[go: up one dir, main page]

Showing posts with label Richard Burton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Richard Burton. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 16, 2023

Lana & Burton Romancing ‘The Rains of Ranchipur’ 1955

"The Rains of Ranchipur." Charismatic Richard Burton & femme fatale Lana Turner
 give each other the eye while her husband Michael Rennie seems oblivious...
 This scenario seems familiar! 

Burton would replay this scenario for real in 1962!


What happens when you mix soap suds with man-made or mother nature’s calamities? The result is Hollywood “disaster” movies, always a movie staple. The genre hit their peak in the 1970s when Irwin Allen set up beloved stars in the most basic scenarios, only to be knocked down like bowling pins.

The Rains of Ranchipur is a ‘50s example, with stars who suffer emotional and physical turmoil. A rich couple travel to India to buy a race horse. The wife is wealthy and does as she pleases, while the husband suffers stoically, and spends her money. At their host’s party, one look at an Indian doctor and the wife gets a fever! Theirs and some supporting characters’ plots plod along until the titled torrents wash some sense right into their brains. If this had been an Irwin Allen flick, a few of the supporting cast would have washed away. While not setting the silver screen ablaze, Lana Turner, Richard Burton, and Fred MacMurray do well enough in their roles in The Rains of Ranchipur. Lana gives an old-style movie star performance, Richard surprisingly underplays, and Fred offers up a veteran star going through his paces.

Michael Rennie's Lord looks on as Lady Lana Turner greets old pal Fred MacMurray.
 Eugenie Leontovich looks skeptical as the Maharani in "The Rains of Ranchipur."

While The Rains of Ranchipur has been compared unfavorably to the 1939 version, The Rains Came, the former is no great shakes, either. Both are escapist entertainment done adequately. The original has Myrna Loy, Tyrone Power, and George Brent, at the height of their freshness. And new star Power at least looked exotic as the Indian doctor. The ’39 version made nearly three times as much at the box office as the ’55 version; the latter was only a moderate hit.

Cool poster for a lukewarm movie, 1955's "The Rains of Ranchipur."

There have been quotes attributed to Richard Burton regarding Lana Turner's acting abilities. Well, Turner wasn't Davis or Stanwyck, but she knew how to give a movie star performance when faced with lesser material. So did Joan Crawford and later, Elizabeth Taylor—it must have been in the MGM Handbook! Turner's rich playgirl is pure dime store romance, but she plays the stereotype quite entertainingly. Lana Turner was 34 here. Though Lana’s prematurely past her youthful freshness, it's still nice to see her glamour before it became shellacked in Imitation of Life.

Mid-stardom, Lana Turner is presented ravishingly, 1955's "The Rains of Ranchipur."

Yet in all the promo pics, Lana Turner looks ghostly!

As for Burton, he admitted over the years that he was not the best physical actor and relied much on his great voice. Fair enough. Still, he looks like a soldier standing at attention; sitting, he slumps in a not very leading man-like posture. Of course, the world's most famous Welshman looks absurd in a turban and brown face as Dr. Safti. Yet, Richard is striking to look at in his handsome youth, with blue-green eyes even more piercing with the makeup. It's been noted that as brown-faced Burton has more scenes with golden Lana, his skin tones become lighter. Love is strange, as the song goes! Richard doesn't over-act, as he could later do, but he is very minimal, which might be the right way to play this role, when so unconvincingly cast as another nationality.

Richard Burton's brilliant Hindu doctor also has brilliant blue-green eyes!

Michael Rennie has the unenviable role as cuckold husband Albert to Turner’s adventuress wife.  Rennie’s stone face made him perfect as the visitor from outer space, but playing opposite one of the flashiest stars in MGM’s galaxy is a thankless task.

Fred MacMurray as Tom Ransome, a brilliant man who drinks too much in "The Rains of Ranchipur." Fred's expression reminds me of Benedict Cumberbatch here.

Fred MacMurray, as Lana's long-time friend Tom Ransome, is the rich drinking man. Fred's solid, but still on the stodgy side, and a bit on autopilot. His love interest is Joan Caulfield as Fern, who is supposed to be college age, while Fred was in his mid-40s. Joan was actually 33, a year younger than woman of the world Lana! Caulfield aims to go beyond the typical second lead ingĂ©nue role and is slightly overbearing. Here, Joan’s perky interactions with world-weary Fred are just a bit too precious.

Eugenie Leontovich has a field day as the willful Maharani, who spars with Lana
 Turner's playgirl over Richard Burton's brilliant doc, in "The Rains of Ranchipur."

Russian actress Eugenie Leontovich, who plays Burton's mother-figure as the Maharani, is another light-eyed Indian. And she has a field day overplaying the Indian grande dame, which is saying something, since the role was originally played by Maria Ouspenskaya. Movie fans may recall Leontovich as the wheelchair-bound woman in William Castle’s cult classic, Homicidal.

The characters of "The Rains of Ranchipur" work together during the titled disaster.

