EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT SEX BUT WERE AFRAID TO ASK

EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT SEX BUT WERE AFRAID TO ASK (1972). Director: Woody Allen. 

Woody Allen took some questions from the book of the same name and filmed several segments supposedly relating to these questions. "Do aphrodisiacs work?" is a very funny medieval sketch where Allen winds up with his hand locked in the chastity belt of his horny married queen (an excellent Lynn Redgrave). "What is Sodomy?" actually looks at bestiality as Gene Wilder plays a doctor who falls in love with a sheep. It's a bit yucky, like anything pertaining to the subject, but it has its moments. 

"Why do some women have trouble reaching orgasm?" is a spoof of Italian movies with Allen discovering that his wife (Louise Lasser) only gets turned on in public places. "Are transvestites homosexual?" presents Lou Jacobi (who's terrific) as a husband who gets caught wearing the clothing of his hostess at a dinner party. "What are sex perverts?" first has a homoerotic hair tonic ad, and then presents an episode of the TV show What's My Perversion? an erotic take on What's My Line? "Are Sex Research Findings Accurate?" has John Carradine letting loose a giant breast upon the world in a spoof of monster movies. In "What happens during ejaculation?" Woody plays a nervous sperm who doesn't really like the idea of being thrust out into the big wide womb. This is probably the most inventive segment. Everything You Always Wanted to Know is certainly not for all tastes but it has its share of laughs and holds the attention. You'll probably learn no more about sex than you did from the book. 

Verdict: Watch out for giant boobs! ***.

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? (1991)

Twisted Sisters: Vanessa and Lynn Redgrave

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? (1990 telefilm). Director: David Greene.

"You always were a personality actress. Same performance, different outfit." -- Jane to Blanche.

Former child star Baby Jane Hudson (Lynn Redgrave) lives in a Hollywood mansion where she takes care of her crippled sister, former movie star Blanche Hudson (Vanessa Redgrave). The two sisters -- played by two real-life sisters -- have always had a problematic relationship, but things get worse when Jane discovers that her sister plans to sell the mansion and put her in an institution. Jane begins a campaign of harassment against her sister even as she plans her comeback with video shop owner and part-time drag queen, Billy (John Glover). Meanwhile Blanche does her best to escape her tormentor before the worst can happen. This TV remake of the classic What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? teaming two famous real-life sisters, must have seemed an irresistible notion, but however formidable the talents of Lynn and Vanessa they are "pygmies" compared to the even more formidable Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. That being said, Lynn [Georgy Girl] and Vanessa, with very different acting styles from the two Hollywood movie stars, give good, perhaps more naturalistic, performances. The telefilm has other pleasures, including Bruce A. Young as Blanche's handsome physical therapist (also an aspiring actor) and John Glover's wonderful portrayal of Billy, who tries his damnedest to get Baby Jane back into show business -- which culminates in a "showcase" in a bar which is one of the most memorable scenes in the picture. An in-joke has Blanche/Vanessa watching one of her older movies on television and saying "So many things that Tony could have improved upon" -- Vanessa was married to film director Tony Richardson for five years; she later married her Camelot co-star Franco Nero and they are still married to this day. This version is not as much of a horror film as the original, despite two murder sequences. Peter Manning Robinson's music helps add some pathos to the conclusion, but it still doesn't make sense that Jane would say "you mean all this time we could have been friends" when she finds out Blanche was only crippled trying to kill her sister!

Verdict: Not as good as the original, but not without its peculiar "charms." ***.

SMASHING TIME

SMASHING TIME (1967). Director: Desmond Davis.

