Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mamma's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' So Sad

In fact, I saw first the play in the 70's, in my city, Barcelona, in a very good performance, and the public was very delightful. As a curiosity: the role of the Mother was played... by a man! That gave a satirical and extravagant turn to the show. Unfortunately, the film of Quine is, sadly, a disaster: a comedy without grace, very boring and it is a pity that such a talented director fall so low in this movie: it is very difficult to complete the vision of this film. The impression of the play was that it is a experimental comedy. But the impression of the film is that it is a very nonsense history with characters very ridiculous.

I've seen the film AND read the play, which I think makes me unique. It also makes me queasy. The word `queasy' is not a staple of my vocabulary, for some reason, but it leapt readily to mind as a precise description of how this miserable, grotty-looking, dull, funny-as-chloroform movie made me feel, and will make you feel, too, if you're not careful. The play was little more than a foray into a now extinct breed of artiness. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that it has never been produced anywhere in the world since 1970 - and hopefully, the sun will grow cold before it is produced anywhere ever again. The film is a botched version of the play, AND a foray into extinct artiness in its own right. Moreover I think something was wrong with the film stock. The very colours upset my stomach.

Here is what remains of the plot synopsis, excluding that which has been so wittily summed up by the title: a widow has had her dead husband stuffed; she lugs his preserved corpse around wherever she travels; she has an idiot son who is sort of undergoing a sexual awakening (DON'T expect anything salacious); and that's about it. Every so often the dead father will appear in a little bubble in the top right-hand corner of the screen and comment on what, if anything, is going on. Sometimes he'll talk to his son. Sometimes he'll address the audience, with lines like, `Not much will happen in the next few minutes.' If he'd been honest, he would have added, `And not much will happen after that, either, so if you're thinking of walking out, cut your losses and do so NOW.'

Don't get me wrong - the 1960s was the tail end of Hollywood's golden age, producing delightful throw-backs like **** and stunning new masterpieces like ****. (I'm sorry - I simply couldn't bear to see the names of two of my favourite films associated in any way with this one.) But it was also the Decade of Floundering. If you want to see just how badly Hollywood was floundering in the 'sixties, by all means watch this movie - but you'll probably decide that you didn't really want to know, after all.

I don't think I'll ever understand the 60's? What a wacky time! Somewhere between civil rights marches, Vietnam, moon landings, LSD, and the myriad of other things that came put of that time, also came some of the oddest movies ever. Major studio's seemed to be dumping large sums of money into strange films some that come to mind, Otto Preminger Skidoo, The Beatles Magical Mystery Tour, and the film I'm about to review, OH DAD, POOR DAD, MAMMA'S HUNG YOU IN THE CLOSET AND I'M FEELING SO SAD.

The film based on the stage play by Arthur L. Kopit (The Stage Musical PHANTOM, not to be confused with Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical.) and stars veteran character actor Rosalind Russell (His Girl Friday) as Madame Rosepettle. Madame Rosepettle is an eccentric overbearing women. She's the kind of women who sucks the air out of any room she's enters. She has many strange quirks like that fact that she has two Venus flytraps she loves to take care of and a tank full of Piranhas that eat Siamese cats. Oh yeah and when her husband died she had him stuffed and she keeps him in a closet.

Her son Johnathan (Robert Morse, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying) is 24 years old and act like he's five. His mother keeps him indoors at all time, keeping him busy with stamp collections, edited books, and a telescope.

As the film begins we watch as Madame Rosepettle and her son land in Jamaica. They are staying at a first class resort for the summer. There they meet the beautiful Rosalie (Barbara Harris, Gorse Pointe Blank), the resorts baby sitter whom falls for Johnathan and Commodore Roseabove (Hugh Griffith, Start the Revolution Without Me) a crazy ship captain who pines for Madam Rosepettle. All these characters meet up and well, all hell breaks loose.

Did I forget to mention Johnathan Winters receives top billing in this film as Dad the Narrator?

