The Betsy

Imagine a 1970's TV mini-series with added scenes of nudity and adult language and a somewhat bigger budget and the result is "The Betsy". Based on one of the gazillion cookie-cutter novels of Harold Robbins, the film looks and sounds just like a mini-series that slipped by the censors. Olivier (in the midst of one of his WORST periods for hammy overacting which also includes "The Boys From Brazil" and "The Jazz Singer") is a mega-rich automobile tycoon who has been ousted from his company to live in sedate luxury, albeit in a wheelchair. He follows the racing career of Jones closely and, after a nasty accident, convinces him to come and work for him in creating the third international car (after the Model T Ford and the Volkswagen.) This one is to be called The Betsy after his great-granddaughter Beller. Unfortunately, his nefarious grandson Duvall runs the company and doesn't want something as bothersome as a car to interfere with his profits from diversification into such products as dishwashers. This sets up a heated rivalry between Jones and Duvall. While this contemporary story plays out, Olivier flashes back to the 1930's when he was at his peak of power and he had his way with various women. Here, he contends with wimpy son Rudd and Rudd's lovely wife Ross who will one day give birth to Duvall. The stories play out alternately until the end when various connections detail how one tale is directly related to the other. The cast is fairly stellar for the most part, though few of the actors make any great impact. Olivier speaks in an inane and unexplained accent and overemotes ridiculously throughout. Fortunately, he's still rather entertaining nonetheless as his character gets several amusing things to say in the film. Jones is appealing and considerably more low-key than Olivier (anyone would be!) His fans will be surprised to see him in this traditional leading man type of role (and sporting an impressively chiseled torso.) Duvall (who, for some reason, appears shorter in this film than at any other point in his career!) nibbles his own share of the scenery as he tries to stay afloat in the melodramatics. Alexander retains her dignity as his neglected wife and Ross looks about as good as she ever did as his mother in the flashback scenes. A welcome dose of glamorous bitchery comes in the form of opportunistic and promiscuous Down. Her various high fashion costumes also bring occasional titters. Beller (the same chipmunk who would eventually land on "Dynasty" for a while in the '80's) is an acquired taste. Her Kewpie face and waist-length hair can annoy, yet her bare-everything swimming pool scene has earned her a few fans. She has one particularly ugly canary yellow dress which assaults the senses as well. Many other familiar actors pop in along the way including Swenson, Robert Guillaume's old sparring partner from "Benson". The title car seems a little goofy (people are supposed to drive around in a compact car that has Betsy emblazoned on the side?) and some of the dramatics seem pretty pointless. Maybe it was the time the film was made. The whole thing is a trashed-up precursor to "Dallas" and "Dynasty". There's even a stilted and tentatively presented homosexual relationship thrown into the mix. The sets, budget, costuming and cast elevate it to some degree and there are many unintentional laughs along the way. It is more than a little disconcerting, however, to see "Wuthering Heights" Heathcliff banging a French maid on his bed while his wife is downstairs carrying out a wedding reception for their son!

How can you make a bad movie with Olivier, Duvall, Tommy Lee, Katherine Ross, Jane Alexander, and plenty of other capable people?

Study this film to find out.

I felt awful for Olivier. First, let me say that I am a great fan of his, and have worn out my VCR watching him in Wuthering Heights, Rebecca, Spartacus, and other great performances. Having said that, I must now regretfully say that his performance in The Betsy ranks among the worst ever captured on film. He has no clue how to affect an American accent. Worse still, he plays himself in the flashbacks ... and he looks like an old guy on Miami Beach wearing youthful fashions and spray-on hair color. I had to turn away from it at times.

Oh, I wish I had never seen this movie at all.

If you have a choice between this and "Manos", plan on a Torgo evening.

I have always been curious as to how so many big name stars came to agree to appear in "The Betsy". Was Harold Robbins' name alone enough for them to believe they were starring in a hit? Perhaps they all were paid handsomely. I hope it's the latter. As you might expect with Harold Robbins' name on the title "The Betsy" is about sex and greed and sex and power and sex and murder and sex. This is pure trash all the way but if you don't take it seriously and catch yourself in a goofy mood then you might enjoy it.

The story is simple. A family headed by patriarch Laurence Olivier manufacture cars and become wealthy and powerful. That's all you really need to know. This family is one sick group. