Erotic Strains

...because I did not see it I can report however, that the movie hardly lives up to the hype The biggest turn-off is Frank Langella's impersonation of the Count I've been hopelessly addicted to Dracula movies ever since childhood and have enjoyed the very different performances of Max Schreck (in the original 1922 Nosfeiam), Bela Lugosi, Lon Chanev Jr , John Carradine, Christopher Lee, and even Mike Raven I feel confident, therefore, in saying that never has there been a vampire as vapid as this one With his hilarious exaggerated mannerisms, spastic eyebrows and wheezy elocution, Langella reduces the blood-crazed nobleman to a bloodless epicene who would be more at home sipping white wine in a SoHo lott than drinking the blood of peasants in Transylvania Matters are not helped by John Bad-ham's direction and W D Riehter's script, which emphasize the campy elements of the story by stressing the "romance" between the vampire and his victims Representative are the moony expressions on the faces ot the hapless females before and after their necks are bitten, and a self-parodying, over-stylized sequence in black and flame meant to symbolize the climactic union of the Count and Miss Lucy (Kate Nel-ligan) The meticulously detailed, overstuffed sets look as if they were designed by limp-wristed interior decorators Gilbert Taylor s cinematography is overripe, and John Williams' score thunders with orgasmic fury at all the wrong moments Badham and Richter, moreover, have stumbled into some howlers The appetite of one of the minor characters tor insects, for example, is comprehensible only to those ot us who have been weaned on vampire films Worse the transposition ot the Count's castle from Transylvania to England makes no sense whatsoever, apart from bud-getary considerations, and calls into question the logic of the entire opening sequence (because this is the single episode in the movie faithful to Bram Stoker s novel, it sticks out like a sore thumb)Finally the Count is dispatched in such a peculiar fashion—no stake through the heart for him'—that the prospect of a sequel, not any kind of dramatic or narrative sense, had to be impelling the filmmakers Unlike Dracula, The Wandereis, adapted from Richard Price's novel, is not pointless Quite the contrary, it may make too many points, for it is really not one movie but three The first is an episodic account of the growing pains of an Italian youth gang—an East Coast version of American Graffiti, falling somewhere in time and attitude between Rebel Without a Cause and Mean Streets Sporting gold and maroon satin jackets that are emblazoned with the name they borrowed from Dion's hit record, the Wanderers cruise the streets of the Bronx, circa 1963 Philip Kaufman's direction and the script he wrote with Rose Kaufman are particularly strong when conveying the painful predicaments and absurdities of adolescent angst Richie (Ken Wahl), the leader of the gang, is on the verge of a joyless marriage to his high-school sweetheart, Despie (Tom Kalem), her biggest worry is whether or not to "put out" for him—and once she does, what he will do when he discovers she's pregnant At make-out parties in houses conveniently vacated by parents, in much-prized but sadly battered cars, and in dingy classrooms that remind you just how uncomfortable those wooden chairs with writing-surface arms really were, the Kaufmans skillfully sketch the almost universal experiences of the modern American teenager The best and funniest vignette is a strip poker game involving Richie, Despie, Joey (John Friedrich), the pipsqueak of the gang, and Nina (Karen Allen), the girl from outside the neighborhood As the game proceeds, the boys engage in ever more outrageous and obvious cheating to get the girls out of their clothes, amid much nervous giggling, anxious banter and sidelong leers, the awkward and desperate efforts of the boys and the silent and subconscious complicity of the girls in their own seduction are wonderfully conveyed by the dialogue, staging and particularly the acting of the four principals Almost as fine is the scene that finds the gang clambering down fire escapes and rushing through back alleys to congregate on Fordham Road, choreographed to the Four Seasons' "Walk Like a Man," the swirling images of gold and maroon should put Twyla Tharp to shame Presented without condescension, too, are the petty rituals of the gang members?no guns, no knives" in rumbles—and the lacquered and teased hairdos and pushup bras of their girl friends But somewhere along the way the Kaufmans become dissatisfied with this comic and affecting story of high-school life and decide to tack on a horror movie reminiscent of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, which Philip Kaufman remade last year Whenever the Wanderers stray beyond their turf, for instance, the fog lumbers in on clumsy feet and the pod people turn up, except now they're called the Ducky Boys, a rival Irish street gang that is composed of faceless, crewcut punks Again, when Turkey (Alan Rosenberg) gets his just rewards for betraying his fellow Wanderers, his death occurs amid much religious symbolism, like the chase and conflagration at the climax of Body Snatchers Kaufman also grotesquely distorts a football game between the Wanderers and a black gang It begins as a comic war, like the gridiron contest in M*A*S*H But then the Irish gang appears and the two teams unite against it in a perverse affirmation of brotherhood, once more recalling Invasion of the Body Snatchers—complete with disjointed slow-motion effects, bizarre electronic music, and surreal staging and continuity Still not content, though, the Kaufmans mix a third element into their brew The focus of the main story is extremely narrow, the gang's universe being extremely parochial, so awkward attempts are made to establish the larger social and political context of 1963 America There is a clumsy reference to the Kennedy assassination (to the tune of Ben E King's "Stand by Me," no less), and a heavy-handed scene at Folk City—a long way from the Bronx—where Bob Dylan is glimpsed singing (what else...

