The Turning resulted in possibly the most exploitative advertising campaign in video retail history. Released in England during the peak of X-Files popularity, the video cover was a single shot of Gillian Anderson, her hands tentatively grasping her blouse. The implication was clear it screamed out "this is a film where Scully goes topless."
As it turns out, Anderson, billed fifth, appears for less than eight minutes of the 88-minute running time, sporting a ludicrous "southern" accent. Her exposed breasts, never seen in full anyway, occupy less than ten seconds of screen time. Maybe really sad X-File fans would be satisfied with around half a minute of her bare back.
You might think that this served people right, that it was scores of masturbatory X-File fans getting their just desserts. But I think exploiting people in such a transparent way is very cruel, not to say dishonest. Her minor role, and the fact that her sexuality plays no real part in proceedings, even causes the cover to be questionably within the trade descriptions act.
So what of the film itself? Well, the story centres on Clifford, a character whom I couldn't decide whether he had learning difficulties or was just played that way. I don't mean that remark in bad taste, by the way he really is portrayed like that. Questions over what kind of person he is are subtly built up by having him wearing a T-shirt with a swastika on it. Just in case you don't get the message, the incidental music helpfully contains a few "hails!" when he talks. That said, Michael Dolan does give a reasonable performance, much better than most of his co-stars, who were surely familiar with the words "TV" and "Movie" being in close proximity.
The dialogue often resorts to platitudes, though is generally inoffensively mediocre. One humorous moment is where Clifford describes "the three of us" (him, his mother and his father) and whether intentionally or not I do not know paraphrases Casablanca, with "don't add up to a stack o'cows**t." Humphrey would have been proud.
The adequate direction steals one or two riffs from Deliverance, though fails to build up any sense of tangible menace. The rather so-so domestic tale of a bunch of estranged rednecks; they could easily be guests on the Jerry Springer Show under the title "My Son Is A Nazi". Not bad, not great, this is a film that has "average" written all the way through it. Just one question why is it called The Turning???
