Enganando Papai

First time I saw this I could hardly believe the many, many visible boom mikes throughout the film. Loved the picture regardless, and now I've come to accept those boom mikes as characters as central to LORD LOVE A DUCK's frazzled beauty as Roddy McDowall & Tuesday Weld, its stars.

Most knowledgeable film fans hold 70s films in reverence for their embracing of a deeper, richer reality more inspired by novels than by prior Hollywood films. 60s cinema tends to suffer by comparison: it often seems like a clumsy standoff between the death-throes of the old studios and their formulas, and the insisting beating on the door of a new, artistic, more experimental aesthetic: DUCK is one of those, subverting the soundstage-bound Mickey & Judy cliches by emulating that shot-on-indoor-sets look, with the vital modification of peopling this familiar artifical environment with the hyperAmerican grotesques who routinely populate Geo Axelrod's universe. Thus, like a lot of the best 60s movies, DUCK is part-fish, part-fowl and suffused with an atmosphere of strangeness beyond its subject matter - yet, given how Real Life in that decade similarly swayed on unsteady footing in two seperate realities, it works beautifully. And it definitely doesn't hurt that Tuesday Weld is a goddess of apple-cheeked carnality and conspicuous consumption. She may not be Everywoman exactly, but she IS Everywoman who ever dreamed of marrying Elvis, and that's good enough - like the King, you can't help falling in love with her. As has been noted, the 'cashmere sweater' scene is among the most erotic scenes ever caught on film - unnervingly so, given she's playing the scene with, and for, her father.

The movie is chockfull of scenes that similarly push black humor and social satire past the threshold of good taste or story logic; you're either going to go with it, or reject it altogether. I recommend the former: like a lot of underrated and outright ignored 60s movies that don't comfortably fit into any standard category, LORD LOVE A DUCK rewards the viewer who's willing to suspend disbelief for an hour-and-a-half with a totally absorbing and unique unreality all its own. It's a buzz you can only get from an American film made between JFK and Tricky Dick, and it's a hoot besides.

This film is a brilliant black comedy on par with Dr. Strangelove and that's not being hyperbolic. It's incredible that this film is unknown, it ought to at least be a cult favorite. By turns strange, hilarious, bizarre and even moving, if you haven't seen this you should. It is unlike any movie I've ever seen. I first saw it when I was a teenager when it came on an afternoon movie showing. (This was before the afternoon dial was filled up with Jerry Springer and his ilk.) I'm sure at least twenty minutes to a half hour were cut out of it to make room for commercials but I knew instantly this was something special. Something different. Something that touched a nerve where other movies had completely passed me by. And as if that weren't enough, the scene with Tuesday Weld going shopping for sweaters is my choice for the single most erotic scene in the history of movies. Get it. Watch it. Consider yourself a cut above the rest because you are in for something special.

Sex suffused satire on something or other that may have been cutting edge in '66, but is no longer. Sure, I get the shaking beach butts of Gidget, the drive-in religiosity of SoCal car culture, or Mom's Playboy bunny cum' prostitute. Some movie parts of course are funnier than others. Trouble is, whether funny or not, they're poorly blended, unlike the better satires of the day—The Loved One (1965), Dr. Strangelove (1964). Unfortunately, the vignettes here sprawl without adding up.

What the film does have in spades is Tuesday Weld. If there was ever a better sex kitten with bite, I haven't seen her. She injects real spunk into the often lame proceedings. Plus, who would have thought that Peter Gunn's dignified torch singer, Lola Albright, could be so funny. Then too, what an inspiration getting Ruth Gordon to do her waspish bit, as a mother, no less. On the other hand, Mc Dowell tries hard, but he's caught up in a role that borders on the incoherent. Could be that his 35-year old teenager is supposed to make a profound statement, but if so, It's beyond me

As I recall, writer Axelrod's film got a lot of buzz at the time. After all, the mid-60's were a time of growing social ferment. Thus, the long-time lid on movies was at last coming off, and what these satirical films show is that black humor was definitely in the air. Trouble is, unlike Strangelove or Loved One, this film doesn't get beyond that time period. There's no unifying theme that could compensate for the meandering lamer parts. As a result, it's more like a regional (SoCal) artifact than anything lasting-- except, of course, for us fans of Tuesday, in which case it's a permanent fan fest.

The darkest of black comedies, this odd curio is likely to delight some viewers while leaving others completely cold. McDowall is an odd duck of a high school student (the fact that the actor was 37 doesn't seem to matter in the film's lopsided world!) who fixates on Weld, a pretty fellow student who is used to being popular, but worries about her future at the all new Consolidated High. Soon, McDowall is somehow making every wish of Weld's come true from acquiring a baker's dozen angora sweaters to getting married and beyond! His omnipotent presence is welcome at first, but after a while becomes problematic. The bizarre, but ingratiating film creates a world of its own where fathers melt like butter before their nubile daughters, Principals break pencils in their mouths at the sight of pretty coeds and disapproving mothers-in-law are dealt with through the end of a booze bottle. Actually, these points are some of the most realistic in the film! Try an evangelist who delivers his message through the speakers of a drive-in movie or a house with a living room so cavernous that there's a distinct echo-effect during conversation! Quirky touches abound throughout, some enjoyable (the curvy teens dancing ala "Beach Party", the surreal luncheon with Weld's dad), some not (those annoying glimpses of boom mikes, intended or not.) McDowall (covered in makeup!) gives a strange, but intriguing performance. Weld is infectiously lovely and engrossing. Her hair alone, is deliriously sexy. Albright is wonderful and alternately hilarious and touching as Weld's cocktail waitress mother. Gordon, good or bad, is the Gordon that audiences have come to expect. Korman (in a role that screams for the talents of Paul Lynde) does a decent job as an excited Principal. West is adequate as the hapless guy who falls for Weld and pays the price. The title tune is catchy, though a tad overused. This isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea, but it's a refreshingly different spin on the teen movies typically seen in the 1960's and a knowing glimpse into the old adage "Be careful what you wish for".

The only director I've heard give credit to this great '60's film is John Landis but this strange-funny-dark-satirical-dramatic spoof was ahead of its time -like The Loved One or Dr. Strangelove- and had to have been an influence on many others. LLAD is an adult 'teen' movie that effectively slashes what was popular fodder for teen movies -the Beach Party series, bad low-budget horror films, bad low-budget sex dramas, bad low-budget high-school comedies, etc.

Tuesday Weld as Barbara Ann gives her best performance and her scenes with Lola Albright (amazing as her bunny-suited cocktail waitress mother) make them one of the most unusual mother/daughter pairings of all time. Max Showalter -so great as the singing priest with the old housekeeper in Blake Edwards's 10- has a very funny/creepy scene as Tuesday's dad, Ruth Gordon shows off her marvelous oh-what-the-hell-I'll-do-it persona and who knew Roddy McDowell was that sexy? LLAD is more than just a buried '60's curio: it's an overlooked classic that paved the way for most underground filmmakers looking to break the ice.