Monday, October 15, 2007

Doctor, You've Got to Be Kidding! (1967)

Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee - lousy with viginity!

When I was eight years old and learned every word to that song (from the musical Grease if you didn't know - you might also want to come out from under that rock - looks uncomfortable under there) I had no idea who Sandra Dee was. The thing is, now that I have discovered her, I don't find her to be lousy with virginity. In almost every role she plays, she ends up sending off the unmistakable allure of innocent desire. Sure, she's virginal, but her eyes say "take me" - maybe that's the point. That innocence was the one thing Rizzo, dancing around in her underwear, knew she didn't have.

Nevertheless, I think Sandra Dee is MUCH sexier than Olivia Newton-John's Sandy. And in this movie she actually loses it. Then, at the end of the movie, when a man says to her "you ARE a vestal virgin" she gets to utter the sinful line "well, not QUITE" - followed by a camera pan down to her pregnant belly. Touche, Rizzo!

I liked this movie despite the "oh those crazy crazy kids" theme that it had going (same as the other sixties movies) - also, did they discover voice over in the sixties? Or just fail to restrain themselves in the use of voice over?

Sandra Dee plays an unwed mother with three men vying for her hand.
FLASHBACK! How did this come to be?
The young virgin had a stage mother and Sandra was her victim - I mean, star. In her quest for the dream of a famous daughter, her mother (who also is mysteriously single - maybe a war widow?) mortgages the house and overlooks the antics of her daughter's amorous beaus.

Sandra's character fights the young men off like a true virgin but can't help giving it up for one man...landing her in the predicament she's in at the beginning of the movie.

In addition to the flashback with awful voice over, there are two dream sequences, an awful montage, and a round of "special effects" where things pop on and off the screen. It's the kind of movie that "Down with Love" mocks so perfectly. And yet it's not a bad evening after all.

After all, Sandra Dee, like I said, just oozes sex without seeming dirty and who is George Hamilton? He's kinda dreamy:

Ew. Or he was in yourself a favor, don't google George Hamilton'll just ruin it for yourself.

Also, there are the costumes! One outfit of a minor player - a secretary, had me mesmerized. And there is a scene where SD dances in a club in high-waisted capri pants and a cropped sweater some little flats and a long bohemian necklace that just made me want to run out and recreate the whole ensemble. (Me to myself: "This is how pants can be so great: they are sexy, sophisticated, relaxed, feminine, modern, and liberated all at once. Also, they make her ass look great.")

Will watch again...just remember to fast forward through the montage of facial expressions that takes the place of an argument in the cab.

Four Stars. Will watch again.


Cheryl said...

Wow, what a progressive(ish) plot for 1967! I just discovered this blog of yours, Amy, and I'm hoping it will be a much needed crash course, since I didn't see movies regularly until the mid-'90s. Keep up the good work!

Ms. Q said...

It is progressive, isn't it? So is my definition of "classic" though ;)

Ms. Q said...

UPDATE: I waited on George Hamilton in a retail outlet where I work this weekend. He was very nice.