Only now does it occur to me... TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME, JUNIE MOON (1970)

Only now does it occur to me... that TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME, JUNIE MOON is not what it appears to be. I'd been told that this, one of the final films Otto Preminger made before he died, was merely mediocre. They didn't tell me that it was batshit insane, a gloriously sincere queer melodrama starring Liza Minnelli that occasionally feels like John Waters made a Hammer horror flick. Am I goin' too fast for ya? 

So Liza plays Junie Moon, a withdrawn good girl making her way in the world, when a date goes horribly wrong––and I mean horribly wrong. First her date orders her to strip in a cemetery, which is sort of a red flag.

And it would all be very Hammer horror/Roger Corman faux-Poe-Gothic if it wasn't for the music––it's scored with the similar kind of POW! BANG! big-band music they use whenever Batman and Robin get in a fistfight in the 1960s series. Hey, I don't know, man.

Then things really take a turn at the junkyard, where he knocks Liza down and pours battery acid on her face...

 

I'll have you know that absolutely nothing motivates these events except for maybe a heightened, post-Tennessee Williams dedication to lurid melodrama.

With her face half-scarred, Liza spends time at a sanitarium [please, for sensitivity's sake, make no references to her collaboration with the Pet Shop Boys, "(I Think I'm) Losing My Mind"]

where she gains a wheelchair-using gay bestie (played by the legendary Broadway director of THE BOYS IN THE BAND and DEATHTRAP, Robert Moore).

He lends the film an amazing, manic energy and a propulsive heartbeat, like he stumbled out of an Armistead Maupin novel. Liza also befriends a troubled and seizure-prone young man and possible love interest (Ken Howard), and the trio make their way to a rented house, trying to prove they can make it on their own.

Note Liza claiming she does not not know what to do with sequins

Along the way, we meet creepy-peeper neighbors who feel like they escaped from a Russ Meyer/John Waters flick, Liza develops a friendship with a tree-dwelling owl,

there are bizarro nightmare sequences with black & white makeup and a disorienting squashed screen effect,

what I swear is a Charles Bronson mannequin,

Prove me wrong––I dare you!

and holy shit, Fred Williamson––the Hammer himself!––as a workin' man and homoerotic foil named "Beach Boy,"

Williamson fans will note that there is also a CABARET-inspired gang in the plagiaristic-Italo-trashterpiece 1990: BRONX WARRIORS, which co-stars Williamson as "The Ogre"

and finally, an aging Kay Thompson (nightclub singer, Page Six standby, creator of the ELOISE book series, and godmother and eventual real-life roommate of Liza) shows up, strutting around like she's a socialite from a hag horror film (WHATEVER HAPPENED TO AUNTIE MAME?)

and generally acting like she owns the place.

Are you going to tell her otherwise?!?

It culminates in a warm-hearted road trip and journey of self-discovery––

and dammit if this ridiculous camp-fest doesn't have a big ol' heart, surrounded by genuine compassion and confidence. This movie is completely insane, completely sincere, and I enjoyed it on every level.

Film Review: ARTHUR (1981, Steve Gordon)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 97 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Dudley Moore, Liza Minnelli, John Gielgud, Jill Eikenberry, Geraldine Fitzgerald. Music by Burt Bacharach and Christopher Cross.
Tag-line: "Not everyone who drinks is a poet, some of us drink because we're not."
Best one-liner: (Gielgud in Queens): "If you and your undershirt will walk two paces backwards, I could enter this dwelling."

"Don't you wish you were me? I know I do." ARTHUR is the tale of a childlike, middle-aged heir who happens to be the biggest, most vocal lush on the planet. Arthur is played by the diminutive (5'2'') Dudley Moore, and somehow he makes this exasperating character (who had the potential to be one of the most cloying, unbearable figures in film history) extremely likeable and even charming.

