write opera specifically for a particular one, or directors with actors (of either gender), without anything remotely amorous in their relationship). Was Prince Igor Didier Dorot, who took her away ? A movie need to be watched again, especially towards the end, though there are hidden meanings everywhere (including the dinner scene, where the people make fun with her name).

Fashion + Godard + beep-beep

[kurtralske · 8/10 · 8 October 2021]

Director William Klein was clearly having a lot of fun here. Who Are You Polly Maggoo? Is one crazy ride, like a clown-car blown sideways through the Parisian fashion district. The plot is a flimsy thing onto which wacky, manic set pieces are hung...Polly is modeling, Polly is being interviewed, Polly is being courted, people say nonsensical things with great aplomb. But like Godard's films of the era, the real action is the unpredictable flow of ideas, words, unrealistic scenarios, striking images. Unlike Godard, Polly Maggoo is genuinely funny. It's a delightful example of the pre-May '68 anarchic pop-art exuberance: everything is weird and wild, and nothing matters very much. Maybe Klein's satirical surrealism most closely resembles Robert Downey Sr's "Putney Swope", another goofy, confounding comedic confection that folks find either nonsensical or hysterical. Meanwhile on the pop charts, Gainsbourg and Bardot advocated for "Shebam! Pow! Blop! Whizzz!" -- and Klein was right back at them with a hearty "beep-beep!" Taken on its own terms, a loveable little film.

Nonsensical but fun

[zetes · 8/10 · 29 May 2016]

Lesser known French New Wave filmmaker (lesser known probably because he was actually an American directing movies in France) William Klein directs this crazy film about model Polly Maggoo (Dorothy McGowan). The film is narratively insane - it goes everywhere and anywhere on a whim without too much of a clear story. It's reminiscent of Godard's more fun films, or maybe even some of the stuff Richard Lester was doing at the time like Help! and The Knack. It satirizes both the fashion world and filmmaking (Maggoo is besieged by a filmmaking crew doing a doc on her). A lot of cool images here. Not for those who insist on a strong narrative, but I enjoyed it a lot.

Some Day My Polly Magoo Will Go-Go

[Gothick · 25 May 1999]

Too bad this European cult film of the Sixties, written and directed by an American whose photo documentary reportage on New York, Rome, and Tokyo is legendary, is all but impossible to track down here in North America. After years of fruitless searching I finally attended two screenings at the Whitney Museum of Art in 1997. The main draw in this film for me was Grayson Hall, who portrays Miss Maxwell, Editor of Vogue magazine--a character so closely based on Director William Klein's former boss Diana Vreeland, it's amazing Vreeland didn't sue for libel. Grayson Hall was flown over specially from America to do this. Try to get the original French language version--she spoke French and her accent, and delivery, are priceless. (She referred to the experience acerbically as "Hell, honey!") The film's eponymous star Dorothy MacGowan was chosen at random from a crowd shot of Beatles girls welcoming the Fab Four at a New York airport. MacGowan stands at the center of a wildly gyrating scenario that satirizes pretty much everything in mid Sixties French society that is or isn't nailed down--politics, fashion, the media, the idealization of rural life and French traditions--taking frequent detours into fantasy sequences and even including some animated segments that must have helped inspire the animated interludes in the original Monty Python series. The score by Michel Legrand has some brilliant moments, particularly during the opening sequence featuring sheet metal fabricated fashions; the rest of the film never quite lives up to the promise of this inaugural tour de force.

Still, as a time capsule of Sixties effulgence, it's well worth tracking down. Let's hope somebody "rediscovers" it and brings it out on video, pronto! With the original letterbox ratio, bien sur.

Where Is Your Film, William Klein?

[shanejamesbordas · 7/10 · 27 May 2008]

Although certainly superior to the other two releases in the Eclipse 3 DVD set of William Klein films, 'Who Are You, Polly Maggoo?' still suffers from the same debilitating loss of steam and shapelessness which bog down the later 'Mr. Freedom' and the prescient (if turgid) 'The Model Couple'.

After a promising start with a Paris fashion show, where rake-thin models parade through a cave in Dadaesque conical aluminium outfits, we are introduced to the eponymous heroine who is being profiled for a TV show which shares the films title. Dorothy McGowan is the unconventionally pretty (and highly appealing) Polly, whose life story is that of a 1960's Cinderella; plucked from obscurity from a crowd of Beatles fans at Kennedy Airport, as she was in real life, and rocketed to become the next supermodel. We are also introduced to an ennui glazed Prince, who fantasizes about procuring Polly, while the director of the TV profile slowly comes to find himself ensnared by her bemused charm. Cross-cut with this basic story are pretty pointless secondary characters who amount to little in the grander scheme of the film. There are the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern like dolts who go off to try and fetch Polly for their Prince (their absurdist exploits become highly annoying before long) and an sadly underwritten Rasputin-like figure who seemingly works for the Prince's mother.