As for Lana, though her character has married Michael Rennie's for the title, she's the money bags. So that explains how Lana is a "Lady," but how the heck did a Lana end up playing a character named "Edwina?!"  I smiled every time she was addressed as "Lady Edwina."

Lana's Lady Edwina is shocked when Doc Burton's mind wasn't on HER
while tending to the survivors of "The Rains of Ranchipur."

Aside from Burton's disparaging quotes about Lana, Turner has protested perhaps a bit too much that she found Richard unappealing as a man and star. Joan Collins would make the same claims shortly after, with The Sea Wife. As neither woman was particularly discriminating when it came to men, I maintain a healthy skepticism toward their stances. It's amusing that Burton and Turner, two of Hollywood's biggest players, claimed to not get personal off the set. And it’s very amusing that Burton plays a character that has been chaste!

Turner's Lady Edwina redeems herself in a final reel from "The Rains of Ranchipur."

Fox's Travilla did not do Lana Turner’s wardrobe, and Lana brought her MGM style crew with her to Fox, including designer Helen Rose. Perhaps Travilla got his revenge on her later with the gaudy get ups of The Big Cube!

Jean Negulesco directs competently, if not with his usual sophisticated style. The 1950s was flooded with studio remakes of their golden oldies, and The Rains of Ranchipur was a by the numbers rehash. The location shooting was in Pakistan, but did any of the stars actually go there?

The chemistry between Lana & Richard doesn't set the Cinemascope screen on fire,
but they have their moments, in 1955's "The Rains of Ranchipur."

The Rains of Ranchipur is a mildly entertaining movie for some lazy time in your favorite chair, for movie stars and studio style.

After Lana Turner’s comeback in The Bad in the Beautiful, it was back to doing junk like The Rains of Ranchipur. Here’s one of Turner’s best, my take here:

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2018/01/the-bad-and-beautiful-1952.html

My fave scene: after surviving illness & floods, Lana's first order of business is
putting her makeup back on, in "The Rains of Ranchipur."

Wednesday, September 7, 2022

Richard Burton Double Shot: ‘Ice Palace’ & ‘Bramble Bush’

Richard Burton, 1960 B.C. -- Before Cleopatra!



After 1960 WB duds "Ice Palace" & "The Bramble Bush," Richard Burton starred
on Broadway in the hit, "Camelot." Then Fox came calling, with "Cleopatra."

 

I recently watched Richard Burton in two 1960 soaps: Ice Palace and The Bramble Bush. The latter was especially sudsy and stultifying, but with Burton stiff and stone-faced in both. These were his last movies before he went off to play King Arthur in Broadway’s Camelot, which gave the once-promising film actor a box office boost. But this was the stage and not the movies, where the big bucks were. That all changed when Burton’s contract was bought out to return to 20th Century Fox, and paid $250,000 to portray Marc Anthony to Elizabeth Taylor’s Cleopatra. Since WB had paid Richard $125,000 each for Ice Palace and The Bramble Bush, Burton would get a Cleo boost in just about every way!

In his first 8 years in film, Burton made mostly bombs.

Arriving in Hollywood in the early 1950s, Richard Burton was given the big build up by 20th Century Fox. First, he was cast as co-star to two-time Oscar winner Olivia de Havilland in My Cousin Rachel. Burton got a Supporting Actor Oscar nod for his role, but the film was not a commercial success. Then Richard received a Best Actor Oscar nom for the smash epic, The Robe. After that, it was a very mixed bag for Burton at Fox. For the few hits like The Desert Rats, there was Burton in a turban in The Rains of Ranchipur. Then there was blonde and bewigged Burton, as Alexander the Great. Richard was then adrift with Joan Collins’ nun in The Sea Wife. After Burton left Fox, he made a strong British art film, 1959’s Look Back in Anger.

"Ice Palace," a standard studio film at a time when audiences wanted something new. 

Though 1956’s Giant is regarded as a classic, some criticize the Texas epic as too long and soapy. Giant naysayers, take a gander at Alaskan counterpart Ice Palace. Both were adaptations of best-selling novels by Edna Ferber. The movie versions were made by Warner Brothers. The stories had two alpha male characters that clashed for decades and were in love with the same woman. Both mixed history and personal stories that often played like soap opera. 

Edna Ferber's last novel, "Ice Palace."

But there were significant differences that made ‘56’s Giant a classic and 1960’s Ice Palace a clinker. The greatest was that Giant was directed and produced by George Stevens. The filmmaker was at his peak, whose vision focused on Ferber's research and take on the Texas state of mind. This also symbolized the US and her intriguing characters were based on real people. While Stevens realized audiences needed romance and action, he put Texas’ issues and the characters’ lives in the forefront and the plotting was subtly secondary. Stevens also cast up and coming actors with real substance. All this makes for a strong film decades later.

Aging Robert Ryan, quirky Carolyn Jones, bored Richard Burton,
and plastic Martha Hyer are the stars of 1960's "Ice Palace."

