Variety

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 had seen this film when first released in early 85. though the pacing is slow and deliberate i find myself hypnotically fastened to the visuals aided by a good john lurie score.

this is one of the few films i've seen where the long lingering visuals (fulton fish market scene,etc),in its unflattering documentation of a bygone nyc era, actually adds the sense of smell to picture. i could actually taste/smell times square while watching.

there has been enough written about the plot/theme in others comments. though i find it an ambiguous film in that the character of christine's awakening of alternative sexual desires seems to leave her more frustrated than fulfilled.

the pacing reminds me in a good way of wim wenders early b&w dramas.

could someone please inform me though if that British accented woman at the bar is an uncredited gina birch of The Raincoats??

i grew up during that period in manhattan, especially around the sleaze of times square. so i may be simply nostalgic in an odd sense when i watch the film.

The combination of Kathy Acker as writer and Bette Gordon as director should have signaled a potent brew, but sadly what we get here is a brilliant idea cut down savagely by the film's low-budget budget. Tracing the seedy, crime-ridden porn theater world of Times Square in the early 80s from a what was a post-feminist perspective should have pushed the boundaries of what could be explored in feminist cinema but here the effect is to disengage the viewer from the convoluted action. Every technical aspect from the sound to the acting feels shabby and weak and frankly underwhelming but there is an underground post-Factory (Warhol not WalMart) passion at work that just about saves this oddity. Acker's polemical script presents feminist intervention/investment in the patriarchal world of pornography with some gusto and ambiguity at times but eventually the direction dilutes itself in a haze of revisionist sexual politics, thanks to the inconsequential scripting and unfocused lensing.

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!