marshall crist

The demented genius behind A VISIT FROM THE INCUBUS strikes again. Seriously, though, what is VIVA? Caught this about seven months ago and am still trying to take it all in. I loved this film because I never knew what was going to happen next, despite it following the model of '60's/'70's sexploitation films pretty closely. The first few minutes are simply exhilarating. A young housewife leafs through a skin mag in her bathtub, gets herself ready for the outside world, and blasts off in some bad-ass muscle car, just as the wonderful piece of vintage loungecore music on the soundtrack reaches a crescendo. (At least that's how I remember it.) Sublime; I'm at a loss to think of a better opening scene. (TOUCH OF EVIL, studio cut, perhaps? It's too close to call.) Then we settle in for the long haul. The housewife is hanging out with her friends, a married couple. Things get inappropriate. How far will it go? Exactly what kind of a movie is this? That's really the question that VIVA dares the viewer to answer. I'm still not sure. Satire or pornography? Happily, the answer is yes.

The film is two hours. That would be hard to justify if it were just a slavish imitation of vintage softcore porn. Or just a spoof of same. Instead, it's almost a suspense film. How long has it been since an American film had me wondering who among the cast was going to disrobe? Who was going to disrobe NEXT? Who will have sex next? Will it even be consensual?! All those people constantly cruising each other. Predatory. With the color-soaked visual panache of Radley Metzger in Eastmancolor, but with a storyline from a Joe Sarno film where everyone thinks and talks about sex all the time, has weird, anonymous, masked sex all the time, and never enjoys it. Almost exactly like the adult world seemed to me in 1972. Plus deadly serious feminist self-reflexivity for the unwashed masses and nude dancers with their wieners bobbing hilariously for intellectuals like myself, courtesy of a nudist camp scene that is exactly like Blake Edwards WOULD have done it in A SHOT IN THE DARK, if Hollywood censorship had already relaxed, and he was on angel dust. And all the while, the deliciously arch Jared Sanford does his best to act dozens of naked people off the screen. Two hours was barely enough. Bring on the 70mm IMAX release, the three-disc DVD special edition with the signed and numbered lithographs, and the "Vote for Viva" t-shirts in every trendy mall novelty store.

I seem to recall renting this film from Music+ about 17 years ago. I suspect I began fast-forwarding at about the ten-minute mark. A few weeks ago I caught a theatrical screening where I was forced to give it my full attention. I remembered little of it from my previous viewing. It is a strange film, full of odd, seemingly miscalculated moments. I really enjoyed it.

Surely the film's title, in the grand exploitation tradition, was tacked on to try to sell a product on the basis of something it doesn't really deliver. There is, technically, a "jailbait babysitter" in the film, but anyone expecting some underage thrills should look elsewhere. There's a bit of nudity to keep the audience from throwing things at the screen, but the story is actually an earnest drama with very little sex. It all plays out rather flatly, as our heroine gets in some trouble and runs away from home, and begins cohabitating with an absurdly benevolent prostitute. What keeps it watchable is not so much interest in the characters as the feeling of having absolutely no idea where, if indeed anywhere, the film is going. Amazing moments like the protagonist stepping in a huge pile of dog excrement, and her later tirade about same, make for unique viewing.

This ambitious anthology strives to capture a variety of tones and settings. The first segment, in French, captures the ennui of the ruling class. The second is like an elementary school play written by a lunatic; it's about a queen bee and her servants' attempts to find the perfect new digs. The third starts out as a swinging '60's go-go party with attempted gang rape and mutates into a fairy tale with a surprisingly non-traditional ending. If you are not endeared (or are even turned off) by this collection's rough edges, you may at least be grateful for it's playful humor. Anna Biller's kaleidoscopic knowledge of Hollywood genres and clichés is put to use (as it has been with increasing confidence and precision since) to create mind-jarring and whimsically enjoyable juxtapositions.