La Vallée des poupées

The film adaptation of Valley of the Dolls is stupid, empty, overly melodramatic...and a lot of fun!

Jacqueline Susann's 1966 novel is my all-time favorite, and her gritty, glossy pulp material was severely diluted for the big screen. That is the main problem. Too many punches are pulled, the characters are sweetened up, and a completely ridiculous happy ending (which Jackie hated) is substituted for the book's bleak, satisfying conclusion. Mark Robson's film has none of the spirit of its basis.

With that out of the way, the movie is very enjoyable for what it is: An unintentional laugh riot. The dialogue is hilarious and eminently quotable--"Boobies, boobies, boobies! Nothin' but boobies! Who needs 'em? I never had any! Didn't hurt me none!" Most of the supposedly "dramatic" and "touching" scenes are a scream. Patty Duke is priceless as the speech-slurring, tantrum-throwing, self-destructive Neely O'Hara. Watch her flailing around during the "It's Impossible" number; notice the embarrassing position of her beads. Barbara Parkins seems to have taken one Seconal too many before shooting, as she appears to be completely anesthetized. Susan Hayward gets to bellow a lot, fight with Duke, and get her wig thrown into a toilet in the most famous scene. The only one who comes off really well is Sharon Tate, a talent who never got the attention she deserved in life. Hers are the only genuinely affecting moments in the film, especially her final scene.

The candy-colored photography is good, beautifully capturing the glossy red capsules taken at every turn. The hair and fashions are glamorous--and so is the hairspray can! Dionne Warwick sings the beautiful theme, and the rest of the songs are enjoyably silly. I have the soundtrack LP--TWO copies! In conclusion, the ultimate camp classic! I'm off to take another doll now....

Probably my favorite film of all time. The best classic trash, with the greatest costumes, and the biggest hair! Watch for the poolside scene in which Patty Duke, Martin Milner, and Sharon Tate all say "fag"! I'm sure everyone on Earth noticed the famous "beads-around-the-breasts" shot, so we won't go there. My favorite line: Barbara Parkins tells Patty Duke that she shouldn't be taking her "dolls" with alcohol, and Patty says "It makes 'em work faster."

There's nothing I can add to the many hilarious and trenchant comments of other IMDB users--"Valley" will live forever as one of the greatest bad movies ever. But here's something nobody else has picked up on. The scene when Patty/Neely discovers hubby Ted cavorting in the pool with another woman? Well, before Patty/Neely sees them, she hears splashing and giddy, girlish laugh. That splash and laugh are Marilyn Monroe--audio from her famous nude swim scene in "Something's Git To Give," the movie she never finished.

Somebody at 20th Century Fox--MM's home studio--had a perverse sense of humor!

This movie truly is badly done and campy. However, there is one good reason to watch it: Sharon Tate. She was truly one of the screen's all time beauties (if you disagree at first, name someone prettier =)

She is not a bad actress either and did her best with the forced, artificial dialog. Overall the movie has virtually no suspense or drama or tension it just chugs along predictably with one badly written scene after another. Then all of sudden Wham! Sharon appears and you stop caring about the worthless "plot" and watch her. She steals all her scenes and makes the other actresses invisible.

All in all its a bittersweet vehicle for an extraordinarily lovely woman who met a very violent and tragic end.

This is it, kiddies, the Grande Dame of camp classics. The sheer ineptitude of everyone involved is staggering. Mark Robson directs without a trace of nuance or subtlety; Patty Duke and Susan Hayward come off as boozy drag queens; Sharon Tate and Barbara Parkins look and act as if they had taken one downer too many; Dory and Andre Previn's musical numbers are as funny as those in "The Operetta"--the "I Love Lucy" episode which parodied musical theater; Billy Travilla concocts some of the most glamorously god-awful gowns ever seen; and Kenneth (of Hairstyles by Kenneth, of course) must be personally responsible for the hole in the ozone layer, so lacquered, teased and towering are his creations. But, you know what? IT ALL WORKS. The source material--Jacqueline Susann's groundbreaking, scandalous novel--begs for sledgehammer direction, overripe acting and eyepopping fashions. Certainly, subtlety was not a hallmark of Jackie's work. If anything, VOTD should have been even MORE over-the-top. Due to restrictions of the time, the film is sadly devoid of such juicy plotlines as Jennifer's lesbian affair, Tony's preference for - ahem - rear-entry intercourse, and Neely walking in on Ted Casablanca's tryst with another man. What we have, instead, is an endlessly entertaining piece of cinematic trash that is nowhere near as racy as it would like us to believe; and that's part of its twisted charm. Because it fails on so many levels--as true art, as explicitly sexual titillation, or as a faithful adaptation of a popular book--it's downright inspiring that it comes together so brilliantly. VOTD's ultimate triumph is that, despite its incredible waste of talent, time and money, 30 years later, we're still watching.