This film is bad, but it has too much spunk to be unwatchable. It is vibrant; the story has life, and the actors all do a great job of creating these lively and humorous and malajusted characters. What weighs the film down into mediocrity is Johnathan Winters. He does narrate this film. But not the story, he narrates the action, and every time he does we see this small freeze frame of his face pop up on screen. A gimmick that stops the film cold dead in its tracks, I'll bet some Paramount bigwig said this movie makes no sense, we have one of the biggest comedians of the day why waste him in such a small role. There are perfect comedic and dramatic beats in this film destroyed by Winters banal comments.

The single greatest sequence in the film is a short silent movie narrated by Madame Rosepettle. It's so perfect, it so crazy, and it is flawless in delivery. It in of itself would make a fascinating short.

Honestly, this film is the comedic answer to Psycho. It's about a boy's relationship to his crazy mother. It's kinda funny, but Robert Morse also has a stunning resemblance to Anthony Perkins. It's not Psycho, it isn't anywhere close, but it's a lot of campy fun and in the same vein. If you like great bad movies, I'd try to track down a copy of this film.

If you're a fan of camp, if you want to wallow in the bad seek out OH DAD, POOR DAD, MAMMA'S HUNG YOU IN THE CLOSET AND I'M FEELING SO SAD.

Prior to my seeing Oh Dad, Poor Dad I confessed to an admiration for Rosalind Russell in that she had not gone the horror and gore route that so many of her female contemporaries had. Then I saw this.

With her ever changing hair color like the horse in the Wizard Of Oz and grand presence borrowed somewhat from Mama Rose in Gypsy, Russell plays a domineering mother who has sheltered her son Robert Morse to the point of him being socially backward. They're rich as Midas and can indulge in a lot of activities that people would say they were candidates for HappyDale if they didn't have that kind of wealth. One of them is carrying around a coffin with the body of her late husband and Morse's father. I'm sure it's the best work some taxidermist ever did. She must have read what Oxford did with Jeremy Bentham.

Anyway a couple of predatory fortune hunters are after them at the latest tropical paradise they've lighted. Sea Captain Hugh Griffith is chasing Russell and bimbo Barbara Harris is after Morse. Therein lies the story.

I learned two things about this film. After it was completed Paramount held it up for two years and cast Jonathan Winters as her late husband who takes his first flight on his new wings to observe the family he left behind. Little squib insertions were put into the film with Winters offering Greek chorus commentary at intervals. That in itself tells you the film needed help.

Secondly in Russell's own autobiography she wasn't crazy about the end product feeling that she and the director were working at cross purposes. Personally I didn't think the film had much purpose to begin with.

Roz took the place Hermione Gingold who did this on stage and the imbecile son was played by a young Sam Waterston. All I can say is Jack McCoy came from one bad beginning.

Roz Russell's own fans will be terribly disappointed.

Rosalind Russell never gave a bad performance, and I don't know if it's just me, but I prefer her older, like she was in this movie! Not everyone can say that they got better with age, that they got more beautiful with age, but she did! Age just suited her unique level of sophistication and style.

And I know this movie is considered horrible, but it had me a fan from the opening credits onward! I just loved, absolutely loved the theme song! I'm still singing it off and on now, and I've been done watching the movie for a couple of hours!

I will admit that the title of the film put me off for a long time, because I couldn't help but imagine someone skinned, and hung in the closet that way. You know, the way some dogs or cats are skinned after they pass away, and then their owners get to keep the skin. That's what I thought of with this title. And the film is grotesque, but it's special brand of kooky charm that the late 1960s was so good at makes it not so bad after all.

This movie reminds me of a Carol Channing film called Skidoo, made in the same year I believe. So, anyone that likes the groovy kookiness of this film should really check that one out as well. And while I haven't seen it yet, it also brings to mind a Phyllis Diller movie called "did you hear the one about the traveling sales lady?" from 1968.

The people who gave this a low rating, I guess they just didn't like the title song, because if you like the opening credits and title song, you're going to enjoy the film overall, as it pretty much set the tone.

My only real complaints are how weird the young son looked in this movie, with his skin, seeming to be painted white a lot of times. And Jonathan Winters was included in the film in a very strange way, like a cartoon pop-up bubble every once in a while. But his mouth wouldn't be moving. What can I say, I guess it goes with the weird vibe of the film! But overall, this movie was very enjoyable!

This would make a great double feature with "Where angels go, trouble follows" from 1968, also starring the great Rosalind Russell!