Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) in the PNW

Details: Written by: Mortado; Category: The 1970s in Northwest Cinemas

This is a collection of media from the initial runs of "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" (1969) in the Pacific Northwest.

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Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970)
"Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" arrives like a hangover you did not ask for and cannot fully escape. It is loud, garish, and shamelessly theatrical, a movie that seems to have been stitched together from the leftover glitter of late sixties excess and a spiteful, satirical streak that never quite decides whether it wants to skewer Hollywood or drown in it. The plot, such as it is, propels a trio of wide-eyed musicians from the provinces into the maw of Los Angeles show business, where managers, moguls, lovers, and predators orbit them like vultures with better hair. The film moves at a manic clip, piling on sex, drugs, and melodrama until the screen feels sticky with it, and the director and co-writer treat every scene as an opportunity to shout, to shock, or to wink at the audience with a knowing smirk.

Acting ranges from committed camp to full-bore hysteria; performances are deliberately exaggerated, as if the cast were instructed to perform through a megaphone. The leads oscillate between naive charm and brittle cynicism, and the supporting players—agents, producers, and hangers-on—are drawn as grotesques, caricatures whose moral bankruptcy is the point. The dialogue is often clunky and on the nose, but that bluntness becomes part of the film’s personality: it is not trying to be subtle, and when it attempts satire it does so with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Musically and visually, the movie is a time capsule of its era, drenched in period fashions and a soundtrack that alternates between catchy and grating, which only amplifies the sense that the film is both of its moment and gleefully mocking it.

Tonally the picture is a mess in the best possible way for viewers who enjoy being unsettled. It lurches between earnest melodrama and gleeful exploitation, and that instability is its engine. There is a perversely entertaining energy in watching the film gleefully overplay its hand: every excess feels intentional, as if the filmmakers are daring the audience to be scandalized. Yet beneath the glitter and the outrageous set pieces there is a bleak view of fame and the entertainment industry—one that suggests glamour is a veneer over rot. The satire lands unevenly; sometimes it cuts with a sharp edge, other times it collapses into indulgence. But even when it fails, it fails spectacularly, which is often more interesting than polite competence.

If you go in expecting a polished critique of show business, you will be disappointed; if you go in expecting a polished film at all you will be disappointed. If you go in expecting a delirious, occasionally brilliant, frequently ridiculous ride through the underbelly of celebrity culture, you might find it intoxicating. "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" is not subtle, it is not tidy, and it will not win you over with restraint. It will, however, leave a mark: a gaudy, abrasive, and oddly affectionate portrait of an industry that chews people up and spits them out, all while the band plays on.

Director: Russ Meyer
Writers: Roger Ebert, Russ Meyer
Stars: Dolly Read, Cynthia Myers, Marcia McBroom
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August 11, 1970 ad (Seattle)