Boom!

Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, and Noel Coward in a Joseph Losey film from a screenplay by Tennessee Williams with music by John Barry and cinematography by Douglas Slocombe. These credits alone should promise an award-caliber prestige film, but, unfortunately, the production of "Boom" was flawed from the beginning, and arguably one of Elizabeth Taylor's finest late-career performances was buried when the film bombed. The foundation of a film is its screenplay, and, based on one of Williams's lesser known, lesser quality plays, "The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore," the film is slow, often tedious, difficult to fully comprehend, and hard to sit through. Taylor and Burton were fresh from career highs with "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" and "The Taming of the Shrew," and their decision to appear in such an uncommercial endeavor is mystifying. "Boom" was among the first of these missteps that led to the couple's demise at the box office.

Flora "Sissy" Goforth is a lonely woman of immense wealth, who reigns supreme over her servants and a nurse upon a rocky Italian island; evidently quite ill, Sissy is demanding and often cruel to those around her. Enter Chris Flanders, a some-time poet with an address book whose pages list the names of deceased women; also known as the "Angel of Death," Flanders washes up on the shores of Sissy's island. For some bitchy spice, Flora's flamboyant friend, the Witch of Capri, arrives and is carried on the shoulders of a muscular servant up to the villa. Taylor is much too beautiful, young, and vibrant to be a dying recluse, although she is excellent in a part that echoes her Oscar-winning Martha. Burton is always worth watching, and his magnificent voice gives some of Williams's lines the poetic justice they deserve. Coward is Coward and is amusing in his few scenes.

The visuals are often striking; the Sardinian scenery is magnificent; and a white Mediterranean villa, perched atop a cliff, and filled with striking art works, makes a suitable backdrop for the actors who are garbed in outlandish Japanese-inspired costumes. However, Barry's music is intrusive and inappropriate at times, and, unfortunately, Joseph Losey's direction is self-consciously arty, and he uses much symbolism, even beyond Williams's obvious Goforth, Angel of Death, and Witch of Capri monikers. Taylor is always dressed in white, while Burton is wrapped in a black samurai kimono and often carries a sword. Burton references the film's title several times, which is taken from the boom of the waves against the rocks below the villa. "Boom" is generally slow, pretentious, ponderous, talky, and difficult to recommend to any non-fans of Taylor, Burton, or Williams. However, for Taylor-Burton devotees, the film is essential viewing, and they will not be disappointed by Taylor's performance or Burton's reading of William's lines.

Where to begin in discussing the rococo lunacy of this ill-fated project? Would it be Tennessee Williams' overripe script ("My heart beats blood that is not my blood, but the blood of anonymous donors")? Elizabeth Taylor's screeching performance ("S*** on your mother!", she yells at a clumsy servant)? Richard Burton's near-catatonic recitation of the title, or his reading of Coleridge's "Xanadu" (which Taylor interrupts with a "HUH?")?

Director John Waters' favorite movie (he calls it "failed art" and, thus, "perfect") is a non-stop laugh riot, and since "Boom!" is not available on video, you owe it to yourself to catch it on screen on those rare opportunities when it is presented. (The LA County Museum of Art recently screened it as part of its celebration of the Noel Coward centenary -- despite the fact that Mr. Coward appears in it for about 10 minutes -- and it drew hearty laughs throughout its seemingly interminable running time.)

So loony, so overdone, so 1968, this one's a camp classic.

`Boom' is a blast! This is one of the most fun of the Burton - Taylor films. "Boom" is also a gassy misfire that draws one into the veiled world of aging homosexual desire disguised as a heterosexual struggle between an aging, dying woman and the unattainable youth in the angel of Death.

This is story wearing a beard. Taylor's role is really that of an aging rich gay man who is trying to hang on to youth and the beauties that great beauty attract. After all, her name is `Sissy'. Burton's role is that of the hustler who is all that is left for the old queen to attract. But as with so many Williams works it all must be encrypted and coded so that the America of the late 50's and early 60's could handle his true intentions, the soft underbelly of his plays. Burton is too old for the role that was written for a man in his twenties and Taylor is too young and too healthy looking to be the dying Sissy. But despite that, the story of a struggle of great wealth against the inevitable grows from loopy strangeness to a compelling and moving ending. Here Taylor gives one of her oddly finest post Virginia Woolf studies in a dramatic/comic performance. There is in fact so much subversive humor in her performance that she is at times hilarious. Her vocal range dances from the shrill to the silly to the grand dame and all to serve her imperious and ultimately terrified Sissy Goforth. In the last desperate half hour of the film she does some of her finest work. Burton is rather cool and distant at first but builds his Angelo De Morte into a truly fine character study. In particular, listen to his fine delivery of the speech about the old man in the sea.

