This film is a sequel in name only to Valley of the Dolls (1967). An all-girl rock band goes to Hollywood to make it big. There they find success, but luckily for us, they sink into a cesspool of decadence. This film has a sleeping woman performing on a gun which is in her mouth. It has women posing as men. It has lesbian sex scenes. It is also written by Roger Ebert, who had become friends with Russ Meyer after writing favorable reviews of several of his films. Written by
Mark Logan <firstname.lastname@example.org>
20th Centry Fox recycled costumes from several recent films in BVD, including a Sharon Tate lounge pants suite worn by Dolly Reed, a golden caftan worn by Anne Jackson in Secret Life of an American Wife worn by Lavelle Roby, and extras wearing cast off costumes from Myra Breckenridge. See more »
When Ronnie shoots Roxanne, blood gushes all over the gun. In the very next scene, when he lays the gun down next to the phone, it is spotlessly clean. See more »
Porter, you have an unending capacity for counterfeit astonishment.
See more »
Disclaimer: THE FILM YOU ARE ABOUT TO SEE IS NOT A SEQUEL TO "VALLEY OF THE DOLLS." IT IS WHOLLY ORIGINAL AND BEARS NO RELATIONSHIP TO REAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD. IT DOES, LIKE "VALLEY OF THE DOLLS" DEAL WITH THE OFT-TIMES NIGHTMARE WORLD OF SHOW BUSINESS BUT IN A DIFFERENT TIME AND CONTEXT. See more »
"Harris, make love to me!" "Where? Here?" "NO! IN L.A.!"
A 60s all-girl rock band decides to get in the van and head to Los Angeles to try to make it big. And they find it is super easy, and they make connections fast, but fame and fortune comes at an expense.
Although it claims to be unrelated, this is basically "Valley of the Dolls" made fun and trashy. Yes, this is the movie that is infamous for being written by Roger Ebert. Yes, this is a bad movie with appalling editing. Yes, this is tasteless schlock. But, it is tasteless schlock at its best. Even though the lead cast is comprised of (very lovely) Playboy pin-ups and models that look stoned half the time, they do a great job at portraying immediately corrupted innocents. I actually really enjoy the 60s soul garage music (even though none of the actresses actually played or sang, whoever played and sang for The Carrie Nations sounded damn good--the soundtrack has recently been released to CD, which I plan on picking up and playing at my next trashy dance party). I can watch this movie over and over again, and the unforgettable drug-soaked finale never ceases to shock me. But I really could do without the moralizing voice-over at the end. It makes me question whether or not the filmmakers were really serious about the psychotranny, abortion-pushing lesbian, and other disturbing colorful characters. My Rating: 8/10.
17 of 21 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful to you?