Reviews

I have always associated my favorite musicals with Broadway, apart from this one, which is up there with my top three favorites. Filed as a love story, it also makes my top three. And Catherine Deneuve? She's definitely in my top three most beautiful actresses of all time. Then there's Michel Legrand, my second favorite composer (after Chopin, and if you must know, the third ones would be the Lennon/McCartney collaboration). How does one get so willingly hooked to a movie? Just sample the first five minutes of it, you don't even wait for the first lines of song to realize you're in for a gem of a film. Before you hear any of it, the sets are bound to get you. For the colors, those vibrant, palpable colors are a veritable visual feast. And have I mentioned the divine Catherine Deneuve? If there's anything most likely to distract your attention from the sets, it would be her presence. And last, but not least, for long after you may have forgotten the plot, you will never forget this: that melodious, hummable music, a song most of us associate with having heard from childhood, that beautifully threads the scenes of the story together--and you have the perfect musical. The most poignant love story (reminiscent of Splendor in the Grass, another coming-of-age film with a most genetically- blessed lead actors), with an ending that breaks the heart, but one which I completely approve of!

Having read Harold Robbins' book on the sly in high school, I certainly expected nothing but trash from this movie, albeit served with style--come on, most of you saw it to see if Olivier could pull it off. And pull it off he did, hammy acting all the way, and it sure looks as if he enjoyed it too. He plays (parodies is more like it) the patriarch, wanting to leave his legacy with a dream car called The Betsy, named after great-granddaughter Kathleen Beller. He engages the services of Jones, whose father saved his life years back and to whom he feels a certain responsibility, but runs into trouble with his grandson Duvall. Duvall hates granddad with a vengeance, and here's why: the night he witnessed his homosexual father kill himself, the 7-year old Duvall runs to his mother's room to tell her, only to see his grandfather in bed with her. How's that for family issues? Duvall vows to kill granddad's dreams at the directors' board meeting, only to be out-voted by his wife, who is just about fed up with his blatant affair with the stunningly stylish Down, who is also secretly seeing Jones (Down, that is). You still with me? Beller then manages to seduce Jones on the night of her 21st birthday, and afterwards, great-grandfather gives her the keys to the kingdom. After some scenes with the car (with Betsy emblazoned on its entire side--now who would want a car like that?), Jones manages to get Duvall's wife and Betsy's POA, with the backing of his late father's friend mafioso "Uncle" Joe Warren, and elects himself President of the company. The movie ends with Olivier walking (he's supposed to be in a wheelchair after a stroke) into the new president's office with a giant smirk on his face, since cocky Jones clearly got more than he bargained for, as mafioso Joe Warren is now part of the board of directors, and it seems only Olivier can reel him in. At least that's how I understood the ending--I've yet to reread the book to see if I got that last part right! So if you haven't seen the movie yet, don't expect Wuthering Heights please, it's hams, trash and sex all the way.

I loved this movie as a kid, and I appreciate it all the more today! Though not without its share of brawls and draws, its glimpses at the decay of human nature in a small town makes Warlock seem like a Tennessee Williams western--the thinking man's western, so to speak. The plot revolves around the longtime friendship of two men with different principles: Henry Fonda and Anthony Quinn. Gunslinger and not-so-popular Quinn tends to put Fonda on a pedestal and forgive his little imperfections, while gentleman Fonda takes all this for granted and is even oblivious to it, as is the case with some friendships. Of course, it's inevitable that these two come to a duel, right in the heart of the town of Warlock. Who's the faster draw, you wonder? When the dying Quinn gasps "I won Clay, I won," you can't help but agree with him.