Lord Love a Duck

Sex suffused satire on something or other that may have been cutting edge in '66, but is no longer. Sure, I get the shaking beach butts of Gidget, the drive-in religiosity of SoCal car culture, or Mom's Playboy bunny cum' prostitute. Some movie parts of course are funnier than others. Trouble is, whether funny or not, they're poorly blended, unlike the better satires of the day—The Loved One (1965), Dr. Strangelove (1964). Unfortunately, the vignettes here sprawl without adding up.

What the film does have in spades is Tuesday Weld. If there was ever a better sex kitten with bite, I haven't seen her. She injects real spunk into the often lame proceedings. Plus, who would have thought that Peter Gunn's dignified torch singer, Lola Albright, could be so funny. Then too, what an inspiration getting Ruth Gordon to do her waspish bit, as a mother, no less. On the other hand, Mc Dowell tries hard, but he's caught up in a role that borders on the incoherent. Could be that his 35-year old teenager is supposed to make a profound statement, but if so, It's beyond me

As I recall, writer Axelrod's film got a lot of buzz at the time. After all, the mid-60's were a time of growing social ferment. Thus, the long-time lid on movies was at last coming off, and what these satirical films show is that black humor was definitely in the air. Trouble is, unlike Strangelove or Loved One, this film doesn't get beyond that time period. There's no unifying theme that could compensate for the meandering lamer parts. As a result, it's more like a regional (SoCal) artifact than anything lasting-- except, of course, for us fans of Tuesday, in which case it's a permanent fan fest.

I saw this movie in the theater as an eleven-year-old boy, and maybe once on tv more than two decades ago, and it's always remained one of my favorite flicks. I was ecstatic when my sister finally found it for me on video. And after watching it many many times now, I like it just as much, but find it harder than ever to classify. It has: low production values, a love story, teens at the beach, low-budget hijinks, tragedy, sardonic wit, depth and subtlety, really dark parts of the soul, and a wonderfully catchy-shlockly theme song. But all these elements are so wickedly blended that I'm not always sure what's simply a stupid joke and what is jabbing me roughly in my subconscious. It was written, produced and directed by George Axelrod, who has some weighty credentials, including writing and producing "The Manchurian Candidate", so the movie's superficial resemblance to a very cheap 60s teen flick is deceptive, though it's great fun on that level. But the fun parts always carry jagged unseen edges, and any serious commentary is always done wildly tongue-in-cheek. I can't predict who might like this flick, it is too distinctive to categorize, but if you're the type to gamble on an unknown movie that could become a personal lifetime favorite, check this one out.

What strikes me most about this film is its intelligence. The main character, nicknamed Mollymauk after a bird, is a genius, with deep understanding of science, martial arts (he can kick ass), psychology (he can manipulate people at will and hypnotizes Tuesday Weld's character), etc.

McDowall plays the main charcter Alan, nicknamed Mollymauk after a South African duck, THALASSARCHE MELANOPHRYS, in love with the popular Barbara Ann (Tuesday Weld in tight sweaters). At times he is shot in profile making his nose look beak-like. He does a great job, and makes the movie believable.

Although it is a comedy, and has plenty of funny moments, what meant most to me was its criticism of a society which fosters selfishness and lacks any authentic empathy, and its portrayal of Alan's deep love for and devotion to Barbara Ann, which causes him to use his almost super-power level problem-solving and social-engineering skills to fulfill her wishes and dreams without expecting anything in return.

The film is great for its insights into human nature and its parody of conventional high school education and of society. It is well worth seeing, but the main character is complex and not completely sympathetic. He screeches and cavorts like a bird, but instead of coming across as wild and beautiful, he sounds twisted and in pain- which he is, like any adolescent who longs for love, intimacy and understanding but doesn't get any. He seems to create a cult about his his own character, often referring to himself in the third person as Mollymauk. His manipulation and control of others is disturbing as well, even though many people treat each other this way, and so the film has a disturbing effect- it's not a "feel-good" movie.

This film is a brilliant black comedy on par with Dr. Strangelove and that's not being hyperbolic. It's incredible that this film is unknown, it ought to at least be a cult favorite. By turns strange, hilarious, bizarre and even moving, if you haven't seen this you should. It is unlike any movie I've ever seen. I first saw it when I was a teenager when it came on an afternoon movie showing. (This was before the afternoon dial was filled up with Jerry Springer and his ilk.) I'm sure at least twenty minutes to a half hour were cut out of it to make room for commercials but I knew instantly this was something special. Something different. Something that touched a nerve where other movies had completely passed me by. And as if that weren't enough, the scene with Tuesday Weld going shopping for sweaters is my choice for the single most erotic scene in the history of movies. Get it. Watch it. Consider yourself a cut above the rest because you are in for something special.

First time I saw this I could hardly believe the many, many visible boom mikes throughout the film. Loved the picture regardless, and now I've come to accept those boom mikes as characters as central to LORD LOVE A DUCK's frazzled beauty as Roddy McDowall & Tuesday Weld, its stars.

Most knowledgeable film fans hold 70s films in reverence for their embracing of a deeper, richer reality more inspired by novels than by prior Hollywood films. 60s cinema tends to suffer by comparison: it often seems like a clumsy standoff between the death-throes of the old studios and their formulas, and the insisting beating on the door of a new, artistic, more experimental aesthetic: DUCK is one of those, subverting the soundstage-bound Mickey & Judy cliches by emulating that shot-on-indoor-sets look, with the vital modification of peopling this familiar artifical environment with the hyperAmerican grotesques who routinely populate Geo Axelrod's universe. Thus, like a lot of the best 60s movies, DUCK is part-fish, part-fowl and suffused with an atmosphere of strangeness beyond its subject matter - yet, given how Real Life in that decade similarly swayed on unsteady footing in two seperate realities, it works beautifully. And it definitely doesn't hurt that Tuesday Weld is a goddess of apple-cheeked carnality and conspicuous consumption. She may not be Everywoman exactly, but she IS Everywoman who ever dreamed of marrying Elvis, and that's good enough - like the King, you can't help falling in love with her. As has been noted, the 'cashmere sweater' scene is among the most erotic scenes ever caught on film - unnervingly so, given she's playing the scene with, and for, her father.

The movie is chockfull of scenes that similarly push black humor and social satire past the threshold of good taste or story logic; you're either going to go with it, or reject it altogether. I recommend the former: like a lot of underrated and outright ignored 60s movies that don't comfortably fit into any standard category, LORD LOVE A DUCK rewards the viewer who's willing to suspend disbelief for an hour-and-a-half with a totally absorbing and unique unreality all its own. It's a buzz you can only get from an American film made between JFK and Tricky Dick, and it's a hoot besides.