Vince-5
Joined Apr 2001
Welcome to the new profile
We're still working on updating some profile features. To see the badges, ratings breakdowns, and polls for this profile, please go to the previous version.
Reviews100
Vince-5's rating
It's hard to explain why, but this coming-of-age story struck me as highly appealing. Some say that it pales in comparison to Judy Blume's novel; since I haven't read the novel, I wouldn't know. It's a simple story: Fresh-faced Kath (Stephanie Zimbalist) has her sexual awakening with the local blonde hunk, only to find that life is slightly more complicated than One Perfect Love, Forever. And that's okay.
When I tuned in, Dean Butler was sweeping Kath off her feet to the tune of "Cherchez La Femme." How many times do you hear Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band on the soundtrack of a movie, let alone a TV-movie? I was locked in place with fascination. Why? Because this movie exemplifies the look and feel of the 1970s in every frame. Shots of the kids playing Pong and doing the Hustle are presented without self-consciousness, not as condescending self-reference, but simply as teenage behavior. The '70s hold a strong appeal for me--the clothes, the music, etc. Forever was made before the world became the uptight, shrill, boring, ugly place it is now. Seeing as I was born in 1983, these feelings might be carry-over from a previous existence. At any rate...
The acting is thoroughly convincing. Zimbalist is likable, but the best turns come from Beth Raines (as her Janis Ian-style best friend) and John Friedrich (as a repressed would-be thespian); also noteworthy is a pre-Mommie Dearest Diana Scarwid as wild girl Sybil. I like the presentation of sex (and sexual responsibility) in a positive light, without any heavy-handed "moral" crap. Nowadays, no TV movie would dare present sex between young people from such a perspective. More's the pity. The wonderful less-than-slick, quasi-verite photography and dialogue are also something you're not gonna see again any time soon. Same for realistic-looking actors who don't resemble surgical freaks or Gap rejects.
Granted, there are moments that will trigger the why-the-hell-am-I-watching-this response in some individuals. For example, when the young couple hike through the mountains as Jennifer Warnes delivers "Right Time of the Night" on the soundtrack, you half-expect to see a frosty bottle of beer superimposed over the action. At some moments, the material seems to have been altered for television, with censor-friendly terms uncomfortably wedged in in place of swearing. There are times when the movie is downright awkward in its sincerity ("I wet my dress," murmurs Kath after setting off a burglar alarm). But the whole story is about being awkward and confused; many would say that adolescence is about being awkward and confused. And you learn from it. And we are left with the EMI logo and the gravel-throated voice of Stevie Nicks.
When I tuned in, Dean Butler was sweeping Kath off her feet to the tune of "Cherchez La Femme." How many times do you hear Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band on the soundtrack of a movie, let alone a TV-movie? I was locked in place with fascination. Why? Because this movie exemplifies the look and feel of the 1970s in every frame. Shots of the kids playing Pong and doing the Hustle are presented without self-consciousness, not as condescending self-reference, but simply as teenage behavior. The '70s hold a strong appeal for me--the clothes, the music, etc. Forever was made before the world became the uptight, shrill, boring, ugly place it is now. Seeing as I was born in 1983, these feelings might be carry-over from a previous existence. At any rate...
The acting is thoroughly convincing. Zimbalist is likable, but the best turns come from Beth Raines (as her Janis Ian-style best friend) and John Friedrich (as a repressed would-be thespian); also noteworthy is a pre-Mommie Dearest Diana Scarwid as wild girl Sybil. I like the presentation of sex (and sexual responsibility) in a positive light, without any heavy-handed "moral" crap. Nowadays, no TV movie would dare present sex between young people from such a perspective. More's the pity. The wonderful less-than-slick, quasi-verite photography and dialogue are also something you're not gonna see again any time soon. Same for realistic-looking actors who don't resemble surgical freaks or Gap rejects.