With Ice Palace, penny-pinching Jack Warner was in charge, not an innovative director. So, Ice Palace got competent studio director Vincent Sherman, a cast of young WB actors who were TV lightweights, veteran actor Robert Ryan, and then-journeyman actor Richard Burton. No hot new stars, like Rock Hudson or James Dean. The female star Ryan and Burton pined for was Carolyn Jones, a quirky starlet given her biggest break here. While Jones was the best of the cast, these three actors didn't exude the youth and freshness of Rock, Jimmy, and Elizabeth Taylor. Despite some location filming, Ice Palace feels full of scenes that are glaringly obvious with back lot shooting, rear projection, fake snow, and emphasis on wall-to-wall soap opera plotting, which dominates over social issues.

Richard Burton as ruthless tycoon Jeb Kennedy in "Ice Palace."

Burton plays Jeb Kennedy, a variation of Jett Rink, the poor boy who becomes super rich, and a super SOB. Burton’s Jeb is in love with another man's girl; thwarted, he marries a rich girl to get a jump in life, and makes her miserable. As the movie's anti-hero, Burton just bellows, scowls, and is generally stone-faced.

"The Bramble Bush" was one of many "Peyton Place" imitations.

The Bramble Bush was obviously inspired by Peyton Place: a "sexy" soap set in New England, where everybody seems unhappy and “unfulfilled.” And the plot revolves around the latter issue being alleviated! As Guy Montford, Burton’s doctor returns to his home town in Massachusetts. Best friend Larry McFie (Tom Drake) is dying and wants Doc Burton to bump him off, with hopes that Guy will take over as husband to his wife, played by Barbara Rush. Meanwhile, nurse Fran (Angie Dickinson) is madly in love with Guy, but has to fend off Jack Carson’s lech lawyer Bert, who wants to marry her. And Burton’s doc has it in for the town drunk, who he blames for family problems. The film has an excellent cast, but all drown in soap suds and dumb dialogue. The attempts at daring and sexy are coy and hypocritical, hallmarks of the mid-century Hollywood. Daniel Petrie directs competently, but unexcitingly.

By 1960, Richard Burton was still handsome but at 35,
he was looking stocky and low-energy in an era of buff hunks
like same age Paul Newman, Rock Hudson, and Tony Curtis.

The cast does what they can with clichĂ©d material: Rush is no-nonsense and natural as always. Carson is good in likeable heel mode. James Dunn once again plays an alcoholic, as he did in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Angie Dickinson as the sexy but sincere nurse is sympathetic, though her character is called upon to literally grovel for Burton on her knees!  

Nurse Angie Dickinson throws herself at Doc Richard Burton in "Bramble Bush."

Then there's Burton, who performs as always, when faced with inferior material: murmuring lines, snapping them curtly, and bellowing through his big scenes. Why the doc stirs everyone up in this town is beyond me. The worst is when Guy confesses why he hates town drunk, Stew. As a boy, Guy catches his neglected mother in bed with Stew. Guy blurts the truth at the family dinner table, resulting in his father’s later suicide. Burton’s recitation of this secret isn’t exactly on par with his monologues in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? When faced with bad material, there are stars who make the best of it, and stars who just walk through it for the paycheck or contractual obligation. Burton was the latter.

Ironically, Burton's character can't tolerate James Dunn's messy town drunk.

Luckily, Burton’s best was yet to come—Becket, Night of the Iguana, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, The Taming of the Shrew, Anne of a Thousand Days, and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Richard truly excelled as a star character actor in this period. Later, there were more artistic duds that Burton walked through—The Sandpiper, The Comedians, Boom, Hammersmith is Out, and Divorce His/Divorce Hers. Stick with the former group and avoid the latter, including Ice Palace and The Bramble Bush.

Though Robert Ryan & Richard Burton's characters are supposed to be scrappy
 young men at the beginning of "Ice Palace," Ryan was 50 and Burton was 35.




Sunday, March 21, 2021

Reflections of a Life-Long Elizabeth Taylor Fan

Elizabeth Taylor: The face that launched a thousand headlines.

 

Elizabeth Taylor’s star shines on like a crazy diamond, 10 years after her death at 79, in all her facets. ET’s fierceness and fabulousness, contradictions and flaws, inspired both love and hate from the public, occasionally at the same time!

When I read the news that Elizabeth Taylor had passed away on March 23, 2011, I had been terribly sick with bronchitis for two weeks. I had to sleep upright on a sofa, or my coughing spells would worsen. Elizabeth would have proud of the way I hacked away, just like dying Sissy Goforth in Boom! I was living in a Portland, OR communal house and nearly all my roommates were straight. As one roomie put it, he thought of Liz Taylor as the movie star with that “crazy Grandma hair,” who was pals with Michael Jackson.

Elizabeth Taylor was the rare film star who looked just as beautiful off-camera.