Particular note should be made of the cinematography, which is gorgeous, and the stunning sun washed bone toned opulent glamour of the sets. I understand that the Burtons owned the house in Sardinia for a while after the film was completed. The spare and haunting score by John Barry is an added delight to his impressive repertoire. And for you jewelry fans there is plenty of Miss Taylor's own jewelry on hand. So get out your copy of `My Love Affair With Jewelry' my Elizabeth and thumb along as she parades her diamonds in the Mediterranean sun.

Campy? Yes! Great? Maybe we will know about that in another 40 years. Is it worth your time? Only if you like a challenge and are willing to let the Burtons take you into the world of Tennessee Williams camp classic.

Joseph Losey would have turned 100 on 14 January 2009 had he lived and it seems appropriate that I should commemorate that anniversary a day late and with this very film because: a) it deals with a much-married dying woman looking back on her life and b) it misses the mark of being a good movie. Actually, for most people, it does much more than the latter and is an unmitigated disaster, a serious blot on the careers of a handful of talented people: director Losey, playwright-screenwriter Tennessee Williams (who boldly claimed this was the best film ever to be made out of his own plays!) and lead actors Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. On the other hand, the ones who generally escaped the critical trashing with their dignity intact were cinematographer Douglas Slocombe (shooting in the lovely Mediterranean island of Sardinia), composer John Barry (who provides a terrific and playfully eclectic score) and supporting players Noel Coward (making a droll appearance as the Witch of Capri) and Joanna Shimkus (as Taylor's long-suffering secretary). For one thing, the Burtons were both miscast, with her being far too young – she was just 36 at the time – and him too old for their roles (Tallulah Bankhead and Tab Hunter, respectively, had originally played those parts in the equally catastrophic stage version)! The fact that BOOM is one of eccentric film-maker John Waters' all-time favorites is a clear sign that the movie's reputation (bad or cult, depending which side of the fence one happens to be on) rests squarely on its high camp quotient: Taylor's constantly shrill, foul-mouthed delivery (including the occasional line in massacred Italian) – which, again, can be downright annoying or mildly amusing – and her parading in an incredible Kabuki costume to the strains of live sitars; "Angel of Death" Burton's walking around (hair blowing in the wind) in a samurai warrior's attire and brandishing the proverbial sword on the ledge of Taylor's clifftop villa; diminutive bodyguard Michael Dunn unleashing his pack of wild dogs on intruder Burton, etc. In the long run, however, what really saves the film for me – apart from those assets already mentioned at the top – is Losey's mise-en-scene which, from the very first shot to the last, is remarkably cinematic and inventive – in spite of his allegedly hitting the bottle quite hard during production (which did not prevent either of the Burtons from working for him once more, albeit separately)!

How can a film be a 10 and a 1 at the same time? As serious art, Boom is a bomb. Yet, as a testimony, a very camp testimony, to the lives of Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, Noel Coward, and Tennessee Williams, it is literally hysterical. As the Age of Aquarius was dawning on America, what were these pioneers of love, lust, decadence, and existential meaning to do? What is there to say, to do, to perform, two years after Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? 1968. the play Hair is delighting Broadway. The hippies have overtaken the Beats. Where can the stars go? To the Old World, Europe, Italy, Capris... The movie reveals their state of mind: preoccupation with death, the emptiness of wealth, sex, and luxury. As we watch this undeniably amusing costume melodrama, we can't help wondering just what Taylor and Burton's "real" life there in Sardinia must have been like. Did they throw tantrums when their whims went unsatisfied, or was it the opposite? I'll have to leave the answer to the biographers. But this film makes it impossible not to imagine them all there in Italy, trying with desperation NOT to be what they were portraying. That is what makes the film intriguing.