Lord Love a Duck

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.

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.

I first watched this movie about one year ago without knowing anything about it other than what is written on the back of the video box. Since that first viewing this movie has...well...haunted me. I can't get the theme song out of my head for one thing. The movie itself is a bizarre story about Southern California teens in the Sixties, but read the other reviews to learn about that. I agree with all of them. It is a great movie for all those reasons but there also seems to be something else. Almost a Felliniesque other-worldliness about it. I haven't been quite able to put my finger on it. Maybe that is why this movie has burned itself into my brain. There is some kind of, for lack of a better word, magical element to it. It is interesting to me how the other reviewers see this as a very important movie in their lives as well. It is a great film discovery on all levels. One of those overlooked gems that it is so important to hang onto.

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.

The early nineteen sixties were the great age of black comic satire in American cinema. Everyone remembers Doctor Strangelove and The Nutty Professor and Lolita and One Two Three and The Loved One.In a sense, this neglected masterpiece was the culmination. Even though Axelrod wasn't a genius like Kubrick or Wilder, this film hits its target just as unerringly. Think of it as a darker, much more savage Rushmore, in which almost all the false Gods of our civilization - phony preachers, psychoanalysis, public "education",consumerism, youth 'culture',- are weighed in the scales and found wanting. Roddy Mcdowall and Tuesday Weld give two of the great comic perfomances. Indeed, Mcdowall is inspirational to any would-be anarchist. Should be seen - and discussed - more often. Scorsese once listed this film among his "guilty pleasures": He has nothing to be guilty about-this is wonderful