A Escrava da Alucinação

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.

My father in-law was channel surfing and accidentally found this movie playing on TV last night. I heard some of the lines and the weird 60's style music from another room and thought what the heck they were watching. It intrigued me enough to walk over to see what it was and my in-laws commented that it looked like a 'B' movie. At a glance, I thought the acting was really bad. But then I took a closer look at one of the actors and realized that it was Lana Turner! I couldn't believe my eyes. I noticed immediately how much older she looked. I love how every time the camera was on her face she looked mysteriously out of focus. Kind of like what they did with Sybil Shepard in Moonlighting. The lines were really awful and painful to hear but we all found ourselves compelled to keep watching it. Even my husband woke up from a snooze on the couch and started watching it. The daughter, Lisa sounded out of place with some French-like accent. The special psychedelic effects were really bad. I felt almost embarrassed for Ms Turner. I was also surprised there was nudity in this film.

She shouldn't have done this movie. She looked really out of place as if she was still playing one of her roles in her older movies like Imitation of Life. Don't get me wrong, I loved Imitation of Life. That was a really wonderful movie. She was really great in it and her acting was right for that time. But this movie was not right for her type of acting. It looked really out of place.

Also, the guy who played Johnny looked really familiar until I realized that it was 'Bernardo' from West Side Story! He seemed to play this sleazy character all too well.

I do have to say that it was entertaining. But if you're a real big fan of Lana Turner, save yourself the agony if you want to remember her as she was in her heyday. Cheers!

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.

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.

This was made during an age when old-time Hollywood stars were destroying themselves in film and it would have been better if many had just retired instead of making god-awful films like Joan Crawford, Jennifer Jones and Lana Turner did late in their careers. BUT, these bad films are enjoyable, as they are so bad you can't help but enjoy them for their camp value.

The film begins with Turner marrying a rich guy (Dan O'Herlihy). However she tries, Turner is not able to get the man's daughter (Karin Mossberg--who was an odd choice to play the daughter, as her command of English seemed rather poor) to accept her. However, Turner doesn't realize just how deep the step-daughter's resentment of her is. When the father dies in a boating accident and Turner is left in charge, Mossberg and her freaky boyfriend (George Chakiris) decide to drive the woman crazy--that way they can get their hands on all that money. So, combining LSD and recordings weird suggestions, they drive her towards the deep end. What happens next (other than lots of crazy psychedelics), you'll have to see for yourself. Just be prepared--it's embarrassing and amazingly silly.

While there is some shock value (with all the boobies scattered throughout the film), the writing is just awful. Characters behave in insanely inconsistent ways and the ending is just dumb (you've GOT to see the play--it's amazingly dopey). A bad film but a strangely enjoyable one.