Lord Love a Duck

This film is a brilliant black comedy on par with Dr. Strangelove and that's not being hyperbolic. It's incredible that this film is unknown, it ought to at least be a cult favorite. By turns strange, hilarious, bizarre and even moving, if you haven't seen this you should. It is unlike any movie I've ever seen. I first saw it when I was a teenager when it came on an afternoon movie showing. (This was before the afternoon dial was filled up with Jerry Springer and his ilk.) I'm sure at least twenty minutes to a half hour were cut out of it to make room for commercials but I knew instantly this was something special. Something different. Something that touched a nerve where other movies had completely passed me by. And as if that weren't enough, the scene with Tuesday Weld going shopping for sweaters is my choice for the single most erotic scene in the history of movies. Get it. Watch it. Consider yourself a cut above the rest because you are in for something special.

I put this movie in a category with other slightly anarchic anti-establishment movies such as "The Graduate," "If..." and "The Magic Christian." The only difference is that it pre-dates all of them. Being the first of its kind, its a slightly awkward film that doesn't always know what to do with itself. There are plenty of holes in the plot, and, if its a comedy the dramatic scenes are too strident, if its a drama then it is all done with too much flippancy.

On the whole, though, I really enjoyed it. I don't claim to be an expert on the culture of the mid-sixties, but it tackles a lot of topics that seemed to be taboo at the time, like Marie's death, and their rather self-conscious use of the word prostitute.

The acting is all excellent, I was particularly impressed with Tuesday Weld's performance. I had never really thought of her as anything more than the vapid lead to a bunch of teen movies, but I was really surprised at what a good actress she was. Roddy McDowall is excellent as Mollymauk, but the uneveness of the film doesn't do the character justice, and you get the feeling with a little more work on the plot and the pacing, he could have made the film hysterical.

Anyway, it was a good film, particularly impressive when you think of it as the prototype of a genre of film which is still being produced today.

The early nineteen sixties were the great age of black comic satire in American cinema. Everyone remembers Doctor Strangelove and The Nutty Professor and Lolita and One Two Three and The Loved One.In a sense, this neglected masterpiece was the culmination. Even though Axelrod wasn't a genius like Kubrick or Wilder, this film hits its target just as unerringly. Think of it as a darker, much more savage Rushmore, in which almost all the false Gods of our civilization - phony preachers, psychoanalysis, public "education",consumerism, youth 'culture',- are weighed in the scales and found wanting. Roddy Mcdowall and Tuesday Weld give two of the great comic perfomances. Indeed, Mcdowall is inspirational to any would-be anarchist. Should be seen - and discussed - more often. Scorsese once listed this film among his "guilty pleasures": He has nothing to be guilty about-this is wonderful

Sex suffused satire on something or other that may have been cutting edge in '66, but is no longer. Sure, I get the shaking beach butts of Gidget, the drive-in religiosity of SoCal car culture, or Mom's Playboy bunny cum' prostitute. Some movie parts of course are funnier than others. Trouble is, whether funny or not, they're poorly blended, unlike the better satires of the day—The Loved One (1965), Dr. Strangelove (1964). Unfortunately, the vignettes here sprawl without adding up.

What the film does have in spades is Tuesday Weld. If there was ever a better sex kitten with bite, I haven't seen her. She injects real spunk into the often lame proceedings. Plus, who would have thought that Peter Gunn's dignified torch singer, Lola Albright, could be so funny. Then too, what an inspiration getting Ruth Gordon to do her waspish bit, as a mother, no less. On the other hand, Mc Dowell tries hard, but he's caught up in a role that borders on the incoherent. Could be that his 35-year old teenager is supposed to make a profound statement, but if so, It's beyond me

As I recall, writer Axelrod's film got a lot of buzz at the time. After all, the mid-60's were a time of growing social ferment. Thus, the long-time lid on movies was at last coming off, and what these satirical films show is that black humor was definitely in the air. Trouble is, unlike Strangelove or Loved One, this film doesn't get beyond that time period. There's no unifying theme that could compensate for the meandering lamer parts. As a result, it's more like a regional (SoCal) artifact than anything lasting-- except, of course, for us fans of Tuesday, in which case it's a permanent fan fest.

First time I saw this I could hardly believe the many, many visible boom mikes throughout the film. Loved the picture regardless, and now I've come to accept those boom mikes as characters as central to LORD LOVE A DUCK's frazzled beauty as Roddy McDowall & Tuesday Weld, its stars.

Most knowledgeable film fans hold 70s films in reverence for their embracing of a deeper, richer reality more inspired by novels than by prior Hollywood films. 60s cinema tends to suffer by comparison: it often seems like a clumsy standoff between the death-throes of the old studios and their formulas, and the insisting beating on the door of a new, artistic, more experimental aesthetic: DUCK is one of those, subverting the soundstage-bound Mickey & Judy cliches by emulating that shot-on-indoor-sets look, with the vital modification of peopling this familiar artifical environment with the hyperAmerican grotesques who routinely populate Geo Axelrod's universe. Thus, like a lot of the best 60s movies, DUCK is part-fish, part-fowl and suffused with an atmosphere of strangeness beyond its subject matter - yet, given how Real Life in that decade similarly swayed on unsteady footing in two seperate realities, it works beautifully. And it definitely doesn't hurt that Tuesday Weld is a goddess of apple-cheeked carnality and conspicuous consumption. She may not be Everywoman exactly, but she IS Everywoman who ever dreamed of marrying Elvis, and that's good enough - like the King, you can't help falling in love with her. As has been noted, the 'cashmere sweater' scene is among the most erotic scenes ever caught on film - unnervingly so, given she's playing the scene with, and for, her father.

The movie is chockfull of scenes that similarly push black humor and social satire past the threshold of good taste or story logic; you're either going to go with it, or reject it altogether. I recommend the former: like a lot of underrated and outright ignored 60s movies that don't comfortably fit into any standard category, LORD LOVE A DUCK rewards the viewer who's willing to suspend disbelief for an hour-and-a-half with a totally absorbing and unique unreality all its own. It's a buzz you can only get from an American film made between JFK and Tricky Dick, and it's a hoot besides.