Doris Wishman's film-making style was quite unique, and one could say informed by the Ed Wood approach of 'anything goes.' This project continues in that tradition, despite the fact it was completed after her death at age 90, and on video, not her usual format. Part of the charm of a Doris Wishman film is the off-kilter feel of (usually) beautifully photographed celluloid, juxtaposed with either plain or strange-looking actors speaking non-sync sound (dubbed in later, with sometimes a different actor).
It is too bad that this last project could not have been photographed on celluloid, since all the elements are there - a strange-looking cast (with a cameo from John Waters, and a performance by the B-52's Fred Schneider), outlandish acting and post-sync sound. The video image is murky, but knowing that Doris was still behind the camera is reassuring.
The plot is straight from a 1960's drive-in flick, the teens are proper (they still bring flowers to the girl with whom they're going steady because they gave them their class ring), and there is a charming 'out of pace with the times' feel.
The Florida-photographed locales, once sunny and bright in the 1950's nudist films that made Doris famous, now dark and foreboding in the twilight of her career, particularly when a kind soda-jerk who serves Coca-Cola with Cream gets brutally knifed in the woods, will make you yearn for the more colorful days of Chesty Morgan in the discotheque, speaking to a stranger in DOUBLE AGENT 73 about how well those kids can dance as she sips her cocktail.
Even in 2007, no matter how hard they try, they just can't make them like they used to. It's a good try, though. Thank you, and farewell Doris.
It is too bad that this last project could not have been photographed on celluloid, since all the elements are there - a strange-looking cast (with a cameo from John Waters, and a performance by the B-52's Fred Schneider), outlandish acting and post-sync sound. The video image is murky, but knowing that Doris was still behind the camera is reassuring.
The plot is straight from a 1960's drive-in flick, the teens are proper (they still bring flowers to the girl with whom they're going steady because they gave them their class ring), and there is a charming 'out of pace with the times' feel.
The Florida-photographed locales, once sunny and bright in the 1950's nudist films that made Doris famous, now dark and foreboding in the twilight of her career, particularly when a kind soda-jerk who serves Coca-Cola with Cream gets brutally knifed in the woods, will make you yearn for the more colorful days of Chesty Morgan in the discotheque, speaking to a stranger in DOUBLE AGENT 73 about how well those kids can dance as she sips her cocktail.
Even in 2007, no matter how hard they try, they just can't make them like they used to. It's a good try, though. Thank you, and farewell Doris.