Although often labeled as a critique of the fashion industry (surely a very soft target for satire) there is much more going on in the heart of this film. Klein has plenty of scope to pursue the meaninglessness of celebrity and how all (even those who posses it themselves) can succumb to the fantasy ideal that it enticingly instills in us, along with notions of individual self and the ever present critique of American vs. European sensibility. However, too many scenes are fractured away from the main points (the minutiae of the Prince's daydreams get rather tedious) and the change in mediums, like the animated sequences, seem thrown in to try and grab the audiences interest from floundering rather than present any real structural intention. Fantasy sequences such as Polly's daydream about the TV directors family (reminiscent in tone to the 1965 Terry Southern scripted masterpiece 'The Loved One') show some gripping vision but, again and again, Klein drops the ball by succumbing to the same excesses which would later characterize a certain type of 1960's film-making (such as the all-star spoof 'Casino Royale' or the great Alexander Mackendrick's directorial swan song, 'Don't Make Waves' - both released 1967).

As a visionary stylist, Klein excels but as a theorist and social commentator he flounders hopelessly in circular arguments and observations. As with the director's other fictional films, 'Who Are You, Polly Maggoo?' gives plenty in the way of wacky antics and visually impressive set-pieces but delivers little in regards to a coherent, tightly structured film experience.

Better sources of information available....we have seen this before...

[MarieGabrielle · 6/10 · 14 October 2008]

Perhaps, to be fair, I should re-watch the film, but at this point although it was a decent satire, there are so many more informative and entertaining films and books on this subject.

The film has some interesting scenes, and references to the emptiness and transitory nature of the profession as we see the documentary filmed on the streets of London. Grayson Hall ("Night of the Iguana")has an interesting cameo.

Overall, it seems the modeling industry is too complex, and variegated to be successfully depicted on film. Films such as "Unzipped" and "Seamless" touch on the subject. Television shows such as Darren Star's "Models Inc." can only graze the surface of a very moneyed and unpredictable business.

If you are truly interested in an expose on the modeling industry, you may want to read "Model" by Michael Gross, senior writer at Esquire and former fashion columnist for the New York Times. Former high fashion model Marie Helvin has also written "Catwalk", which proves very informative on this subject as well.

She's a model...the quest is to find the real woman behind the makeup

[moonspinner55 · 4/10 · 7 August 2017]

French satire of the fashion industry from director William Klein stars real-life Vogue model Dorothy McGowan as Polly Maggoo, a supermodel from Brooklyn now a sensation in France, being followed everywhere by a film-crew eager to find the real woman behind the glamour. Lots of targets (mostly dry little pokes at the pretensions inherent in the world of fashionistas), romantic fantasies, and behind the scenes indecision. Stylishly presented (if awfully choppy) in black-and-white, with some droll commentary, though its sense of humor is ultimately a matter of taste. *1/2 from ****

Sometimes interesting, always incoherent

[cherold · 4/10 · 2 February 2009]

Absurdist comedy is a tricky thing to get right. This movie manages well in the opening scenes, which involve a bizarre fashion show and model Polly being propositioned by a string of losers on the street, and at its best it is reminiscent of the early films of Richard Lester. The director, however, has no interest in, or is incompetent at, story telling, and the film becomes a hodgepodge of miscellaneous nonsense. Sometimes it is still interesting, and it is always visually striking, but at times the movie becomes so random, with characters speaking in long sequences of non-sequitors, that it was painful. At best, this is an interesting curio, but as a movie it's a failure.

Frantic, flippant and incredibly funny; one of my favourite films

[ThreeSadTigers · 12 May 2008]

At its heart, this is a blistering satire on the ideas of fashion and celebrity within the world of 1960's Paris, but more importantly, can be seen as a treatise on the extended themes of identity, personality and love. More obviously than that, however, the film can and should be seen as an exercise in pure cinematic style and an extension of the world created through art, music and fashion, in which the traditions and ideals of the pre-war generation were completely eroded, giving way to a world alive with ideas and radical free-thinking. The film reflects this notion throughout, becoming an extension of its own world as the filmmakers revel in moments of visual imagination, farce and philosophy, and all backed by a dizzying sense of post-modern abstraction that seems directly lifted from the iconic, early 60's work of director Jean Luc Godard.

