Qui êtes-vous, Polly Maggoo ?

Absurdist comedy is a tricky thing to get right. This movie manages well in the opening scenes, which involve a bizarre fashion show and model Polly being propositioned by a string of losers on the street, and at its best it is reminiscent of the early films of Richard Lester. The director, however, has no interest in, or is incompetent at, story telling, and the film becomes a hodgepodge of miscellaneous nonsense. Sometimes it is still interesting, and it is always visually striking, but at times the movie becomes so random, with characters speaking in long sequences of non-sequitors, that it was painful. At best, this is an interesting curio, but as a movie it's a failure.

Lesser known French New Wave filmmaker (lesser known probably because he was actually an American directing movies in France) William Klein directs this crazy film about model Polly Maggoo (Dorothy McGowan). The film is narratively insane - it goes everywhere and anywhere on a whim without too much of a clear story. It's reminiscent of Godard's more fun films, or maybe even some of the stuff Richard Lester was doing at the time like Help! and The Knack. It satirizes both the fashion world and filmmaking (Maggoo is besieged by a filmmaking crew doing a doc on her). A lot of cool images here. Not for those who insist on a strong narrative, but I enjoyed it a lot.

Although certainly superior to the other two releases in the Eclipse 3 DVD set of William Klein films, 'Who Are You, Polly Maggoo?' still suffers from the same debilitating loss of steam and shapelessness which bog down the later 'Mr. Freedom' and the prescient (if turgid) 'The Model Couple'.

After a promising start with a Paris fashion show, where rake-thin models parade through a cave in Dadaesque conical aluminium outfits, we are introduced to the eponymous heroine who is being profiled for a TV show which shares the films title. Dorothy McGowan is the unconventionally pretty (and highly appealing) Polly, whose life story is that of a 1960's Cinderella; plucked from obscurity from a crowd of Beatles fans at Kennedy Airport, as she was in real life, and rocketed to become the next supermodel. We are also introduced to an ennui glazed Prince, who fantasizes about procuring Polly, while the director of the TV profile slowly comes to find himself ensnared by her bemused charm. Cross-cut with this basic story are pretty pointless secondary characters who amount to little in the grander scheme of the film. There are the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern like dolts who go off to try and fetch Polly for their Prince (their absurdist exploits become highly annoying before long) and an sadly underwritten Rasputin-like figure who seemingly works for the Prince's mother.

Although often labeled as a critique of the fashion industry (surely a very soft target for satire) there is much more going on in the heart of this film. Klein has plenty of scope to pursue the meaninglessness of celebrity and how all (even those who posses it themselves) can succumb to the fantasy ideal that it enticingly instills in us, along with notions of individual self and the ever present critique of American vs. European sensibility. However, too many scenes are fractured away from the main points (the minutiae of the Prince's daydreams get rather tedious) and the change in mediums, like the animated sequences, seem thrown in to try and grab the audiences interest from floundering rather than present any real structural intention. Fantasy sequences such as Polly's daydream about the TV directors family (reminiscent in tone to the 1965 Terry Southern scripted masterpiece 'The Loved One') show some gripping vision but, again and again, Klein drops the ball by succumbing to the same excesses which would later characterize a certain type of 1960's film-making (such as the all-star spoof 'Casino Royale' or the great Alexander Mackendrick's directorial swan song, 'Don't Make Waves' - both released 1967).

As a visionary stylist, Klein excels but as a theorist and social commentator he flounders hopelessly in circular arguments and observations. As with the director's other fictional films, 'Who Are You, Polly Maggoo?' gives plenty in the way of wacky antics and visually impressive set-pieces but delivers little in regards to a coherent, tightly structured film experience.

Klein might have been a photographer extraordinaire, but his movies are through distorted lens. To clarify, the distortion isn't always for worse. Picasso too could be called drawing distortions, and Klein's movies too are - the works of abstract art. In these abstract arts, it is difficult to really identify what is real, and what is the fantasy. It is left on the viewer to interpret it, through his/her own judgment. The premises of the movie is, The reality TV program, OK TV does a "Who Are You" series on various famous personalities, the real person behind the public appearance. In this segment, they have chosen their subject as the super-model, Polly Magoo. Though it is on surface on Fashion and Glamour industry, but it could be any other industry, which has a high degree of public exposure - movie actress, politician,.... The key person of the series, Grégoire (Jean Rochefort) tries to unravel the mystery of Polly (real life Super-model, Dorothy McGowan). He practically lives with her, shadowing her every moment, trying to understand the person, carrying out various psychological tests etc. Meanwhile there is a Prince of a foreign country, who had been obsessed with Polly, through her photographs, and as a result the Queen dispatches first spies to trace Polly, and the Prince follows, to make a Princess of her. In the sides, though in major roles in plot are two other characters, Miss Maxwell (Grayson Hall), as the Fashion Magazine editor (Publicist, if we think of it, in general, not limiting to the Fashion), and Isidore Ducasse (Jacques Seiler), the couturier (the manager/ adviser/ groomer/ secretary/ speech writer,...). The thick paint on her face, hides Polly's freckles and the fashion house had made an asset of some of her physical shortcomings (e.g. her rabbit like incisors or lack of bust). In this, the real person is lost. Till, the Grégoire tests brings out some of it (though she points out, he himself is living at no less masquerade than her). In the end, the Cinderall had to chose who was her real prince charming, Prince Igor (Sami Frey) or Grégoire (Jean Rochefort), and the end has me a bit confused about her choice, it could be either. Or was it that brain (to be a Princess) won. It seems to be so, considering the teenager as the passive observer in the crowd.

This not only seems a satire on Klein's boss, Diana Vreeland (as some reviewer had mentioned), but it seems to be very highly autobiographical. The two protagonists, Dorothy McGowan and Klein are still alive, so probably they could tell. This was the very last public appearance of any kind of screen, still or moving, by Dorothy, and she retired at the age of only 26 or so. She was born in Brooklyn (like Polly). If I take it as her biography, it looks to be surprisingly similar, was Klein : Grégoire or Isidore (the presenter) ? Was per chance Klein too enamoured with her, not only through Camera, or it was only professional obsession (Isidore). It could be like many Composers have with singers, when they write opera specifically for a particular one, or directors with actors (of either gender), without anything remotely amorous in their relationship). Was Prince Igor Didier Dorot, who took her away ? A movie need to be watched again, especially towards the end, though there are hidden meanings everywhere (including the dinner scene, where the people make fun with her name).

French satire of the fashion industry from director William Klein stars real-life Vogue model Dorothy McGowan as Polly Maggoo, a supermodel from Brooklyn now a sensation in France, being followed everywhere by a film-crew eager to find the real woman behind the glamour. Lots of targets (mostly dry little pokes at the pretensions inherent in the world of fashionistas), romantic fantasies, and behind the scenes indecision. Stylishly presented (if awfully choppy) in black-and-white, with some droll commentary, though its sense of humor is ultimately a matter of taste. *1/2 from ****