Well, Elizabeth Taylor was much more than that. I'll say it right here: this is a tribute to Taylor, not a roast. I like to remember late, great family members, friends, and favorite stars at their best, not their worst. Over the next weeks, I pulled out some of ET's greatest hits on DVD to watch with my roomies, and she’s been on my mind since her Feb. 27th birthday. 

 

Elizabeth Taylor was game as a guest on "Here's Lucy" with Richard Burton.

Funny Lady We started with Here's Lucy, with the legendary "Lucy Meets the Burtons" episode. This was one of Lucy's highest rated shows, and I love this appearance because it shows off Elizabeth Taylor's flair for comedy. I thought it was a shame that ET didn't do more movie comedies in her heyday, perhaps with George Segal, Jack Lemmon, or Walter Matthau. Most Lucy fans remember this episode as the one where she gets Liz' million dollar diamond stuck on her digit. Not only does Taylor splendidly send up her image, Richard Burton even more so, in the bigger role. The scene where Lucy's milk-white arm appears from behind a curtain, pretending to be tanned Taylor’s, is still a hoot.

"Lucy Meets The Burtons" gave Ms. Ball one of her highest-rated shows.

Gutsy Gal We then watched Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, where my most alpha male roommate commented that he would do ET. Aside from that classy comment, the roomies watching agreed that Liz and Paul still made this movie sizzle, despite the censorship. A major point of admiration for me: Elizabeth did some of her best work under great duress, but this may have been her most challenging. Two weeks into filming, adored hubby Mike Todd was killed in a plane crash. Several weeks later, ET was back on the set. Imagine this happening today. Though only 26 at the time, Elizabeth Taylor had already led several lives worth of drama!

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" was a challenge for Elizabeth Taylor, on-screen & off.

Screen Diva My closest roommate and I then commandeered the house owner's big screen TV and watched the restored version of Cleopatra. He was a bit leery because of its length and reputation as a bomb. I hadn't watched it in ages and only on TV stations’ faded, commercial-laden viewings. While Cleo's not a classic, we were both surprised by how watchable and truly epic some of the scenes were—especially Cleopatra's entrance into Rome. We both marveled that, in the age of CGI, that a cast of thousands were watching the most famous woman in the world make this grand entrance upon a huge statue, a wow moment. We liked Cleopatra so much that we watched the making of disc, and were even more impressed that a decent film even came out of such chaotic circumstances. My then-roomie admitted that Elizabeth Taylor was at her peak of beauty. He now "got" why everyone made a fuss over that older star with crazy grandma hair!

Both Cleopatra and Elizabeth Taylor knew how to make an entrance!


Feisty Female I think the film role closest to the real Elizabeth Taylor was Leslie Benedict in Giant. Like Leslie, Elizabeth was womanly and wise, but also not afraid to speak her mind. Off-screen and on, Elizabeth was forward thinking and not concerned about what others thought. The moments when Elizabeth as Leslie stands up to Rock Hudson’s rancher husband ring so true. Particularly, the scene where Taylor scolds the ranchers over "men talk" reminded me of her Republican wife years, where she sparred with John Warner publicly or later, unafraid to challenge those who thought AIDS wasn't "their" problem. 

As Leslie in "Giant," Elizabeth Taylor knew how to give a hubby a piece of her mind!


Daring Diva I admired that ET never backed away from a challenge, whether it was personal or professional, and her greatest acting one was when, at 33, she played 52-year-old Martha in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? While there are still some naysayers, most agree she hit a home run. And 55 years later, she and Burton are still instantly associated with this groundbreaking work. Aside from her lack of vanity as a great beauty, I admire that Elizabeth wasn't afraid to show a side of her that wasn't particularly flattering. I was well enough to see Virginia Woolf at a Taylor tribute with a friend, then a bartender, who noted the Burtons were very believable as battling drunks! I was amused at younger audience members who gasped at the insults hurled throughout the movie. As for frequent criticism of her voice, I've listened to audio of her big scenes and there's a subtlety in her readings that some greater actresses didn't achieve playing Martha. With almost 25 years of film experience under her belt, ET knew how to play for the camera.

Elizabeth Taylor & Richard Burton let fly in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"

Movie Star Mensch Elizabeth Taylor's great generosity has always been a buffer to her tabloid image, but when I watched A Place in the Sun recently, I was struck by how tender and maternal she was with Montgomery Clift. This is even more notable, since he was almost 30, and she was just 17. In one of ET's greatest acts of personal generosity, over 17 years later, the studio making Reflections in a Golden Eye didn't want now-erratic Montgomery Clift as her co-star, citing him as uninsurable. Taylor, who had been considered uninsurable after the Cleopatra scandal, offered her million dollar salary as collateral for his insurance. Clift was stunned, but sadly died at age 46, just before filming started. I can't think of another Hollywood star that has made such a generous gesture.

Elizabeth Taylor & Monty Clift on the set of "Raintree County."
 