Granted, there are moments that will trigger the why-the-hell-am-I-watching-this response in some individuals. For example, when the young couple hike through the mountains as Jennifer Warnes delivers "Right Time of the Night" on the soundtrack, you half-expect to see a frosty bottle of beer superimposed over the action. At some moments, the material seems to have been altered for television, with censor-friendly terms uncomfortably wedged in in place of swearing. There are times when the movie is downright awkward in its sincerity ("I wet my dress," murmurs Kath after setting off a burglar alarm). But the whole story is about being awkward and confused; many would say that adolescence is about being awkward and confused. And you learn from it. And we are left with the EMI logo and the gravel-throated voice of Stevie Nicks.
I had the pleasure of seeing this lurid chunk of celluloid camp on television last night. It's a candy-bright trash-o-rama about a secretary (Lauren Bacall) who marries into a filthy rich oil family only to find a more general kind of filth under the gloss of privilege and public respectability.
Oddly enough, both Bacall (usually the epitome of strength and gravity) and Rock Hudson are given fairly bland roles, always remaining above the hideously dysfunctional quagmire that surrounds them. They're too "good" to be very interesting. The characters at the opposite end of the spectrum are what keep our attention. Once soaked in alcohol, a pre-Unsolved Mysteries Robert Stack is immensely entertaining as tormented, pistol-waving Kyle, upset over his inability to conceive the children needed to complete the little American Nightmare in rich-people hell.
However, this decidedly cracked soap is dominated by Dorothy Malone as Marylee, the boozed-up, fast-driving slut with the temperament of your average cobra. Malone won a well-deserved Oscar for her astonishing, one-of-a-kind performance--all bulging eyes and twitching lips, like a drag queen in heat, spewing acid at the other members of the cast. From her wild mambo of death (!) to fondling a model oil derrick (!!!), she is a hilarious delight. Aren't the bad girls always more interesting? Other reviews talk about her being "reformed" at the end. I, personally, did not see that. Yeah, she's upset...but with someone like Marylee, how long is that gonna last?
Later parodied by John Waters's Polyester, Written on the Wind is a seamy, steamy don't-miss. In gorgeously saturated Technicolor.
Oddly enough, both Bacall (usually the epitome of strength and gravity) and Rock Hudson are given fairly bland roles, always remaining above the hideously dysfunctional quagmire that surrounds them. They're too "good" to be very interesting. The characters at the opposite end of the spectrum are what keep our attention. Once soaked in alcohol, a pre-Unsolved Mysteries Robert Stack is immensely entertaining as tormented, pistol-waving Kyle, upset over his inability to conceive the children needed to complete the little American Nightmare in rich-people hell.
However, this decidedly cracked soap is dominated by Dorothy Malone as Marylee, the boozed-up, fast-driving slut with the temperament of your average cobra. Malone won a well-deserved Oscar for her astonishing, one-of-a-kind performance--all bulging eyes and twitching lips, like a drag queen in heat, spewing acid at the other members of the cast. From her wild mambo of death (!) to fondling a model oil derrick (!!!), she is a hilarious delight. Aren't the bad girls always more interesting? Other reviews talk about her being "reformed" at the end. I, personally, did not see that. Yeah, she's upset...but with someone like Marylee, how long is that gonna last?
Later parodied by John Waters's Polyester, Written on the Wind is a seamy, steamy don't-miss. In gorgeously saturated Technicolor.
Bride of Monster Mania is a thoroughly entertaining TV special. The obvious highlights are the horror-film clips and trailers--including come-ons for The Exorcist, Carrie, Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde, and Queen of Blood--that hold everything together. The innocuous narration and interviews with various psychiatrists and women's-group leaders aren't nearly as interesting. BUT THEN...we are treated to a surprising interview with scream queen/Bond girl Martine Beswick! An actress who we don't see nearly enough of, the still-lovely Martine provides her perspective on the sexual power of women in horror cinema, particularly her classic turn as Sister Hyde. If they had dug up more horror goddesses to interview (Barbara Steele, etc.), it would have been a much better program. Still, it's quite pleasing as it is. Watch for it around Halloween.