Smile

There's something very disturbing and creepy about the "wholesome" teen beauty pageant. It might be the "stage mothers" who are not just living through their daughters, but seem to actually be re-living the vainglorious days of their own pathetic lives before they became frumpy, boring housewives. It might be the way every male from the horny pre-teens to dirty old rotters leers at the teenage girls as they go through the "talent", "swimsuit", and "vim and vigor" portions of these ridiculous contests. Whatever it is, the subject is ripe for satire. This forgotten 70's movie is less famous than the more recent "Drop Dead Gorgeous", but it's really a lot more on-target as far as satire goes. Whereas the later film has its moments (Ellen Barkin's trailer trash mom with a beer can burnt onto her hand or the stupid contestant who has had a sexual encounter with Adam West), the satire in this movie is a lot more subtle and effective. There's the idiotic emcee who says things like: "Isn't she beautiful? Aren't they all beautiful? Isn't everybody beautiful?". There's the scary, Stepford-like pageant director (Barbara Feldon)who for the sake of "the girls" doesn't press charges after her drunken husband (quite understandably)tries to shoot her. Then there's the male community leaders led by "Big Bob" (Bruce Dern) who at one point dress in bedsheets and have an initiation ceremony in the park which ends up looking like an especially homoerotic Ku Klux Klan rally.

The adult actors are mostly just hilarious caricatures, but the contestants are more realistic and likable. The most famous faces are Melanie Griffith and Colleen Camp, but the main stars are Joan Prather (from TV's "Eight is Enough") and a young Annette O'Toole. The ending is kind of anti-climactic, but something about it kind of stays with you. It's not a great movie perhaps, but it was one made at a rare time when America could honestly look at itself in the mirror--and what is there is both funny and disturbing.

A wickedly humorous send-up of small town boosterism, in which the junior chamber of commerce talks into mechanical dogs for food, turns on artificial birds for the sounds of nature, and substitutes a relentless smile for genuine feeling. Where also: just thinking you're having fun is more important than the real thing, and upbeat cliché becomes a way of life. Suddenly, into this hothouse arrives a tacky version of that crown jewel of artificiality, the beauty pageant, an event sure to drive everything into warp speed, which it does, but with surprisingly low-key results. The film avoids outright cynicism by humanizing the teen-age contestants, who are, after all, also products of small town America. Nevertheless, the script makes the disconnect clear: ritualized behavior has benumbed genuine emotion. The boosters have lost their inner selves, as will the girls if they continue on the contestant path. Amidst a uniformly fine cast stands Nicholas Pryor, whose portrayal of a desperate drunk looks so authentic, it shakes up the entire movie. A holdout from the deadening groupthink, he simply can't cope with the surroundings. Yet it is his emotional depth, from hangdog expression to slumping carriage, by which the rest of the community is measured. There's an undercurrent of the rebellious 60's running through this film, and I suspect it sank quickly because popular tastes were turning away from ironical characters named "Freelander". Nonetheless, a revival of this neglected gem is long overdue, not only for its often surprisingly subtle humor, but for the continuing relevancy of the message. However, don't look for it at your nearest chamber of commerce meeting.

All the beauty contestants have to "Smile" in this 1975 film written by Jerry Belson and directed by Michael Ritchie. It's a take-off on pageants and American values in the '70s. It stars Barbara Feldon, Bruce Dern, Michael Kidd, and Nicholas Pryor, while featuring some familiar young faces as contestants: Melanie Griffith, Colleen Camp, and Annette O'Toole.

Feldon is the ever-chipper but icy "Young American Miss" who has no use for her drunken husband (Pryor) and devotes herself to the pageant; she's terrific, as is Bruce Dern as a used car salesman, the main judge of the pageant who has an enterprising son with a Polaroid camera. Best of all is Michael Kidd as the choreographer. Kidd started out as a ballet dancer, moved to Broadway, and finally Hollywood where he danced, acted, and choreographed, later adding directing to his list of talents. Here, he gives a wonderful performance as a choreographer whose cynicism and toughness hides a heart of gold.

There are too many vignettes among the contestants to describe - the talent competition that consists of packing a suitcase, the flaming baton; the rehearsals with the orchestra are hilarious, as is the contestant looking for her butter churn.

The film hits just the right note between satire/comedy and drama. Beauty contestants haven't changed much; they all want to help people, and being brought up without a father is a distinct advantage. Boys are still horny. And never has any of this been presented in a more of a light, amusing way than in "Smile."

As with all the great episodic ensemble films (If..., Fame, Nashville, M*A*S*H)it's the little touches that makes this film quite so deliriously wonderful e.g.: The wide-eyed girl's nervousness of the orchestra; the cop's recapture of Little Bob's two accomplices; Maria's expression as the winners of the pageant are being announced; "...and that girl had a wooden foot"; and so on.

All of the cast are uniformly excellent, not one of them, major or minor, misses a beat.

This is one film that invites repeated viewings, until it almost feels like an old friend. I think that we should start a campaign to get this film the recognition it deserves.

This wonderful comedy-drama has much the same tone as "Nashville." It's a satirical view of a place and time centering around a specific event, in this case a teenage beauty pageant. It has a couple of things "Nashville" doesn't have, however--a heart, and a great deal of affection for its flawed characters. Bruce Dern has never been sufficiently appreciated--often typed as a psycho--but he has never been better than he is here as a used-car salesman with a lot of inner torment. And Michael Kidd, the great choreographer, shows what an adept actor he can be in a supporting performance which in a perfect world would have won an Oscar, and in this imperfect one was not even nominated. Michael Ritchie, one of the most erratic of directors, here hits his career peak.