Baby Diva:  To see Elizabeth Taylor in her early roles, before her breakout role as National Velvet, is to be startled by her assurance and astoundingly mature beauty. This is especially true in Lassie, Come Home, when you see Taylor in color for the first time. A friend of mine once said it was like somebody took the adult ET's head and stuck it on a little girl's body. Not exactly poetic, but on-point. In Jane Eyre, as the title character's doomed orphanage friend, Elizabeth and Peggy Ann Garner are genuinely affecting. Filmed in Orson Welles favorite noir-ish black and white, Taylor's beauty and presence is eerie.

Elizabeth Taylor at 10, in "Lassie Come Home."

Mature Diva: ET never seemed like a girl, even when she was, which made it difficult to cast Taylor as a juvenile. When audiences were wowed by Elizabeth at 16 in A Date with Judy, she started playing romantic leads, often with men 10 or 20 years older than her. And ET never went the route of "playing young," like Joan or Lana. Often she was cast in mature roles, like A Place in the Sun or Giant, where she aged 25 years. She's probably the youngest major actress to play Maggie the Cat, a role most actresses don't touch till they're 40-ish. Elizabeth played Virginia Woolf’s Martha at 33. In Ash Wednesday, Taylor was 41 when she played the 60-ish wife of Henry Fonda, who undergoes full-on plastic surgery to win him back. Later, during her plump political wife era, ET spoofed her weight gain in The Mirror Crack'd, as an aging actress making a comeback. Her greatest act of dropping the vanity veil was personal, when she was the first major celebrity to go public as she entered the Betty Ford Clinic at age 51.

Elizabeth Taylor after her stint at Betty Ford. Here with Carol Burnett,
who co-starred with ET just before she sought treatment for her addictions.


Final Curtain I've been a lifelong fan of Elizabeth Taylor. But I've never cared about her diamonds or husbands (with the exceptions of Mike Todd and Richard Burton). I was struck by her beauty as a kid, when her big hits played on the afternoon movies. I was fascinated by the extreme reactions about her from grownups. Everybody talked about Liz like she was their next door neighbor.

I especially admired Taylor when she reinvented herself and attempted to change serious bad habits that plagued most of her adult life: substance abuse, weight issues, and dealing with ill health. I felt her personal life interested her more than her professional one, which made her unique among Hollywood divas. The work Taylor did for AIDS activism and keeping the cash flowing as a savvy business woman with her perfume line was a testament to ET knowing her brand.

I had mixed feelings about Elizabeth Taylor seen as an aging woman, instead of the legendary film goddess who was like She who walked through the flames, only to come back immortal once more. ET was frank about her personal mistakes, addictions, illnesses, and finally, growing old. How many actresses can you think of who celebrated each major birthday with a Life magazine cover? Who else but Elizabeth Taylor would pose with a shaved head after brain tumor surgery? 

Elizabeth Taylor's last performance was in a wheelchair, for a 2007 reading of
"Love Letters" with James Earl Jones.

Taylor’s last public appearances were in a wheelchair, which she long fought. Elizabeth’s voice, always soft (how did she smoke all those cigarettes and not sound like Lucy or Lauren Bacall?) was now a whisper. But she was there, usually for AIDS or her perfume. The Sondheim song "I'm Still Here" has been sung by many legends, but Taylor lived it.

When Elizabeth Taylor passed away, I feared there would be a slew of “tell all” books. Surprisingly, there was little Taylor tittle-tattle, a testament to the loyalty she received from family, friends, and associates. I worried that ET would be forgotten, since she didn't die young like Marilyn or Judy. Elizabeth Taylor has left her impact on film and in life, still a frame of reference for a larger than life star and great beauty. Finally, flaws and all, Elizabeth Taylor the woman should be remembered as a most genuine human being.

I've written over a dozen pieces on Elizabeth Taylor. Go to my blog's main page to see more on all about Liz!

ET in Dylan Thomas' "Under Milkwood." Death & near-death was a dramatic part
of Elizabeth Taylor's life.

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/


Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Boom! 1968

Elizabeth Taylor as the dignified, understated Flora "Sissy" Goforth!


"Boom! The shock of each moment of still being alive." So says Richard Burton’s Chris Flanders to Elizabeth Taylor’s Flora “Sissy” Goforth, explaining his repeated intonation “boom” to the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore of her fabulous estate.
I’m a huge fan of Elizabeth Taylor but there’s no denying that 1968’s Boom! was a commercial and critical bomb. By the film’s finale, all that most critics and cinemagoers felt was the shock of still being awake!
'Boom!' was the Burtons' big flop that signified they were over, suddenly that summer in '68.

When the film was dropped into theaters during the summer of '68, the blasting reviews and the empty theater seats confirmed that ‘The Burtons’ were no longer the box office sure thing. I won't fall into the revisionist trap that every famous past film flop is now a misunderstood movie masterpiece. But Boom! is not bottom of the barrel filmmaking, where it’s been relegated to since its release. Yes, this Tennessee Williams drama is wildly uneven. Yet, Boom! has some genuine merits, and also some myths that deserve to be dispelled. 