Shakespeare giant John Gielgud is Hobson, his ever-faithful butler and stand-in father figure. I could say that Gielgud is too good for the material, but this is the dude who slummed it in CALIGULA just for a paycheck, so he can't really say boo. Arthur’s being forced by his overbearing relatives to marry fellow blue-blood Jill Eikenberry, a classic doormat-type. But then Liza Minnelli rolls in at Liza 'o clock, clad in red and yellow clothes so bright that they cause Gielgud to arch his eyebrow (and that's before he learns that she's from Queens). "A little tart like that could save you a fortune in prostitutes," muses Gielgud, but I guess it's love, and Arthur's torn betwixt a loss of his inheritance and the possibility of actual, emotional bliss.

Barroom buddies.

The set-up is very stock, and the way it plays out isn't exactly shocking, but there's something so gosh-darned likable about Moore, and it’s intriguing to see adult life in New York from the vantage point of a child.

(A child that is completely wasted, that is.) There’s a lot of great stuff going on: the Oscar-winning theme by Christopher Cross, a gentle score by Burt Bacharach, the depiction of Queens as a foreign country ("It's horrible...horrible!"), Arthur placing a glass of scotch on his plate (as he drinks his dinner), and Arthur driving a racecar at a private track whilst swigging from a flask. And a certain amount of weight is lent to the movie by Gielgud and the fact that Moore loosely based the character on his own abusive alcoholic ex-partner, Peter Cook. Four gin-guzzlin’ stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: RENT-A-COP (1987, Jerry London)

Stars: 3 of 5.
Running Time: 96 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Burt Reynolds, Liza Minnelli, John P. Ryan (RUNAWAY TRAIN, CLASS OF 1999), James Remar (48 HRS., DEXTER, THE LONG RIDERS, THE COTTON CLUB), Bernie Casey (SHARKY'S MACHINE, IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS), Richard Masur (MR. BOOGEDY, LICENSE TO DRIVE), Dionne Warwick. Music by Jerry Goldsmith. Written by Dennis Shryack (HERO AND THE TERROR).
Tag-line: "Deadlier than Dirty Harry, faster than Cobra..." Why do we have to bring COBRA into this?
Best one-liner: "Merry Christmas!"

RENT-A-COP is so by-the-numbers, it's as if an Apple II-E were programmed to construct an '80s cop movie. It's chock full of maverick cops, snarky hookers, butterfingered rookies, stick-up-the-ass supervisors, merciless killers, evil dudes in mansions, and the buddy who you think is a buddy until you realize he's working for the bad guy. The cast is bursting at the seams with familiar faces: John P. Ryan (Dad in IT'S ALIVE),

John P. Ryan calls Burt Reynolds a loose cannon.

Richard Masur (Dad in LICENSE TO DRIVE and MR. BOOGEDY), Bernie Casey (U.N. Jefferson in REVENGE OF THE NERDS), and a very special appearance by Dionne Warwick...as a pimp! The music by Jerry Goldsmith is laughably epic, sweeping, and full of orchestral emotion: but this ain't GONE WITH THE WIND.

Burt prepares to deliver the one-liner, "Merry Christmas."

At several points, actors (including Burt) look straight into the camera (by accident?). Burt plays Burt; wearing macabre sweaters and butchering his banter (probably cause Dom's not around to slap). It's like a watered down SHARKY'S MACHINE.

Liza plays Liza, and clearly directed and costumed herself.

I guarantee you that the words "fabulous" and "honey" did not appear this much in the original script. Same goes for all the Liza freestyle dancing. At one point she is expected to seriously deliver the line "I jumped on top of him and I DID WHAT I DO!"

"I DID WHAT I DO!"

James Remar (Ajax in THE WARRIORS, Harry Morgan on DEXTER) is kinda doing an 'evil Swayze' routine. We see his stone cold killer doin' his thing for half the movie, and then WHAM––out of nowhere he's doing a half-naked super-sweaty solo dance number! His character name is then revealed to be 'Dancer.' Even for an 80's movie, this is insane.

If you're a Remar fan, you may have to watch this video twelve thousand times.

Now for the kicker: Liza hunts for the killer in a dance club. A guy passes by and––SCHWINK––gooses her. Liza yells into her wire, "Jesus, I just got goosed by some guy dressed as Little Red Riding Hood?!" We cut to Burt on the other end of the line, smiling in secret satisfaction.

And there ya have it- incontrovertible evidence that Burt loves goosing. (See also: my review of STROKER ACE.) Three stars, I guess.