Vol à la tire

Haven't seen Sweet Revenge since the early 80s. I remember finding it very entertaining, and was really drawn into the two lead characters: The thief and the investigator. Perhaps the premise is thin, all the effort just for a car, but surely many people have obsessions with cars. I know people who seem to love their car more than their spouse.

Stockard Channing was amazing, as was Sam Waterston. I'd love to see it again.

Sadly this movie is not available on VHS/DVD nor on cable. Any interest in reviving it for a discount renter have probably gotten thwarted by the fact there are 6 other movies by this exact name listed on IMDb, so just knowing which Sweet Revenge one is talking about is tough. The 1984 movie of the same name plays on cable all the time, but never this 1977 title. Like other movies from the slightly pre-VCR-boom era that I'd like to see again, including 'A Man, a Woman, and a Bank' and 'The Manitou' (which was bad/silly but worth a rewatch), it may not pass this way again.

If you should actually come across it, it's worth checking out. (And then let me know where the heck you found it!)

Vurrla Kowsky (Stockard Channing) has an eye for a new Ferrari Dino. She's a car thief and gets pulled over. Her public defender Philip Le Clerq (Sam Waterston) assumes that she's a victim of circumstances and tries to reform her. In reality, she gave a false identity and constantly lies to him. She has many aliases and is an unrepentant thief. Philip follows her back to her rundown boarded up place. Only her car radio stealing best friend Edmund knows her real name. Sweet Revenge is her car's name. Philip tries to help her despite continuously being lied to.

This little-seen Stockard Channing indie is a nice showcase for her. The film works best when she's paired with Waterston. It really should be a film about the two of them. The film stagnates without them together even when she does some crazy stuff. Their back and forth injects a fun chemistry into the movie.

In this made-for-television flick, Stockard Channing plays a no-good, selfish, pathological liar with a rap sheet longer than her arm. Her current fixation is stealing cars, so that she can sell them and hopefully get enough money to actually buy a Ferrari. Beyond that, she has absolutely no life plan. She's not thinking of getting a legitimate job, an apartment or house, a quality boyfriend, or even a bath. What a great heroine to root for.

For some reason that never becomes clear, her young, trusting public defender—played by Sam Waterston, who else?—tells the judge to be lenient because she's a good kid and just needs a little guidance. He continually sticks up for her and tries to help her, even though she proves time and again she has neither the interest nor the tools to fully accept his help. She's incredibly unlikable, and it's very frustrating to watch her drag Sam down with her, especially for fans who know him on Law & Order. Unless you really love Stockard Channing—I don't; she's just too angry-looking all the time—you'll probably want to load up on your Jack McCoy fix the way nature intended, with a Law & Order marathon.

A young woman with a long rap sheet who steals cars for a living is befriended by a public defender who tries to steer her straight. But her goal is to steal and subsequently sell enough cars (sometimes the same car more than once) to buy a new Ferrari.

Just like everyone else, I had never heard of this film until it was shown on Turner Classic Movies. And I can understand why it faded away. There is little that stands out about it, and the two stars are not anywhere near A-list (with all due respect). So it makes sense that this would be buried.

But it is not a bad movie by any means, and a fun film. Since it was apparently made by MGM, I would suspect the rights to distribute it are fairly cheap right now (2017) and it might be the kind of title that a specialty Blu-ray label would pick up.

Stockard Channing is a young woman who decides to steal the same car again and again, so she can get her dream ride. Sam Waterston is her court-appointed lawyer -- of course -- who finds her low-rent free spirit irresistibly challenging.

This is the 1970s, and in the aftermath of the 1960s, the free spirit, bursting from the bonds of conventionality, is no longer seen as a personal choice, of how an individual kook's defiance of convention can make her happier and give those near to her a new and valid view of the world. We don't get Katherine Hepburn gushing about Cary Grant: "You've got no faith in Johnny, have you, Julia? His little dream may fall flat, you think. Well, so it may, what if it should? There'll be another. Oh, I've got all the faith in the world in Johnny. Whatever he does is all right with me. If he wants to dream for a while, he can dream for a while, and if he wants to come back and sell peanuts, oh, how I'll believe in those peanuts!"

The downside is no longer just the people making bad choices; we get to see the elderly couple talking about how much they love their son, and imagine how they feel when they find out what has actually. Choices have consequences for other people.