Given the plot, themes and cinematic iconography, obvious parallels could be drawn with Godard's first masterpiece Une femme est une femme (1961), with the film flaunting ideas of post-modernism and self-reflexivity, whilst offering a playful narrative that looks at issues regarding gender, identity, equality and love. Throughout the film, director William Klein brazenly mixes elements of cartoon satire - with the absurd photo shoots and pretentious critics who invent words for the silliest of fashions - with more jarring bursts of cinéma-vérité inspired docudrama, with the film within a film and the always interesting notion of a self-aware narrative that is continually commenting on itself! With this, we can see yet another strong sense of Godardian abstraction, with the further influence of films like Vivre sa Vie (1962), Le Mepris (1963) and Pierrot le fou (1965) becoming apparent in the melange of post-modern ideas, both visual and textual. However, despite some of these more radical ideas, the plotting of the film and the overall reliance on character and intent are incredibly simple; creating a film that is bold, imaginative and intellectually stimulating, but also a great deal of fun.

The concept of the film revolvers around three central characters; the titular American fashion model currently taking Paris by storm; the faraway Prince Charming desperate to engineer a meeting with the model; and a middle-aged TV producer who sets out to lampoon Polly on his show, "Who Are You?", but eventually ends up falling madly in love. Both of the male characters view Polly as a dull cipher devoid of character, and indeed, these are the very same qualities that make them fall in love; that masculine idea of the perfect woman - stylish and beautiful, but devoid of personality and opinion. As the film continues, we discover more about Polly as a person and begin to see the formation of a definite personality that ultimately dwarfs the men in her life, showing them up to be shallow, outdated bores out of step with the more radical social changes currently taking place. In this respect, you could possible view the film as an early feminist manifesto, as Polly, faced with the choice between the wealthy Prince and the learned intellectual, instead decides to live life for herself.

The previous reviewer who dismissed the film seems to have missed the point somewhat. Although this clearly is a work of satire on the very broadest of levels, the focus goes much further than the fashion industry - and the (then) vibrant mid 60's scene - to incorporate broader notions of social status, gender issues and the widening generation gap. It isn't meant to be taken entirely seriously, with the unconventional music sequences, outlandish costumes, imaginative approach to editing, design and composition, and a mid-film segment of Gilliamesque animation, all intended to delight as opposed to disarm! If anything, I would say that the film is something of a precursor (in tone) to Jean-Pierre Jeunet's frothy character study Amelie (2001), but again, filtered through the lens of Godard circa 1961. For me, the joy of the film, with its light references to society and art, politics and sociology, really captures a mood and an atmosphere and, above all else, a visual experience, that is really second to none.

This is the only films of Klein's that I have seen so far, although I'm now desperate to see his subsequent films, Mister Freedom (1969) and The Model Couple (1978). The images presented here are stunning in their pop-art abstraction, reminding me of elements of Toshio Matsumoto's later film Funeral Parade of Roses (1969) and even Godard's political satire La Chinoise (1967), with the bold use of texture, design and the iconic compositions. This is to be expected from a celebrated photographer turned filmmaker immersed in the vibrant world of 60's Paris, however, there's much more to the film that simply gloss and imagination. The performances are all incredibly well-judged, from the enigmatic and unconventionally beautiful Dorothy McGowan as Polly, to the fine support from Jean Rochefort, Sami Frey, Grayson Hall and Philippe Noiret, who all manage to balance the elements of satire and abstraction, without becoming two-dimensional caricatures.

Some will obviously take issues with certain elements of the style, particularly anyone who isn't fond of early Godard or the broader aspects of the French New Wave; though, if you approach the film with an open mind and the right frame of reference the rewards are limitless. I saw the film last month at the BFI Southbank with a packed audience and the entire crowd were laughing and appreciating the jokes and enjoying that unique and imaginative sense of style, which climaxes with a wonderfully Roland Topor designed credit sequence and a catchy French pop title song. Who Are You, Polly Maggoo? (1966) is simply, without question, a great piece of film-making; a fast, funny and entirely flippant forgotten masterpiece that still stands as an exceptional work of comic-satire, pop art and pure cinematic expression.

