The spectre of the David Begelman embezzlement scandal looms large over this 1982 Ray Stark mega-production, even though it was merely a twinkle in Columbia Pictures' eye in Indecent Exposure, David McClintick's fascinating examination of the impropriety back in the late 70s. Considering the musical's pedigree and the price they paid (9.5 million for the rights), the oft-troubled studio had no qualms about throwing as much cashola as possible at such a sure-fire blockbuster. Yet despite some pacing issues, the reason this John Huston-directed musical featuring a once-in-a-lifetime cast failed (only to have its bad reputation softened thanks to the massive critical disdain for the 2014 remake) may be a simple case of a studio having way too much confidence and chutzpah to take a breath and hedge a bet or four.
Watching this at the Alamo Drafthouse with my 9-year-old daughter, I at least knew she'd like Sandy the Doggo. And maybe, just maybe, the plight of this similarly-aged moppet would pique her interest. I must say, for the first hour, there's very little to complain about. Huston, who probably spent his time nudging Albert Finney about Under the Volcano in between taking hits off his oxygen tank, guides the project with a steady hand, correctly choosing to stage musical sequences in long, unbroken wide shots because unlike many movie musicals of today, most of the cast here are seasoned theatre professionals and don't need fancy editing to hide their choreographic ineptitude. The attitude is bright and cheerful and songs like "It's a Hard Knock Life" and "Maybe" articulate why Charles Strouse and Martin Charnin's work was so beloved in the first place. "I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here" is pretty much the prototype for Beauty and the Beast's "Be Our Guest." Then...they go see Camille and the movie stops dead. It's not immediate, but all of a sudden the rhythm feels off and it's as if the film fell into a swamp of thick muck and has to trudge its way to the finish line.
Even in the early 80s when the Razzies were a fringe awards outlet at best, Aileen Quinn "winning" Worst Actress must've stung. Being saddled with such a gargantuan responsibility (I'm reminded of young Natalie Gregory having to shoulder the 3-hour TV version of Alice in Wonderland) couldn't have been easy, and I found her to be charming, if lacking in a certain intangible star quality that some got and some don't. Her acapella version of "Tomorrow" is lovely to behold, although you keep worrying future vampire Edward Herrman's FDR is gonna pull an Interview with the Vampire and make her his Claudia.
The adult cast is made up of some of the greatest stage and screen performers ever. While she can't quite match up to Dorothy Loudon's vitriolic, sneering stage Miss Hannigan (she reportedly told original stage Annie Andrea McArdle 'If you ever move when I'm saying something funny, you will not get to take a bow at the end of the show!'), she's at least got some intensity. At times, Finney gives off the impression that the material is beneath him, while the legendary trio of Broadway royalty (Ann Reinking, Bernadette Peters, Tim Curry) get to strut their stuff in amusing, if less than dynamic roles. At least Reinking gets to indulge in extended dance sequences which show why she was such an important part of Bob Fosse's life. Then there's the great Geoffrey Holder, the Tony-winning director of The Wiz and iconic Bond villain, whom I could've sworn had no dialogue when I saw this as a kid but actually gets a line or two. Go figure.
It's a sumptuous, extravagant affair that gets bogged down by an overwritten plot. And why does choreographer Arlene Phillips stage so many numbers on stairs? That must’ve been a little slice of hell! It may still dazzle little ones, but don't be surprised if the fidgeting begins somewhere around the mid-section.
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