Joanna

It is silly the way we talk about movies. They are not meant for the ages but for slices of time. Once in a great great while one captures something eternal...8 1/2, Third Man, etcetera, but films are social chewing gum. Here is a fine example of an English director of the 1960s doing some turns that were fresh seeming and of the time...playing to the camera in the post dramatic sequence...don't tell me that wasn't and still would be a kick. And Sutherland's lisping soliloquy in the desert, my first awareness of the Canadian actor. A memorable film, one with some fans, many deprecators. But that's what makes horse races. Does sit hold up to critical analysis? Probably not, certainly not in the context of a lot that has followed. But lovely and fresh and exciting at the time, just like that first date with the sweet fresh girl who is now the woman with the scar from the auto accident. We change, the cinema changes. Films are not for the ages, after all, but acts of commerce sometimes tinged with art and freighted with our associations.

Director Michael Sarne would have the filmgoing public believe that the studios, the actors (in MYRA BRECKINRIDGE in particular), and 'the system' torpedoed his career. But, when one sees his single picture of note, JOANNA, on the big screen in a rare public showing - One discovers that the film world did not lose much. Composer Rod McKuen attended this weekend's American Cinemateque screening and revealed that the title character was a thinly autobiographical substitute for the director himself (Joanna's surname is 'Sarne' after all).

On paper, it would seem to make an exciting story - Young and handsome teen comes to London; Dresses in chic fashions; Hangs out with the 'in' crowd; Has sex with every other person one meets; Parties every night; Travels to exotic lands etc. How odd then that so much of the film wanders around aimlessly from venue to venue, from person to person, from incident to incident with so little meaning or consequence. It's rare that someone would find his own life so aimless. That aimlessness is certainly a part of what Sarne was after, but almost certainly not to the degree portrayed here.

To be fair, there are flashes of genuine artistic talent (and some can be mined from MYRA BRECKINRIDGE as well). The opening and closing title sequences are terrific, playful and inspired. Color, sound and editing are experimentmented with in interesting ways. A long sojourn to Morocco is both colorful and meaningful. The middle of the picture is indeed dominated by Donald Sutherland as a rich dude who takes Joanna and some friends to Africa. Affecting a bizarre stuttering accent, one can't help but be entertained, even if one suspects that much of the reaction of modern audiences is the result of familiarity with Sutherland more than the skill of the performance (indeed McKuen insisted that Sutherland's accent came and went so frequently that much of his performance had to be edited around and drowned in his music!).

Certainly an interesting document of its time (with the 'shocking' inclusion of not one but two interracial romances, free sex, and the intrusion of unnecessary violence into young people's lives - a nod to Vietnam?), JOANNA is a fascinating failure.

I remember this film as one which helped to define my life in college in the late 60's. I must have seen it along with my friends 10 times. We had the songs memorized and would sing them everywhere. I can't really understand the negative comments about this film. I would really like to find a copy out there somewhere so I could see it again. Does anyone have a copy?

I knew there was something special about this movie after my law school roommate asked me out of the blue how many times I'd seen Joanna. Turned out he had another friend who spent every weekend looking for this movie in the theaters (we're talking pre-video tape days here folks). I remember being carried away by the romance of this movie, feeling totally part of the London scene it portrayed, and I liked Donald Sutherland (whom I'd never seen act before) quite a lot. I guess Genevieve Waite never made it big as a film actress, but that picture of her clothed only in a necktie that ran in the New York Times ad for this film, with the trailer "Cult Film of the Decade," sure made an impression on me in my early 20's. Highly recommended.

This film could almost be viewed as the "let's-get-real" answer to "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner", a film that probably still could not get made in the U.S. As a snapshot of "swinging London" in the sixties, "Joanna" has it all. But Donald Sutherland absolutely steals this movie as Lord Peter Sanderson; his strange, wonderful, secular soliloquy on a Moroccan beach at sunset still provokes both goose pimples and tears. South African actress Genevieve Waite, who plays the wide-eyed heroine, was declared persona non grata in her native country after making this film, solely because of her love scenes with Calvin Lockhart (she later emigrated to the U.S. and married John Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas). All in all, a strange, wonderful, campy, mystic trip to the sixties.