Two young ladies decide to go to London and take the town by storm, and they nearly do. Yvonne (Lynn Redgrave of Georgy Girl) is large, gaudy and gauche, and her pal Brenda (Rita Tushingham of The Leather Boys) is slight, homely, but sticks up for herself. They head straight toward Carnaby street where the excitement is. Their assorted misadventures include working in a club where a patron takes a tipsy Yvonne home to his apartment as Brenda follows; Brenda working for a woman who owns a fashion shop but who couldn't care less about business; Yvonne working in a restaurant, "Sweeney Todd," that only serves pies (leading to a major pie fight); and Yvonne becoming a screechy pop singer while Brenda is somehow turned into a model. Smashing Time is amiable and the ladies are fine (although Tushingham perhaps mugs a bit too much), but director Davis lets everything go on too long, including an early scene in a coffee shop and the aforementioned pie fight, until it just isn't funny anymore. Michael York [Something for Everyone] plays a photographer who takes a picture of a delighted Yvonne, but publishes it as a look to avoid, "the girl who got it wrong." There are some pleasant music hall-type tunes in the film as well, and a zany climax.

Verdict: Some fun and an awful lot of silliness. **1/2.

GEORGY GIRL

Big Face meets Big Bones: Alan Bates, Lynn Redgrave

GEORGY GIRL (1966). Director: Silvio Narizzano.

Georgina (Lynn Redgrave) is a homely, big-boned, schlumpy 22-year-old who lives with her ice princess roommate, Meredith (the well-cast Charlotte Rampling of Asylum), who has a nutty boyfriend named Jos (Alan Bates of An Unmarried Woman). Georgina gets a bizarre "business" proposition from James Leamington (James Mason) -- her father is Leamington's major domo -- who wants her to become his official mistress; obviously big bones and messiness turn him on. But Georgy is much more attracted to Jos, who has gotten Meredith pregnant and may marry her ... what's a big-boned girl to do? It's hard to believe that this movie was once popular, because the only thing really memorable about it is the amusing theme song performed by the Seekers. Redgrave and Georgy are irritating to the extreme; Bates seems to think he's acting in a cartoon; Mason, demeaned by his role, doesn't seem to know where the hell he is or what he's doing; and Rampling, of all people, comes off best in her steely portrait of a cold, unrepentant bitch. The "mod" approach of the film severely dates it, and everyone seems horribly miscast. Not a single character is remotely sympathetic. Aside from the theme song, the one thing that stands out is a wonderful shot of a dog standing stock still (for a while) as a funeral procession goes by. Things pick up a bit for the very ending, but by then it's too late. This is not only stupid and unfunny, but tedious. Incredibly, Redgrave [Last of the Mobile Hot Shots], who is not that good, was nominated for a best actress Oscar (Mason was nominated for supporting actor even though this is one of his least memorable roles) and won the Golden Globes.

Verdict: Play the tune and skip the movie. *1/2.

THE HOUSE OF REDGRAVE: THE LIVES OF A THEATRICAL DYNASTY

THE HOUSE OF REDGRAVE: The Lives of a Theatrical Dynasty. Tim Adler. London: Aurum Press; 2012.

Despite the title, this book is essentially a biography of the late Tony Richardson, the British film director who was married to Vanessa Redgrave and was the father of the late Natasha Richardson, who died when she was married to actor Liam Neeson (The Other Man). Apparently the book's publisher thought that Richardson's name wouldn't sell a book, so this was re-imagined as a book on all of the Redgraves, which it isn't, even though there are sections on Vanesssa, her brother Colin, and her daughters late in the book; most of the text covers the life and career of Tony Richardson (The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner; Tom Jones), who brought a stark reality to British theater and cinema that had been missing before. Adler looks at the nutty brother and sister duo of Vanessa and Colin (the latter of whom is largely unknown in the U.S.), both of whom devoted more attention to radical politics than to their own children. Lynn Redgrave, despite a highly successful career, gets short shrift except for passages on her discovering that her husband was the actual father of her grandchild and the resulting scandal, and her death from cancer. Richardson is portrayed as a gifted narcissist who could be both generous and loved, nasty and hated, and was decidedly confused and uptight about his sexuality. Adler doesn't seem that comfortable or up-to-date when writing about Redgrave's and Tony Richardson's homosexuality, and some passages might be considered borderline homophobic and decidedly dated. However, the book is a good read and generally well-done if you're looking for a tome on Richardson and his circle. For a book that's actually about Michael Redgrave and his family, see Donald Spoto's The Redgraves: A Family Epic.