After a promising start, just a lot of nonsense

[planktonrules · 3/10 · 4 September 2007]

This film began very well and I had high hopes until I realized it was an Absurdist film--one that deliberately doesn't make sense and is designed to make normal people feel left out and confused. It's really a shame, as the opening sequence at the fashion show was fun and had a great point to make about the absurdity of fashion (particularly in the silly late 1960s). The ladies are all wearing clothes made from what appears to be tin or aluminum and they look like total idiots--all the while, the elite declare the clothes to be brilliant and works of art. Unfortunately, after this great sequence, it seems like the rest of the film is a deliberate attempt to appeal to the "sophisticated" and snobbish art film lovers, as the film is filled with seemingly bizarre and pointless scenes. While the film was not made by a Frenchman, it was in French and the film fits well within the French New Wave movement--which viewers will probably either love or hate. As for me, this film was tedious and I did not enjoy it in the least. Perhaps I am just too Bourgeoise in my sensibilities (or perhaps I just want a movie that makes sense).

Far too deliberately random and incohesive for any of its best ideas to stick

[I_Ailurophile · 2/10 · 28 May 2023]

Whether it would be true or not I can easily see how Christopher Guest might have taken inspiration from this for his highly regarded mockumentaries, even in just the opening scene. Ben Stiller, too, and his collaborators, might have learned something from William Klein in concocting the satirical elements of 2001's 'Zoolander.' Whether more underhandedly or overtly, lightly or heavily, this pointedly pokes fun at high fashion - its garish emptiness, pretentious abstraction, and arbitrary assertion of value - and models, in how they are exploited, put into bizarre situations, upheld as exemplars of humanity, sexualized, pursued, and so on. Along the way Klein also takes potshots at television media, pop psychology, and more. With unmistakable arthouse sensibilities underlying the fundamental construction of the feature, sometimes recalling Jean-Luc Godard and his contemporaries and sometimes suggesting Terry Gilliam, it's safe to say there's a lot going on in 'Qui êtes-vous, Polly Maggoo?' The good news is that at its best, this is very smart and fun. On the other hand, the bad news: I'm far less than convinced, and I don't think this is the movie that it could have been. In fact, long before it comes to a close, my opinion has completely reversed.

The more focused this is on the title character, and/or notions of fashion or modeling, the more clever it is, and the more fun. There is too much of these 100 minutes, however, that pointedly diverges from any such central core. There are elements here of sketch comedy, and some bits are plainly farcical or absurdist rather than sagely satirical. Where the picture tries to introduce discrete narrative threads they mostly come off as a diversion, and maybe don't even really go anywhere; other ideas that the title aims to satirize are treated even more weakly than what is theoretically the central thrust, and serve to dilute the whole. Mind you, across the board the film is well made: excellent production design, and imaginative art direction; far-flung costume design, hair, and makeup; whimsical use of effects and post-production wizardry; sharp cinematography, and tight editing; swell performances; and so on. Yet the simple fact of the matter is that 'Polly Maggoo' tries so hard to throw in every wild, disparate thought it can, mostly stepping away from what it undeniably does best, that as the length draws on the viewing experience becomes less and less engaging.

Well and truly, I think there are good ideas here. Unfortunately, I don't think those ideas are used very well. This was made with obvious skill and intelligence, and once more, at its best and most carefully crafted it's terrific, bringing to mind other filmmakers who have played with the same style. Yet when all is said and done a regrettable preponderance of the runtime comes off as far too much randomness for its own sake, as any sense of intent or basic direction and guidance just goes out the window. Clearly there are many other people out there who really See this picture for what it is, and Understand it. I find myself plainly disappointed, as far more than not it's almost obscenely scattered, aimless and seemingly indiscriminate; very honestly, I don't know how we get from Point A to Point B from beginning to end. In the sheer slapdash ludicrousness of the assemblage, largely bereft of any discernible through-line, my interest is quickly lost, and watching becomes aggravating rather than enjoyable. Down to the last seconds, it becomes all but unwatchable.

This isn't the first movie I've ever watched that seemed promising at the outset only to increasingly tumble head over heels downhill afterwards, but it's the most broadly well-regarded to have met with so much disfavor in my personal opinion, and in such a distinct manner. To wit, two films I readily think of in the same way are wretched 1976 "comedy" 'Queen Kong,' and notorious 1987 misfire 'Ishtar' - though frankly, in their own manners, I think both these have a leg up on 'Polly Maggoo.' I'm glad for those who get something more out of this than I did, but I'm just not sure how they manage to do so. As far as I'm concerned this is just a messy hodgepodge of nothing, and whatever it is one hopes to discover in 'Qui êtes-vous, Polly Maggoo?' you're much better off looking for it elsewhere. This is saved from the absolute bottom of the barrel only for what meager value it does represent in some small portion, but at this level the distinction scarcely matters. Two thumbs down.