Joanna

I knew there was something special about this movie after my law school roommate asked me out of the blue how many times I'd seen Joanna. Turned out he had another friend who spent every weekend looking for this movie in the theaters (we're talking pre-video tape days here folks). I remember being carried away by the romance of this movie, feeling totally part of the London scene it portrayed, and I liked Donald Sutherland (whom I'd never seen act before) quite a lot. I guess Genevieve Waite never made it big as a film actress, but that picture of her clothed only in a necktie that ran in the New York Times ad for this film, with the trailer "Cult Film of the Decade," sure made an impression on me in my early 20's. Highly recommended.

I saw it in 1968 in a theater in Willamette, Illinois and remember little of it now except for a dance line at the railway station and a sojourn in the desert. The reviewer ahead of me is probably right. Probably not a great movie but for some reason it struck me right at the time. I have been trying to find out anything about the film ever since. Only today did I find it here. I am happy to know it is not wholly forgotten. If anyone knows of a copy I would be very happy to see it

Director Michael Sarne would have the filmgoing public believe that the studios, the actors (in MYRA BRECKINRIDGE in particular), and 'the system' torpedoed his career. But, when one sees his single picture of note, JOANNA, on the big screen in a rare public showing - One discovers that the film world did not lose much. Composer Rod McKuen attended this weekend's American Cinemateque screening and revealed that the title character was a thinly autobiographical substitute for the director himself (Joanna's surname is 'Sarne' after all).

On paper, it would seem to make an exciting story - Young and handsome teen comes to London; Dresses in chic fashions; Hangs out with the 'in' crowd; Has sex with every other person one meets; Parties every night; Travels to exotic lands etc. How odd then that so much of the film wanders around aimlessly from venue to venue, from person to person, from incident to incident with so little meaning or consequence. It's rare that someone would find his own life so aimless. That aimlessness is certainly a part of what Sarne was after, but almost certainly not to the degree portrayed here.

To be fair, there are flashes of genuine artistic talent (and some can be mined from MYRA BRECKINRIDGE as well). The opening and closing title sequences are terrific, playful and inspired. Color, sound and editing are experimentmented with in interesting ways. A long sojourn to Morocco is both colorful and meaningful. The middle of the picture is indeed dominated by Donald Sutherland as a rich dude who takes Joanna and some friends to Africa. Affecting a bizarre stuttering accent, one can't help but be entertained, even if one suspects that much of the reaction of modern audiences is the result of familiarity with Sutherland more than the skill of the performance (indeed McKuen insisted that Sutherland's accent came and went so frequently that much of his performance had to be edited around and drowned in his music!).

Certainly an interesting document of its time (with the 'shocking' inclusion of not one but two interracial romances, free sex, and the intrusion of unnecessary violence into young people's lives - a nod to Vietnam?), JOANNA is a fascinating failure.

This film could almost be viewed as the "let's-get-real" answer to "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner", a film that probably still could not get made in the U.S. As a snapshot of "swinging London" in the sixties, "Joanna" has it all. But Donald Sutherland absolutely steals this movie as Lord Peter Sanderson; his strange, wonderful, secular soliloquy on a Moroccan beach at sunset still provokes both goose pimples and tears. South African actress Genevieve Waite, who plays the wide-eyed heroine, was declared persona non grata in her native country after making this film, solely because of her love scenes with Calvin Lockhart (she later emigrated to the U.S. and married John Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas). All in all, a strange, wonderful, campy, mystic trip to the sixties.

Mr. Sarne's portrait of an era, now seems often laughable and ludicrous, not unlike many other feature films that intended to demonstrate the importance of one single period, specially such a difficult one as the 60s - they just seem to loose their punch throughout the years. Although 'Joanna' does provide enjoyable, light moments, most of them are all too heavy handed, and unconnected. The movie relies on a number of senseless episodes to show us the story of a young woman yearning to find an adult identity in London, during the late 60s. What could be a sensible, lovely little story - if properly told - is wounded by Ms. Waite's inexperience, as she sleepwalks through the movie, and can only act appalled and shocked during the major conflicts of the story, Mr. Sarne's hideously pretentious, pompous direction, and Mr. Rod McKuen's tedious soundtrack, only highlighted at the movie's ending, in which the entire cast join in a train station singing the title tune - 'you fill our hearts with hope, your smile's like Cinemascope' - while Joanna departs to have her baby, still, as imature, childish and unprepared as she was in the beginning of the movie.