Variety

There is no doubt that feminism is what holds this movie together.

Bette Gordon made this movie in the height of the feminist debate over pornography. She doesn't endorse or condemn porn in this movie.

"Variety" depicts a woman who uses porn as a tool of self-exploration.

The movie is also a spoof of film noir. Gordon has fun with the genre by changing the sex of the main character to female. She lets her heroine play the amateur sleuth, which is traditionally a male character.

Unlike many genre movies in which women are terrorized, there is no victim in "Variety." Gordon contends that pornography doesn't necessarily make women victims. It is so refreshing that Gordon never puts her heroine at the site of male violence.

Gordon succeeds in keeping the viewer in suspense till the very end of the movie.

An intriguing tale on loneliness and obsession, "Variety" takes on human frailties and vulnerabilities and how circumstances can drive these beyond one's control. A young woman in New York City lands a job in a booth as a ticket seller in a pornographic theater. The sights and sounds of the environment pique her interest until a chance meeting with a regular draws her into a spiral of stalking voyeurism.

The backdrop of Reagan-era Manhattan adds an urban aesthetic to this dark tale. Lead actress Sandy McLeod's willowy features add an air of vintage innocence that fit perfectly to the character's role. And boy, did porn actresses look good back then. The natural beauties of yore far outdistance the current crop of tattoo-ridden plastic-injected hermaphrodites from hell that constitute the smut industry nowadays.

This is your classic slow burn flick and it's one that seems to go on forever. While it would have been better if half an hour was taken off to give it more punch the bare, quiet realism conveyed keeps it watchable as if one is the voyeur staring into this young woman's life.

One of those films that isn't anything outstanding but somehow leaves a subtle and undeniable mark, "Variety"'s exploration into the neon alleyways of the big city's throbbing pulse and memorable female protagonist stirs and moves a haunting aftermath that lingers long after the final credits roll in. Quite the see.

When adult theaters such as the one profiled in this film were prolific, feminist activists would lead tours of Times Square to bring attention to their cause.

The main character's regular and extensive swimming exercise is a good analogy for the pace of the film. Steady, slow, heavy.

One amusing note, when our heroine follows her mystery man who has just taken a cab, she jumps into another cab, the sax is on the soundtrack, no dialouge, but you can read her lips: "Follow that Cab!"

It's also ironic that she follows him to the Fulton Street Fish Market, which in real life became the focus of an extensive organized crime probe.

I've works at the flagship Krispy Kreme in Time Square, during the graveyard shift in COVID. That will probably be the closest my generation will ever get to a NY of this film. Gritty, but with absence of character! Grindhouse, B-movies, and exploitation films all have their starts to thank for in the theater district of Manhattan. Cinephiles must give flowers to the films that deserve their recognition in encompassing a world so few films would dare harp on, the subject matter of this film has a strict stance on either focusing on the male gaze or completely inverting it, and the film dose the latter. This film shows how 42st was structured chaos, a world which only legit street hounds could survive in. This world exists no longer, and for that reason, as historical guide this film is 10/10!

Christine (Sandy McCloud) is desperate for employment to the point where she accepts work selling tickets at a porno theatre off of Times Square. As expected some customers give off a creepy aura, though she accepts the invitation of one well heeled, mysterious gent's invite to a game at Yankee Stadium. The porno theatre environment meanwhile begins to have an effect on her, disturbing her boyfriend and spurring her to stalk the mystery man.

Variety is a lurid crock in search of an edge, but it's all location, location, location under neon on 48th street with a cast, crew and script ill prepared to mount a production. Most of the performers sleepwalk through their roles with McCloud's dense and dull lead insipidly gullible, her tailing skills amateurly obvious.

Bette Gordon's direction falters in nearly every department with anemic performances, disjointed storyline, overlong scenes and sloppy camerawork while talking dirty to you. Pounding her misandrist theme home she does offer up some provocative anecdotes from some minor players who look and sound like they've been around the block but with the leaden and lifeless McCloud in the lead Variety becomes an ordeal made to endure. A complete waste of time.