The Love Machine

Even though this film was nothing special as such, I am drawn to comment on at least one factor that ruled in its favour - that of the lead female performer in the film, Dyan Cannon. In spite of the film's ridiculous storyline and what she goes through here, hers was the best acting job in the film, making the unbelievable seem more plausible. Her raucous scene with the gay photographer David Hemmings has to be seen to be believed. Good work, Dyan.

The network TV news business as a sleazy cesspool, with John Phillip Law as the titular news-anchor who sleeps his way to the top. Nice idea to have Dionne Warwicke do the song vocals for this movie-adaptation of Jacqueline Susann's bestseller (a la "Valley Of The Dolls")...though it's really too bad this sudser doesn't have Patty Duke's Neely O'Hara to spike the story. "The Love Machine" is unrelievedly dull. Even the final brawl (with an Academy Award as a fight prop!) can't save it. Dyan Cannon seems embalmed in her heavy pancake make-up and cumbersome fall (although her tiny, suntanned figure is a beauty to behold), Law is a handsome block of wood, while David Hemmings is embarrassing in gay-mode as a flamboyant photographer. And where is Robin Stone walking to at the end? Is he trekking out to the waterfront to pick up some sailors? After Cannon has deflated his masculinity, it would be a safe bet. In that case, "Love Machine--The Final Episode" might have been a more interesting flick. Certainly better than this yawn-inducing snooze-opera. *1/2 from ****

"That's Robin Stone... He's moving on"

-- from the title tune sung by Dionne Warwick.

Jacqueline Susann's page-turning trash tome about a sadistic, bed-hopping TV executive and the bimbos in his orbit gets the kitschy treatment it deserves in this 1971 camp classic. As produced by M. J. Frankovich (DOCTORS' WIVES), directed by Jack Haley Jr. (THAT'S ENTERTAINMENT), and with a cast that includes BLOW-UP stud David Hemmings as a mincing queen and comic Shecky Greene in his big screen debut, bad taste is the order of the day. We're talking eye-searing fashions, foul-mouthed bitchiness, crude behavior, and career-decimating performances served in heaping helpings. Bon Appetit, dreck devotees.

Showstopper scene: Bela Lugosi and the Collinson Twins (of Playboy and Twins of Evil fame) sharing a steamy, salacious moment. Unfortunately, poor Bela does not get to be the Lucky Pierre in a ménage à trois with the Maltese bloodsuckers. That honor goes to John Phillip Law (as horny uber-heel Robin Stone) who gets to play hide the Loofah massage sponge with Mary and Madeleine during a frolic in a shower. At the same time a clip from RETURN OF THE VAMPIRE plays on a living room TV, providing supposedly ironic counterpoint to the sexy rub-a-dub.

Now, that's entertainment (of a sort).

Though I've only seen it cut for television and therefore may not be able to judge fairly, The Love Machine is a pretty dull ride. The talented, attractive cast seems completely lost. Despite several steamy sex scenes, this suffers from the same problem as Valley of the Dolls--namely, diluting the subject matter of Jacqueline Susann's great novel. A lot of Jackie's most powerful material is either watered down or omitted completely, reducing the proceedings to shallow soap-opera level. The ending is entirely inconclusive. And, unlike Valley of the Dolls, there isn't even that much unintended humor to punch things up. Interestingly, the outrageously gay David Hemmings character is a combination of about three or four characters from the book!

Still, the production looks good, and Dionne Warwicke's renditions of "He's Moving On (Theme from The Love Machine)" and "Amanda's Theme" are beautiful. The rest of the soundtrack is good, too, if you enjoy psychedelic lounge music. I am the proud owner of the LP on Sceptor Records. Worth seeing for fans of Dyan Cannon, John Phillip Law, and moderately sensationalistic trash. It's a harmless diversion, but I still have to agree with Jackie Susann, who was very disappointed with the finished film. It really could've been great.

Well, where to start? I stumbled across this one in 1993 and just hit "record" on the VCR out of habit, more than anything else. "Citizen Kane" it sure isn't...but if you've had a bad day and are in the mood for crashing out in front of something not too intellectually stimulating, then I tentatively suggest this might just be your "thing".

We have the lot here - great title track, more stereotypes than you could shake a stick at, unconscious comedy, the bitchiest fight scene of all time and more, more, more! David Hemmings plays the diametric opposite of his role in the 60s classic "Blow Up" - still a photographer, still hormonally stimulated but not "quite" the same.

John Philip Law is easy to slam as an actor who makes a log appear unwooden but that wouldn;t be fair seeing as how he had about 5 minutes notice before accepting the role.

Wexler as "Amanda"? Suffice to say it was her one and ONLY film role! The real star of this movie, though, is Ethel Evans who plays a, shall we say secretary (?), with the morals of an alley cat and an ambition to match. The way she manages to reconcile her present life with that of a future with her comedian husband-to-be is actually quite touching in an earthy, gritty, what-is-to-be-will-be way.

I actually love this movie when I'm in the mood for it.......and wouldn't touch it with the proverbial bargepole when I'm not.

Kudos to the cast for keeping a (relatively) straight face when filming.

A "classic" in the Edward D Wood school of cinematic endeavours!