Showing posts with label cheryl ladd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cheryl ladd. Show all posts

Monday, June 30, 2014

Load Up the Calamine Lotion


Poison Ivy is one of those much-referenced ‘90s sexy thrillers that I’m guessing less people have seen than used as a punchline. I do not tolerate such hijinks.

Quick Plot: Darlene Connor--er, Sylvia Cooper--is a lonely teenager making minor attempts to revolt against her wealthy, recovering alcoholic dad (Tom Skerritt and later, Tom Skerritt's butt) and beautiful but dying mother (Cheryl Ladd). To her surprise, the socially awkward Sylvia befriends the blond, beautiful, and rebellious new girl on a scholarship named (sorta) Ivy.


They each buy one half of a best friend necklace, help each other with their homework, and team up to win the big science fair competition.


Wait, that must have been the R-rated editions. Let me change the settings on this DVD.


OH.

While she begins with the lovable smile of Drew Barrymore, it only takes a month or so for Ivy to draw our her inner Crush-era Alicia Silverstone (pre-chewing up food and spitting it in her baby's mouth, naturally).


Directed by The Rage: Carrie 2's Katt Shea, Poison Ivy is certainly a film of its early '90s time period, most notably in its smoldering saxophone infused score. The film was fairly infamous and went on to spawn three sequels, all (as far as I can tell from quick synopses) with the same basic formula of a mystery hot chick befriending a wallflower and overtaking her life. We've seen it before and I can't imagine living in a world where we won't see it again.



That being said, I was surprised at how much fun I had with Poison Ivy. Barrymore, an actress I've always found to be likable but limited, manages some of her best work with Ivy, conveying a trashy sweetness in early scenes and carefully transitioning to her sexy inner sociopath. Sarah Gilbert was always the best thing on Roseanne (and considering the talents of Laurie Metcalf and John Goodman, that says a lot) so it's no surprise to see her nail a similarly alienated teen. 


Also, this film is SLEAZY. I'm talking "Tom Skerritt orally pleasing an underage Drew Barrymore on the bed that this dying wife is sleeping on" sleazy. Maybe I should have saved that bit for the--

High Points
I mean, this film has Tom Skerritt orally pleasing an underage Drew Barrymore on the bed that this dying wife is sleeping on. You can't say the film doesn't go for it


Low Points
It's not necessarily the film's fault that since its debut 22 years ago, Lifetime has produced dozens and dozens of movies with the exact same premise and beats


Lessons Learned
TMJ almost killed Burt Reynolds


You can’t put 200 people on the sidewalk just cause you don’t like an editorial

When in doubt, never forget the powers of a sexy saxophone score


Rent/Bury/Buy
Poison Ivy is a Long Wait on Netflix, leading me to believe it's out of print (oddly enough, the same goes for Shea's The Rage). While this isn't the kind of movie you need to start eBaying madly, I do certainly recommend a watch if it crosses your screen. Particularly if you’re in the mood for true and utter sleaze.


Saturday, March 17, 2012

Lisa It's the '90s, Happy '90s Lisa


Ahhh, tweendom, a crucial time period in a young girl’s life filled with peer pressure, shopping malls, unrequited crushes, and Blossom hats. 

It’s a generational thing.
Quick Plot: Lisa (My Two Dads’ kid Staci Keanan) is a responsible(ish) 14-year-old with a close "we're like sisters!" relationship with her single mom (Cheryl Ladd) and mildly unsettling hobby of innocently stalking older men from afar and putting their pictures in a scrapbook she compiles with BFF Wendy. Nothing bad can come from that, right?


One day, Lisa bumps into Richard, a good-looking restaurant owner who instantly becomes her latest obsession. Before she can ask mother may I sleep with danger, Lisa is making late-night calls to Richard with a husky Cinemax caliber voice, teasing him with her secret identity while still wondering why her silly mom won't let her date until she celebrates sweet 16.

Oh Lisa, silly silly Lisa. Didn't you hear that ominously sexy smooth saxophone playing over the opening credits? Haven't you noticed the way Richard's dark eyes linger on attractive women who end up raped and dead the next day? Silly teenagers and their ignorance of the world. If only our precocious heroine had read a newspaper and picked up on the fact that Richard is so enamored by answering machines, maybe the little dear would have pieced together the fact that Richard is the infamous Candlelight Killer, the sort of criminal that only exists on Lifetime movies: handsome, wealthy, and classy in his kills of beautiful women.


Lisa was a 1990 theatrical release, although watching it today, the movie feels made for TV in a way most PG-13esque thrillers about romantic obsession usually are. Director Gary Sherman has a varied genre resume, with the interesting subway cannibal tale Raw Meat, the maybe Dan O’Bannon inspired Dead and Buried, and the tragic but not as worthless as folks say Poltergeist III. Lisa is more than competently made, but its target audience is currently in seventh grade.


In many ways, Lisa seems to anticipate the imminent chat room dating horror stories of the mid-90s. Lisa and Wendy’s afterschool hijinks are surprisingly believable for teenage girls who get excited by the notion of adult romance without considering any of its actual requirements. Sherman’s script (with co-writer Karen Clark) has a strong ear for the way middle schoolers might talk, and while the fashion and slang may be hilariously dated, the story and its dialogue hold up well.


The styling, on the other hand, extends past the title character’s straight-leg white denim. Lisa looks and feels like a TV movie not just because of its subject matter, but also in how it’s conveyed. The finale is scored to the most ridiculously emotive electric guitar riffs I’ve ever heard try to express danger. It’s weirdly wonderful, but not scary in the least.

High Points
Jeffrey Tambor alert! He’s credited as “Wendy’s Dad,” and hey, I’ll take it


Staci Keanan worked quite a bit in the late ‘80s, and her naturalness in front of the camera shows quite well. While Lisa is something of an idiot in some of her choices, we never doubt Keanan’s performance


Low Points
With its late-night Babysitters' Club tone, it’s just hard to ever really feel the danger Lisa might face

Lessons Learned
Setting your mom up on a pseudo blind date with the mysterious man whom you’ve been having tame phone sex will inevitably have some negative consequences


Between the cinematic years of 1982 to 1994, all little brothers were born with a gene that predisposed them to being obnoxious

Stabbing the guy trying to kill you is a great idea, but standing in fear as he struggles to pull the knife out of his shoulder? Not the brightest

Rent/Bury/Buy
Lisa is sort of like predator propaganda overprotective parents might have enjoyed showing their tween daughters back in the day. While the film is well-made for its ilk, I doubt it translates clearly to a world now run by Facebook and dating websites. Instead, Lisa waits on Instant Watch for viewers looking for some medium brew ‘90s nostalgia. It’s not sleazy enough for a drunken night of trash-talking, nor is it so good to overcome its original target. The film was a slightly better-than-average teenager thriller in 1990. Today, it’s just sort of there.