Strawberries Need Rain

1971
R
1h 25m

IMDb RATING

5.9/10

104

YOUR RATING

Drama Fantasy

Death comes to take a beautiful young girl, and she persuades him to let her live out her fantasies before he finally takes her away.Death comes to take a beautiful young girl, and she persuades him to let her live out her fantasies before he finally takes her away.Death comes to take a beautiful young girl, and she persuades him to let her live out her fantasies before he finally takes her away.

See production info at IMDbPro

IMDb RATING

5.9/10

104

YOUR RATING

See production info at IMDbPro

Trivia
Legend has it that this film was actually passed off as a new Ingmar Bergman film in some theaters, likely based on its title and thematic similarities to the Swedish director's classics Wild Strawberries (1957) and The Seventh Seal (1957). Director Larry Buchanan described this film as a "mortality fantasy, intensely romantic with a grim edge to it, such as I imagined Bergman might have done had he been a Texan."

Goofs
The credits read "and introducing Monica Gayle," but Gayle had previously appeared in a dozen or more films in both credited and uncredited roles.

Alternate versions
In the first screenings of the film, Bergman was actually credited as the director.

Soundtracks
Strawberries Need Rain
Words and Music by Ray Martin
Publisher: Larry Buchanan Productions
By Arrangement with Jaymond Music Corp. (BMI) © 1970

User reviews4

Review

Featured review

Ponderous soft erotica from the acclaimed director of MARS NEEDS WOMEN

A very tired and embarrassed looking Les Tremayne portrays Death himself in this misfired shot at a Bergman homage, courtesy of legendary schlock-slinger Larry Buchanan(ZONTAR, THE THING FROM VENUS, et al).

Death has come for a lovely, small town virgin(Monica Gayle) who has barely had a chance to experience life, but he grants her one more day to live. What she wants to do over the course of that day is hardly a big surprise...

Mannered, though no-less lowbrow sexploitation outing is fodder for a few fortuitous laughs at its bootless attempt to transcend the meretricious nature of its foundations. The decidedly unsubtle material is pitched with a gauzy pisselegance which begs to be ennobled by poetic Left Bank sensitivities. The results are decidedly more grindhouse than art-house(which is just fine, as I see it), though production qualities are, quite surprisingly, fairly solid.

Pretty rare, and pretty likely to stay that way. 4/10