Geometria di un delitto

Being a Lana Turner fan, and having seen most of her films, "The Big Cube" had always been amazingly allusive. It's not an easy movie to find, but once I got my hands on it, I was like a little kid at Christmas. I had read reviews on it and seen the disdain for this film over and over again, but I wasn't as horrified by it as most reviewers had me expecting to be. And, strangely enough, that was both a disappointment and a relief.

Lana plays a supposedly great stage actress (though you wouldn't know it based on the horrendous play the film opens with) who retires to marry a wealthy man whose witchy teenage daughter resents Lana's intrusion into their lives. This diva daughter, meanwhile, begins to date a sleazy drug pusher whom neither her father nor Lana approve of. The daughter (played oddly enough with an Eastern European accent of some sort) teams up with her boyfriend to drive poor Lana mad by lacing her medication with LSD.

"The Big Cube" is not a good movie by any stretch of the imagination. Many of the lines and scenes are laughably bad. Lana's LSD-induced hallucination scenes are beyond campy. And seeing Lana in the same film with bare breasts and naked rear-ends is a little disconcerting. But the film will suck you in and have you hooked - much like LSD itself. And in an oddly appealing way, there is a dash of awkwardness thrown in when you see how seriously Turner takes herself in this film. For a woman who was on the verge of 50, she still acted like a young vixen in her 20's.

This vehicle is one of pure exhibitionism. Truly only for Lana fans or those who like trippy '60s flicks. But I have honestly seen much worse. "Valley of the Dolls" is from the same era and in the same vein, but much more ridiculous and tedium inducing. "The Big Cube", strangely enough, resembles a drugged-out version of Turner's 1959 hit "Imitation of Life". Between Lana's successful stage actress character and the conflict she experiences with her step-daughter, plus the on screen reunion with Dan O'Herlihy (who plays her husband here), the similarities are striking enough for me to imagine that the director of this bizarre film must have been a fan of Lana's older melodramas. Having said that, "The Big Cube" is also about as far away from "Imitation of Life" or "Peyton Place" as one can get.

Bad movie lovers rejoice. Craptastic mess from that unfortunate time period when the studios were trying to connect with a youth audience that just wasn't there. Poor Lana, looking dreadfully gaunt, and her terrible two tone hair are stuck in this tripe with nowhere to hide. Her costarring with Dan O'Herlihy reminds the viewer that they were in Imitation of Life together and makes you wonder why you're not watching that instead! The rest of the acting is of the seriously wooden variety and the direction inept. Trash but if you are in the mood for something to make fun of or a Lana completist than give it a chance but one view will be more than enough.

Lana Turner was four years off the big screen when she did The Big Cube. Unlike some of her other contemporaries from the Hollywood Studio years she never went the horror route. But The Big Cube was enough of a psychedelic horror show as it is.

Lana plays acclaimed stage actress and second trophy wife of billionaire Dan O'Herlihy. His daughter Karin Mossberg is jealous of her stepmother especially after O'Herlihy is killed in a boating accident and his will gives Turner control of the fortune until Mossberg reaches the age of 25 and she can only marry someone Lana gives consent to.

That consent will not be given to medical student George Chakiris and he works Iago like on Mossberg. Chakiris supports himself selling LSD and he acts as travel agent to give Turner a trip to the psychedelic loony bin.

I can't believe Turner who was still drop dead gorgeous in 1969 couldn't find a better vehicle than this piece of trash. Take out the LSD and it's really just a watered down version of some of the soap operas Turner did in her latter years.

Richard Egan is here to and he has little to do but stand around and catch Turner on the rebound from the psych ward. He's a playwright and the truth is exposed with a gambit from Hamlet.

But the Bard would not have been happy seeing his idea wind up in this freak show.

Man, what a mess.

Yes, another example of old-line Hollywood attempting to deal with the pop culture youthquake of the late 1960's, and failing miserably. This thing lurches back and forth between a Douglas Sirk like melodrama and an LSD exploitation film. Jarring changes in pacing and tone abound. Even the accompanying background score shifts disturbingly from string-drenched light orchestral goop to fuzz-laden rock and roll freak-out.