The kneejerk negative reaction to Boom! remains so strong that you may ask, what are its positive points? For starters, John Barry (of James Bond fame) composed a remarkable score that may be the best thing about this film. The Boom! soundtrack is wistful, haunting, romantic, menacing, melancholy, and most of all, gives this erratic film an emotional anchor. I own and love this soundtrack. A close second is the eye-popping set that depicts Mrs. Goforth’s luxurious white villa, backed by the stunning Sardinia scenery. The set design is by Richard MacDonald, which is beautifully and insinuatingly photographed by Douglas Slocombe. With these brilliant artists, director Joseph Losey brings the look and sound of this film together masterfully.
Music for lovers? Composer John Barry, of  James Bond fame,
delivers one of his best scores in 'Boom!'

I know this is second-rate Williams, but even second tier Tennessee is better than most. This was also a rare opportunity when Williams got to write the screenplay to his own work. There are some sharp lines and thoughtful musings on people, life, and mortality. Williams, who transferred his own feelings onto his female characters, had lost his longtime partner while writing this play, as The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore. This was exacerbated by the playwright’s fears that after a string of hits, his time may have passed, just like that milk train. Five years later, writing the piece as Boom!, Williams was acutely aware that he was no longer in vogue. A shame, since the premise of Milk Train/Boom! is initially intriguing: One of the world’s wealthiest women, who appears to be terminally ill, is visited by a mysterious stranger, a poet who may be her next lover or really just an escort to her last hurrah.
The Burtons and Noel Coward on location.

Elizabeth Taylor once said that "nobody ever set out to make a bad movie." Even that quote gets mocked, but I think ET was sincere. Though the Burtons collected their usual million dollar fee, plus another quarter million each in overtime, in his later published journals, Richard wrote at length about Boom! From his entries, it was obvious that the Burtons thought this picture was worth doing and took it seriously.
It was Elizabeth's idea to wear nearly all white, as dying Sissy, like death shrouds, throughout 'Boom!'

Most critics cite that the biggest problem with Boom! is that the Burtons were miscast—Elizabeth far too young, and Burton too old—for their roles as the rich bitch and the ambiguous poet. Taylor certainly undercuts Flora “Sissy” Goforth by looking robust and radiant, since she's only got two days to live. When I read the play, I put Sissy somewhere in her 60s, whereas ET was then only 36. Yet, I can see why Elizabeth was chosen, beyond her box office allure. Taylor was prone to precarious health, and nearly died six years earlier, at age 29. Like Sissy, ET sported a string of husbands and gems. Also, Taylor was already a legend, with a fearsome reputation. But instead of aging up, as she did as Martha two years before, she looks like Mrs. Burton at a jet set ball. Taylor's played comic bitches well, and serious bitches with empathy. But Sissy Goforth is one bitch who becomes a bore fast.
And the blame for that goes to Tennessee Williams. He inadvertently pinpointed the biggest problem with this piece, namely, society types like the “heroine,” Sissy Goforth: “These are very tiring women, but fascinating.”  Well, fascinating for a while, anyway. Sissy is totally self-absorbed and doesn't offer a bit of sympathy to anybody else, interested only in her empire. And Sissy is just as much of an unrelenting bitch in the play as in the movie, that by the finale of both, you’re ready to scream, “Die, already!”
Richard Burton as Chris Flanders. Poet? Angel of Death? Hustler? Hard to say!

Richard Burton is always described as too old for poet Chris Flanders, which is not quite true. In the play, Flanders is 35, “hardly a chicken,” as Sissy wryly notes, when she finds his passport after rifling through his belongings. Burton was 43 but not aging well—still, Chris wasn't a twink. Perhaps this perception started when boyish Tab Hunter played him on Broadway. The play’s notes describe Chris as looking like an embattled boxer. Does Burton fit the description, or was he merely punch drunk? Burton seems restrained, but compared to the howling tornado that is Taylor, who wouldn't? He has some sly moments and gives an intelligent reading, but somebody menacingly handsome, like Terence Stamp, would have been marvelous. Burton seems a bit weary at times, but the accusation of being drunk or hung over is just a cheap shot. For those who think Burton was on alcohol-induced autopilot, compare his performance in Boom! with Hammersmith is Out or Bluebeard five years later.
The other big problem with Boom! is that the story expires long before Mrs. Goforth. Once the Witch of Capri leaves and Sissy realizes the end is near, it's not exactly a race to the death... more like a caterwauling crawl to the crypt. It also doesn’t help that Williams had reduced himself from intoxicating rhetoric to intoxicated repetition, with too many lines like: "What's human or inhuman is not for human decision!"
Tennessee Williams and Elizabeth Taylor  on the set of 'Boom!' This was a career crossroads for both of them.

