Angel, Angel, Down We Go

The main reason to savor this deliciously decadent dress rehearsal for the entire career of John Waters is the very guilty pleasure of watching Jennifer Jones not only perform an homage to Gloria Swanson in "Sunset Boulevard" but apparently actually LIVE the role. Ms. Jones (nee Phylis Isley when she began her career as John Wayne's leading lady 30 years before this cuckoo classic was release)may NOT have been certifiable when she agreed to appear...but I for one can't think of any other logical explanation.

The widow of David O'Selznic plays "The richest woman in the world" who is also "the most beautiful woman in the world" (personal quotes from the character...read with complete conviction by the actress...as is the admission to being "45"...Jones was 50...)...

The character has an pudgy daughter named "Tara" (another quote from Jone's character "I LIKED 'Gone With The Wind'")...could the whirring sound I hear be The sound of Selznic rotating and revolving in his grave?? Why this grotesque but utterly fascinating slash at "Hollywood Royalty" is not known better under either of it's titles ("Cult of the Damned" was on the print I saw) is beyond me...it should have been a spookily prescient harbinger of the collapse of "old Hollywood" especially since it was released only ten days after the town (and the world) went reeling in the Horror of the murder of Sharon Tate...a crime it is impossible to avoid thinking of while watching this study of L.A. high society brutally invaded upon by a group of sadistic drug addled musicians.

If you need more reasons to watch how about sweet little Roddy Mcdwell bearing his behind and playing gay (his lines about being rejected by the draft board aren't skating on this ice...they are more like dancing on it in toe shoes!!).

All in all...a film so amazing and appalling...that it might be a masterpiece of schlock!

American-International Pictures during the 1960s usually had a good idea of what their drive-in audience would like to see, but they really missed the boat with "Angel, Angel, Down We Go" (a.k.a. "Cult of the Damned"), which was a box office disappointment. Studio head Samuel Z. Arkoff theorized that the failure of the movie was because the characters in the movie simply were not sympathetic, and the movie was extremely downbeat. That's certainly true, but the movie has additional problems. It's also pretty slow, with its thin story stretched out to the breaking point. Also, I am not sure what point the movie was trying to make, unless it was that life is a real downer. The movie is sometimes directed in an eye-catching manner (particularly the opening minutes), but it doesn't manage to hide that the story and characters are drab and uninteresting. It took a long time for this movie to get a home video release, though if you ask me, it could have stayed in obscurity.

Jennifer Jones gets to sleaze it up as the rich mother (who did NOT to stag movies, they keep saying) of an overweight deubutaunte who escapes with a bunch of drug abusing hippies and turns into a disaster. Almost all of the dialogue is overdone and over performed and it becomes the most hysterically funny camp experience since Valley of the Dolls. It must be seen to be believed.

the review in the "Psychotronic Encyclopedia Of Film" had me looking for this one, for years. Finally found it in 2003, and wouldn't you know, it has ended up on USA cable here a year later. (Showtime Beyond is really exhuming the hard to find AIP stuff regularly) So, what to say. The casting is positively bizarre, with Jennifer Jones, modeling the same outfit she later wore in "Towering Inferno"; Protest singer Holly Near as her troubled fat-girl daughter; Charles Aidman as the rich, secretly gay, father; Jordan Christopher as the freaky rock singer/producer,currently working with his new band "The Rabbit Habit" featuring Lou Rawls (who never sings?), and Roddy McDowell in his freakiest psychedelic film. It starts with Christopher appearing to be a liberating force, but by the end, the drug use/criminal activity leaves no one liberated, and some dead. It's fairly pointless overall, but there are some classic moments to be treasured. Favorite dialogue award goes to Jones, with the classic:"In my heart of hearts, I'm a sexual clam", though Roddy's mini-rant about sexuality, ending with his description of being "turned on" by a carrot comes real close. Hardly classic, but rewarding for the curious! Good companion piece to similar epics from that time, from "LSD, I hate you", on back to "Skidoo", and "Gas-s-s-s, or it may become necessary to destroy the world in order to save it!"

A compelling, unjustly neglected piece of psychedelic trash exploitation that has to be seen (and heard!) to be believed! Fans of Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls, Charles Manson and The Monkees Head take note. You haven't lived until you've seen Roddy McDowall as a tripped out freak or hummed along with the Mann/Weil ditty about how groovy it is to be fat. And Bogart Peter Stuyvesant! Boy, they don't have names like that anymore. One part Jim Morrison and one part Lorenzo Saint DuBois. Start the revolution without him, PLEASE.

Loved it!!