Change Your Image
Upload An Image
Crop And Save
Inside Daisy Clover (1965)
Daisy Clover - Get the Weed Killer!
Natalie Wood, Christopher Plummer, Robert Redford, Roddy McDowell, Ruth Gordon
what a cast! What a waste!
Sheer, unending boredom abounds in this Hollywood story. Wood is unbelievable throughout as the oh-so-talented tomboy. Her hair looks like a wool mop, and is styled in a mid-60s shag even though the story takes place in the mid-30s. There are two equally horrid production numbers featuring Wood one filmed in black and white ("Everything's coming up Clover," she warbles). Watch carefully at the beginning of the black and white song, you'll notice Wood shaking her head as if she can't quite believe it either. Poor Wood. They gussyed her up in the most gawdawful Scarlett O'Hara ballgowns and then made her run around in them barefoot to underscore what wild child she's playing. Much of the time, Wood does not even get to speak, but hangs her head and glares at the camera.
Katharine Bard, who plays the mogul's serene and seemingly noble wife, looks like late period Marlene Dietrich and serves no purpose other than to inform us of Redford's bisexuality. McDowell, playing a secretary, has exciting lines, most of them informing Wood that her car is waiting or that so-and-so is waiting. Gordon, maybe in character, maybe not, looks dazed and confused and longing for the whole thing to be over.
This flick does not even score points for camp value.
Flat and Pointless
Where is the energy of the first three Star Wars? This silly movie kept grinding to a halt with love scenes out of the poorest of Harlequin Romances. There is no sense of urgency, only a sense of Lucas trying to pave the way to the original Star Wars. As such, the movie cannot, and does, not stand up on its on as entertainment. And where did Lucas get the handsome but wooden guy playing Anakin? Yesh! Line readings so awful the theater was groaning!
By the way, a prediction for Episode III: C3PO will have to have his memories erased so that his behavior Luke's farm in the original film will make sense. Otherwise, he would be saying, "Oh my gracious! I know this place! I worked here for years! Miss Beru! How are you??!"
Bunny O'Hare (1971)
Perhaps the worst Bette Davis movie ever. So cheaply shot it looks like a college production. Davis acts with the high-pitched little girl voice that she patented in the final reels of "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" and, boy, is it annoying. Worse, Jack Cassidy is woefully unfunny as a conservative cop who sexually harasses and finally seduces his beautiful young assistant. Davis keeps those famed eyes covered with dark glasses for about 90 percent of the time. Skip this one: no entertainment or camp value.
The Definitive Wonder Woman
Considering that it's budget was miniscule compared to the Superman and Batman films, this TV movie is fun from the get-go. It is true to the spirit and tone of the 1940s comic, has a great supporting cast and, of course, Lynda Carter. Yes, it's campy at times, but it's in good fun. Cloris Leachman is not exactly Hippolyta, the warrior queen, but she has her fine moments too, especially when her masked daughter wins the tournament.
Reynolds and Winters and Blood
From the writer of "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" and "Hush .. Hush, Sweet Charlotte," this tail-end of the sixties horror cycle has some eerie and campy fun. Micheál Macliammóir does a Victor Buono-type bit, but too often the movie totters dangerously close to a bad musical ... there's a particularly awful children's recital about halfway through. Debbie taps, tangos and tricks up a lá Harlow, while Winters' religious fanatic has a lesbian edge to her. Agnes Moorehead checks in as an evangelist. Weaver has nothing to do - and even has to pay a gigolo to dance with Debbie.
While not "I'm No Angel" or "She Done Him Wrong," Mae's last is no better or worse than some of her late '30s films. The direction tries too hard for outrageous ... and misses, but you'll get at least a couple of chuckles.
I Live My Life (1935)
Crawford Plus Screwball Don't Mix
MGM's desperation for new Crawford ventures wafts over this overstuffed and un-funny 1935 production. The gowns are beautiful, she looks fantastic ... but look for no chemistry between Crawford and Aherne. "Fun" and "silly" escape Crawford's abilities. Yes, she rides a runaway mule, slips down a hill, and falls on her backside ... but all done with a grimly painted on smile. Her discomfort spans the decades.