Williams was facing his unhappy fifties during the ‘60s, which he called his ‘stoned age.’ Famed stage actress Marion Seldes, who played Sissy’s secretary, Blackie, in the original Broadway version, said, “It's an imperfect play, but it's beautifully imperfect.'' Ah, Tennessee couldn’t have put it better himself!
The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore’s title didn’t have that late ‘60s film pizzazz. So the movie’s opening title became Boom. When the film was released, the posters added boundless excitement by calling it Boom! My suggestion: Suddenly, Sissy's Last Summer!
Gossip has had it that everyone involved was bombed on Boom! These tales are often repeated by film writers or Internet talking heads with no real proof or even a sense that they have actually seen the movie. The film’s history is not helped by John Waters, who has made a cottage industry with his fatuous comments on the film, such as Elizabeth was so drunk that she didn't realize that the Boom! set was not a real house. I realize there are people who truly want to believe this kind of nonsense. Come on—Elizabeth had been making movies for 25 years, I think she could tell a set from a home—no matter if Taylor was tipsy or not. I'm not saying that what went on the leisurely Boom! shoot was like bible school, but Taylor’s performance is too sharp to be called drunken bumbling. Gossips cite ET's stumble while telling Coward's Witch of Capri about a typhoon benefit as she performs some kabuki moves, saying tycoon instead, while stumbling slightly. The word switch was probably a fluffed line, but the stumble is straight out of the original play, a signal to the Witch of Capri that the rumors of Sissy’s ill health are true.
No, that's not Audrey Hepburn showing pal Elizabeth some exercise moves. ET's getting kabuki instruction, really!

Other critics have seized on Taylor's grand accent that occasionally slips into bellowing broad when barking orders. Again, this is right out of the play: Sissy is a swanky dame who likes to give the airs of a great lady. Mrs. Goforth came from poor white trash from Georgia when she met her first millionaire hubby, as a chorus girl. She has married and buried a string of tycoons, and is now a world-famous, wealthy widow. Sissy grandly recites her memoirs to Blackie, which sounds like a cross between Patrick Dennis’ Little Me and Joan Crawford’s A Portrait of Joan.
I'm hardly saying this is a great Taylor performance—while energetic, it's ultimately one-note. ET’s Boom! broad is too broad. Sissy Goforth is hell on wheels and could use some typical Taylor empathy. One quiet moment occurs when Sissy tells Blackie what she really needs is some summer lovin', and Elizabeth is amusing, droll, world weary, and a bit sad. 
My favorite scene and quote from 'Boom!' And I dig those shades, especially indoors!


Taylor biographer Alexander Walker wrote that director Losey had a London doctor write up a diagnosis for Sissy Goforth’s illness, so that Taylor could gradually depict her decline. Sissy’s malady was a form of leukemia, with symptoms of euphoria intermingled with depression, exacerbated by the shots and booze that she constantly intakes. Mrs. Goforth’s circumstances—"Urgentissimo... like everything else this summer!"—were not unlike those of Vivien Leigh, who long suffered from tuberculosis (and later leukemia complications), along with manic depression, and had recently died. Taylor, a huge admirer of Leigh, was said to have been inspired by her later unhappy years as Sissy.
"Husbands...lovers...everything...a memory!" Noel Coward, the world weary Witch of Capri, looks on.

Sissy to the Witch of Capri: "Has it ever occurred to you that life is all memory? Except for each present moment that goes by so quickly you can hardly catch it?" Director Losey suggested Taylor play the scene where she’s dictating memories of her many husbands for laughs, and Elizabeth snapped back, “I do not find such a life funny.” Taylor reconsidered, because Sissy reciting her list of hubbies is grandly campy. Despite Losey’s tips, it doesn't seem he was a strong director of star actors. Some humor—and humanity—might have lightened this role, because the character is just as churlish on the printed page as in Taylor’s performance.
Elizabeth Taylor, like Sissy Goforth, shared memories of her favorite late husbands. ET appeared on TV shortly after 'Boom!,' in a special marking the 10 year anniversary of Mike Todd's death in a plane crash. Taylor was subdued and slightly melancholy here. Toward the end of her life, ET's memories became nearly as dramatic as Mrs. Goforth's.

Elizabeth was then coming up on the ten year anniversary of third husband Mike Todd’s death in a plane crash, and he was very much on her mind during shooting Boom! And some of Williams’ lines echoed at least the tabloid version of Taylor’s life: “Well, well. I've escorted six husbands to the eternal threshold and come back alone without them. Now it's my turn. I've no choice but to do it, but I want to do it alone. I don't want to be escorted. I want to go forth alone. And you... you counted on touching my heart because you knew I was dying. Well, you miscalculated with this one. The milk train doesn't stop here anymore.”
Given that Taylor was plump pretty much after 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,' I think ET looks stylish here, a decade later.

There were a lot of knocks on Taylor's weight here, but frankly she doesn't look overly heavy, no more than she had in her last few movies, including the early scenes of Virginia Woolf. Her weight problem showed in her fabled face soon after, in Losey's Secret Ceremony. Aside from her crazy kabuki getup—again from the play—Taylor's clothes suit her full figure and are quite simple. Karl Lagerfeld was the lead designer for Tiziani of Rome, who John Waters laughingly “wondered” who or what the heck that was. Waters should have tried Google.
ET's motto: More is better!
Truth!