...On Screen EROTIC STRAINS BY ROBERT ASAHINA Now that Americans have been attracted to Laura Antonelli's physical charms in The Innocent and Wifemistress, distributors are attempting to cash in on her earlier films Thus the recent rerelease of Mahzia (currently called Maltuous), shown here four years ago, and the first release of Till Mamave Do Us Pail, made in 1975 but never exhibited in the United States As much as 1 enjoy seeing Antonelli, I wish I had been spared the latter Till Marriage Do Us Pail is an astonishingly tasteless sex farce On their wedding night, Eugenia (Antonelli) and Raimondo (Alberto Lionello) discover that they apparently have the same father With her newly awakened appetites so cruelly frustrated, the vu-gin bride begins a sex-education course that takes her (torn one frantic coupling to another—with her husband's chaulleur (Michcle Placido), her husband's friend (Jean Rochefort) and even with her girlfriend (Kami Schubert) In the process, she goes through about a dozen costume changes involving a flurry of 1920s fashions?Hutly petticoats, trully slips, lacy garter belts—and we get one glimpse after another ot her amply endowed body Then, in a stupendously contrived scene, the whole of her is exposed as she stands totally nude in her bathtub After that revealing moment, the movie has nowhere to go but down the drain Having surrendered to decadence, Raimondo and Eugenia decide to indulge in incest—only to discover at the last moment that they really aren't brother and sister Dismayed at the prospect of respectable sex between a married couple, they go their separate ways The raison d'etre for this sleazy softcore flick is obvious Less apparent is the reason for the participation of talented performers like Rochetort, one of France's leading character actors (He starred as the inspector in The Clotkmakear and the bit player in Salut L' Artiste) As tor Antonelli, I trust that these reminders ot earlier stages ot her career are no less embarrassing tor net than they arc tor us Dracula too, has been touted as an extremely erotic production I can I comment on the stage play that is supposed to have inspired the film...

...The Times They Are A'Changin' ' Even if all these landmarks of the era are in Price's novel, responsibility for the ham-fisted treatment in the movie must be borne by the Kaufmans The performers are largely unknowns, and they are generally excellent In the leading role, Wahl projects just the right mixture of adolescent bravado and insecurity Even better is Kalem, who is not afraid to be unpleasant in a pathetically unsympathetic part—that of a nagging, clinging teenage girl who is desperate for domesticity because she has no other options In the easier role of a young woman liberated before her time, Allen, a lovely actress (last seen in Animal House) who could pass for Brooke Adams' sister, expertly signals the contradictory messages of sexual accessibility and social aloofness that have tantalized young men throughout the ages Similarly sympathetic is Tony Gamos as the amiable giant Perry, who befriends the puny Joey Unfortunately, throughout his career Gamos will have to bear the cross of resembling Sylvester Stallone Linda Manz, who once received a lot of praise (undeserved, to my mind) for her acting in Days of Heaven, turns in a nicely modulated performance as Peewee, the tiny girlfriend of the monstrous and aptly named Terror (Erland Van Lidth de Jeude), the leader of the Fordham Baldies, Jeude has to be seen to be believed Well over 6' tall and more than 300 pounds, bald as an egg, he is a figure out of a nightmare, it will be interesting to see where his career leads It is a pity that the Kaufmans did not have the discipline to make the first movie and discard the other two If they had it, all these fine actors would not be submerged in what is ultimately a hopelessly confused film...