Verdict: Quick and entertaining read, albeit flawed. ***.

THE LAST OF THE MOBILE HOT SHOTS

Robert Hooks and Lynn Redgrave

THE LAST OF THE MOBILE HOT SHOTS (1970). Director: Sidney Lumet.

"Go home with you? -- but I don't even know you." -- Myrtle

Myrtle Kane (Lynn Redgrave), who once belonged to a group called the "Mobile Hot Shots," gets a stranger, Jeb Thornton (James Coburn), to pretend he's engaged to her so they can win some prizes on a local game show. Unfortunately, the host also wants to marry them on the program. Jeb takes Myrtle back to his dilapidated plantation, Waverly, where he lives with his black half-brother, "Chicken" (Robert Hooks). The dying Jeb agreed that Chicken would have the plantation after his death if he helped him work it, and signed a paper to that effect, but now he sends Myrtle out to get back the paper by any means possible. But Chicken knows something that may make all of Jeb's manipulations unnecessary. Loosely based on Tennessee Williams' play "The Seven Descents of Myrtle," it's a wonder why anyone thought Mobile Hot Shots would make a good movie. Everyone is miscast, and Lumet is certainly the wrong director. The movie can't seem to make up its mind if it's a comedy or not -- there are a couple of chuckles, but that's it, and the final revelation is a pip  -- but its biggest failing is that with all that's going on it's still a bore [even a climactic flood doesn't help much]. Redgrave seems to be channeling Geraldine Page in Sweet Bird of Youth (although her character is completely different), but she makes one of the the least convincing Williams' heroines ever. Coburn makes some effort but gets nowhere, and Hooks comes off best, but in this movie that's not saying much. Still it's hard to play Williams just right, and mediocre Williams is even harder. Gore Vidal's screenplay at one point seems to hint at homosexual incest, but as it comes out of nowhere and is unconvincing anyway, it was probably just to set up a quick, dumb gag late in the movie. The premise of the picture is intriguing but the development is just dismal. With Hooks playing a character who denies his being black, one would have to say Hot Shots is horribly dated as well. [If one wonders why anyone would want to own a property like Waverly in the first place, all I can say is real estate!]

Verdict: This should just be washed away with the flood. *1/2.

THE REDGRAVES: A FAMILY EPIC Donald Spoto

THE REDGRAVES: A Family Epic. Donald Spoto. Crown; 2012.

This is a solid and highly interesting -- and rather depressing -- look at a famous theatrical family. The first -- and most compelling -- half of the book looks at patriarch Michael Redgrave, who fathered three children but whose main passion was for men, and had boyfriends all during his marriage, some of whom could be considered long-time partners. The second half of the book looks more closely at the lives and careers of Redgrave's daughters Vanessa and Lynn, and son, Corin, all of whom became actors. Redgrave's wife, actress Rachel Kempson, eventually took a lover of her own, but he was also attracted to men, and Vanessa's husband, director Tony Richardson, was also homosexual [these men were "bisexual" in the sense they also had relationships with women, if for no other reason than appearances, but their main interest was men]. All of this old-fashioned shame and guilt from closet cases gets wearying after awhile, even if the time period was pre-Stonewall [the advent of modern day Gay Liberation]. The Redgraves does not ignore the careers and achievements of these individuals, however, and also looks into the lives of Nastasha Richardson [Tony and Vanesssa's daughter, who died tragically young] and Jemma Redgrave, another very talented actress. Spoto weaves an excellent tapestry of changing attitudes toward both actors and gays, with a theatrical and film world background providing added atmosphere.

Verdict: Well-done and a very good read. ***1/2.