I found it amusing that the dying Sissy changed her costumes and hair in nearly every scene. This is certainly how Cher would ‘go forth’ into the good night! For those who think Taylor's look was over the top, think late '60s Priscilla Presley, Ann-Margret, Raquel Welch, Valley of the Dolls, or Monica Vitti in Losey’s previous camp fest, Modesty Blaise.

Elizabeth Taylor at this point reminds me of Bette Davis in Beyond the Forest. Both were in their late 30s, both were miscast, both working with cerebral directors in their baroque phase. Both are playing full blast, with nary a nuance, to overcompensate. Ironically, Taylor had recently played Martha, a role that parodies Davis in Forest. The difference was that while both were overweight, over-made up and wigged out, Taylor was supposed to be older and Davis younger. The other difference was that Taylor, despite her weight, still looked lovely, whereas Davis looked prematurely aged. Both roles set them firmly on the path of caricature forever after.
"I don't bray!" Whoops, wrong movie! 

The supporting cast is negligible. Noel Coward is just as one-note campy here (in reverse gender casting) as the Witch of Capri as he was in Bunny Lake is Missing. I kept thinking how wonderful Bette Davis would have been as the Witch of Capri. Hell, she would have been a great Sissy Goforth, and the right age! Joanna Shimkus is bland as long-suffering secretary Blackie and the most interesting thing about Michael Nunn as sadistic guard Rudy is that he’s short.
"We've got Virginia Woolf in color!" crowed one Universal executive at the time. Not quite! After the unlikely hits of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and The Taming of the Shrew, more than a few critics were waiting for them to fail. Boom! provided the perfect vehicle.
"The sea is full of medusas...and film critics!"

Richard Schickel fired the opening volley that the Burtons were over. Life magazine’s Schnickel claimed that their clout as superstars caused arrogance to set in: “They get to thinking, perhaps unconsciously, that they can dare us to reject anything they feel like shoveling out. The Burtons are particularly afflicted with this malaise… There is a slack, tired quality to most of their work that is, by now, a form of insult. They don’t act so much as deign to appear before us and there is neither dignity nor discipline in what they do. She is fat and will do nothing about her most glaring defect, an unpleasant voice which she cannot adequately control. He, conversely, acts with nothing but his voice, rolling out his lines with much elegance, but no feeling at all. Perhaps the Burtons are doing the very best they can, laden as they are by their celebrity.”
But the critics had a point. Here's the Burtons partying with
Claudia Cardindale. Note ET's wearing a Boom! costume.

I think Schickel’s criticism was actually more apt in regard to the last lap of their first marriage, during the Divorce His/Divorce Hers and Hammersmith is Out era. But Boom! certainly marked the beginning of the Burtons’ decline.
Judith Crist, who made her name as a critic blasting Cleopatra as “a monumental mouse,” continued to carp on the Burtons non-stop. About Boom!, Crist critiqued: “Taylor is 20 years too young and 30 acting eons away from the role.” The acerbic film critic also razzed Richard Burton, citing he looked more like “a bank clerk on a campy holiday, kimono and all, than a poet.”
As far as ET was concerned, Crist was wrong on both counts. Sissy is well into her 60s, which would make Taylor 30 years too young; however, Elizabeth had triumphed in two prior Tennessee Williams roles, plus ET had just played a 52-year-old alcoholic shrew in Virginia Woolf. Aside from age, Sissy Goforth was not outside Elizabeth Taylor's range. She is indeed too young and there's no attempt made to hide the fact. The real problem with casting ET was that she had a weak acting director in Joseph Losey. Taylor had subtlety and variety when working with Richard Brooks, Joseph Mankiewicz, and Mike Nichols in theatrical-originated roles. But here, Taylor turns up the screen diva stereo up full blast, with no filter.
Wilfred Sheed wrote a huge Esquire piece titled “The Burtons Must Go!” Though “LizandDick” gave them plenty of ammo, some critics were also self-serving, making a name by tearing down the Burtons.
A then fledgling Roger Ebert wrote at the time, perhaps the most accurately: “There are different kinds of bad movies. Some are simply wretchedly bad, like well, you know. Others are bad but fascinating and Boom! is one of these.”
One of the film’s many cuckoo moments includes just how many times Mrs. Goforth orders people off her patio. Even her pet gets banished in a key moment, with the much quoted line: “Monkey…off…balcony!”
Another running gag is that Sissy is so self-absorbed that just because she can't eat, never offers anybody food, and what is offered by others, she orders to be taken away. This could be taken as symbolic of Boom!, a film that promises a feast, but doesn’t deliver. Boom! is ultimately a failure but still fascinating to watch, whether as camp or as fans of the film’s participants.
The shock of that moment when they realized 'Boom!' was going to bomb?
ET looking very chic and casual, while visiting with Burton, who's in costume as Chris Flanders.