Boom!

`Boom' is a blast! This is one of the most fun of the Burton - Taylor films. "Boom" is also a gassy misfire that draws one into the veiled world of aging homosexual desire disguised as a heterosexual struggle between an aging, dying woman and the unattainable youth in the angel of Death.

This is story wearing a beard. Taylor's role is really that of an aging rich gay man who is trying to hang on to youth and the beauties that great beauty attract. After all, her name is `Sissy'. Burton's role is that of the hustler who is all that is left for the old queen to attract. But as with so many Williams works it all must be encrypted and coded so that the America of the late 50's and early 60's could handle his true intentions, the soft underbelly of his plays. Burton is too old for the role that was written for a man in his twenties and Taylor is too young and too healthy looking to be the dying Sissy. But despite that, the story of a struggle of great wealth against the inevitable grows from loopy strangeness to a compelling and moving ending. Here Taylor gives one of her oddly finest post Virginia Woolf studies in a dramatic/comic performance. There is in fact so much subversive humor in her performance that she is at times hilarious. Her vocal range dances from the shrill to the silly to the grand dame and all to serve her imperious and ultimately terrified Sissy Goforth. In the last desperate half hour of the film she does some of her finest work. Burton is rather cool and distant at first but builds his Angelo De Morte into a truly fine character study. In particular, listen to his fine delivery of the speech about the old man in the sea.

Particular note should be made of the cinematography, which is gorgeous, and the stunning sun washed bone toned opulent glamour of the sets. I understand that the Burtons owned the house in Sardinia for a while after the film was completed. The spare and haunting score by John Barry is an added delight to his impressive repertoire. And for you jewelry fans there is plenty of Miss Taylor's own jewelry on hand. So get out your copy of `My Love Affair With Jewelry' my Elizabeth and thumb along as she parades her diamonds in the Mediterranean sun.

Campy? Yes! Great? Maybe we will know about that in another 40 years. Is it worth your time? Only if you like a challenge and are willing to let the Burtons take you into the world of Tennessee Williams camp classic.

This is a film about the super-idle superrich and the people who participate in their deathwatch. The film is minimalist in nature having only a cast and a set that supports the deathwatch theme. It is probably a difficult movie to watch because it has absolutely nothing to say about life and living. William's script creates a Dante-ish abstraction of a death journey with incredibly tight and sharp dialogue that is matched by the director's use of space and time. The only problem I have with the production is the totally inept lighting direction. Here we have a Mediterranean sunwashed villa as the set of the final human drama with very little sense of light and heat.

The whole cast, what there is of it, are essentially giving solo performances. Even when they are in each other's arms they seem to be issuing soliloquies. This produces a very interesting effect of "who's on first". Everyone has such a good part with such good lines its hard to tell who to focus on. The real treat was the Taylor-Coward jousting at the dinner table. I've never seen Noel Coward before and this part seemed to be written for him. Taylor hated her part in this film but it appeared the director was allowing the cast to develop their parts themselves judging from the reading flubs that were left in the final cut.

I'm not going to say anything about the story. It should be seen by those who are looking for a Tennessee Williams interpretation of death at the top. Suffice it to say, in response to the waves crashing on the rocks below: "boom...the shock of each moment of still being alive".

I rate this a 5 out of 5. I would have rated it a 4 out of 5 if there was no close-up of Taylor's eyes.

Joseph Losey would have turned 100 on 14 January 2009 had he lived and it seems appropriate that I should commemorate that anniversary a day late and with this very film because: a) it deals with a much-married dying woman looking back on her life and b) it misses the mark of being a good movie. Actually, for most people, it does much more than the latter and is an unmitigated disaster, a serious blot on the careers of a handful of talented people: director Losey, playwright-screenwriter Tennessee Williams (who boldly claimed this was the best film ever to be made out of his own plays!) and lead actors Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. On the other hand, the ones who generally escaped the critical trashing with their dignity intact were cinematographer Douglas Slocombe (shooting in the lovely Mediterranean island of Sardinia), composer John Barry (who provides a terrific and playfully eclectic score) and supporting players Noel Coward (making a droll appearance as the Witch of Capri) and Joanna Shimkus (as Taylor's long-suffering secretary). For one thing, the Burtons were both miscast, with her being far too young – she was just 36 at the time – and him too old for their roles (Tallulah Bankhead and Tab Hunter, respectively, had originally played those parts in the equally catastrophic stage version)! The fact that BOOM is one of eccentric film-maker John Waters' all-time favorites is a clear sign that the movie's reputation (bad or cult, depending which side of the fence one happens to be on) rests squarely on its high camp quotient: Taylor's constantly shrill, foul-mouthed delivery (including the occasional line in massacred Italian) – which, again, can be downright annoying or mildly amusing – and her parading in an incredible Kabuki costume to the strains of live sitars; "Angel of Death" Burton's walking around (hair blowing in the wind) in a samurai warrior's attire and brandishing the proverbial sword on the ledge of Taylor's clifftop villa; diminutive bodyguard Michael Dunn unleashing his pack of wild dogs on intruder Burton, etc. In the long run, however, what really saves the film for me – apart from those assets already mentioned at the top – is Losey's mise-en-scene which, from the very first shot to the last, is remarkably cinematic and inventive – in spite of his allegedly hitting the bottle quite hard during production (which did not prevent either of the Burtons from working for him once more, albeit separately)!

Adaptated by Tennessee Williams from "The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore", he obviously pulled in a few of his old friends to get this done. It's a gender-bending allegory with Liz Taylor as rich, dying Sissy Goforth, a bad-tempered recluse in her remarkable clifftop Mediterranean villa. Along comes Dick Burton, a freeloader-cum-Grim Reaper figure who sees it as his mission to help ladies in extremis.

Neither of them are right for their roles, but that only adds a certain fascination - a totally earnest rendition would be dull and pretentious. Taylor lets rip here and it's a riot. The highlight is her dinner with Noel Coward playing a role originally meant for a woman. She is wearing an utterly outrageous kabuki outfit while Coward camps it up like there's no tomorrow, which is no doubt the film's theme.

The script is full of naff psychology, Taylor is shrill and unpleasant, Burton looks like he's on vacation. With this set-up, Losey hasn't the slightest chance of delivering his usual sophisticated, simmering subtlety, and maybe that was fortuitous - this is so godawful it's brilliant.

How can a film be a 10 and a 1 at the same time? As serious art, Boom is a bomb. Yet, as a testimony, a very camp testimony, to the lives of Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, Noel Coward, and Tennessee Williams, it is literally hysterical. As the Age of Aquarius was dawning on America, what were these pioneers of love, lust, decadence, and existential meaning to do? What is there to say, to do, to perform, two years after Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? 1968. the play Hair is delighting Broadway. The hippies have overtaken the Beats. Where can the stars go? To the Old World, Europe, Italy, Capris... The movie reveals their state of mind: preoccupation with death, the emptiness of wealth, sex, and luxury. As we watch this undeniably amusing costume melodrama, we can't help wondering just what Taylor and Burton's "real" life there in Sardinia must have been like. Did they throw tantrums when their whims went unsatisfied, or was it the opposite? I'll have to leave the answer to the biographers. But this film makes it impossible not to imagine them all there in Italy, trying with desperation NOT to be what they were portraying. That is what makes the film intriguing.