Somehow I get the feeling that both Russ Meyer and Roger Ebert yanked a lot out of this film for their own delirious happening, "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls," released a couple years later. Fans of that craziness should be right at home here.

Lana Turner overacts appropriately here, and I am not going to blame any of the actors here (except for Mossberg -- this was her last film credit, probably appropriately), but I will take the writer, director, and the entire crew to task for their dubious contributions.

The fact that this film was actually produced in Mexico with a Mexican crew (though all American actors and shot in English) tells you a lot of the background. The set design has the over-the-top qualities of Mexican production design has in spades. The homes of the wealthy main characters are drenched in overdone luxurious furnishings. The freaky psychedelic club overflows with more colored lights and oil projection lamps than Bill Graham's storage room. The fashions worn are of the most extreme examples available at that time. These were clothes that might actually be worn by real people you might see on the street (maybe if you lived in Beverly Hills) but, just barely.

The Swedish accent of lead actress Karin Mossberg also throws another off-kilter element into the highly unbelievable proceedings. Explained away by the fact that she's been in boarding school in Switzerland for years, the fact that she looks nothing like the actor portraying her father is another example of the ongoing cognitive dissonance that makes this film a laugh riot. (I would also like to point out the ironic fact, that she did not recognize LSD laced into a sugar cube when exposed to it, due to the fact that she had been sheltered all these years in a boarding school in Switzerland. This conveniently ignores the historical fact that LSD was discovered by Dr. Albert Hoffman in a laboratory...wait for it....wait for it....in Switzerland).

To sum up, if you are ready for a ride into high camp, a film that screams to even the most submissive viewer, "Don't take me seriously," then you will be in a heaven of arranged artificiality. If you liked "The Trip," or "Skidoo" or "Beyond The Valley of the Dolls," and can appreciate all of them on the level of laughing at the fact that anyone could possibly take this kind of foolishness seriously, then you will have a riot of a time with this film.

So many of the great film actresses from the Golden Age were driven hard by their own ambitions and the maintenance of stardom: they seemed unable to gracefully leave the screen and their considerable achievements, and would rather be horrors than has-beens. Joan Crawford's last film was the dreadful Trog, Bette Davis appeared as the Wicked Stepmother, and even Mae West, at age 85, creeped her fans out in the tedious Sextette. I thought of Mae West especially, and her attempt to be sexy while watching Lana Turner negotiate her way in the exploitation film The Big Cube.

If you want to understand how mainstream America envisioned the 1960's counterculture and all that it implied--psychedelic colors, heavy drugs and trippy music--the first 30 minutes of this nutty camp classic have it right: a visit to a San Francisco nightclub is a complete hoot, full of coeds dropping sugar cubes (LSD) into their beer, a freak out in the center of the dance floor so bad the police arrive (rather quickly, as if they had been waiting offstage) to drag the poor victim to rehab--and even, however briefly, a topless dancer!

But to return to Lana Turner, trapped in a bad situation when her husband drowns unexpectedly and she's left with an avaricious stepdaughter whose malicious boyfriend (George Chakiris, who should have fired his agent for casting him in this turkey) decides the two of them should drug mama and drive her slowly mad; Lana hasn't a clue why she's having psychedelic hallucinations, and one hopes she wasn't secretly hoping this was her final chance for an Oscar as she screams and wails and carries on like Godzilla on a bender.

This wild immersion in off-the-wall exploitation is entertaining fun for the first half, and then gets bogged down in the melodrama; Lana's co-star, the young Karen Mossberg, competes with her mother for worst blonde wig, but her wooden acting style and bizarre accent makes her hard to understand, and she never made another film; watch instead for her redheaded BFF, played by Pamela Rodgers, whose perky personality enlivens the screen with a totally zany sex kitten. TV star Richard Egan maintains a stoic attitude throughout the film, a steady if stolid presence.

This is a fun romp "of a kind," and succeeds at that level. For Lana fans, it's probably fairly horrifying to see the persuasive actress of the excellent Bad and The Beautiful and The Postman Always Rings Twice stuck in such a turkey, but in spite of fairly fuzzed-out lenses and a slightly anorexic appearance, the lady does her best and soldiers on.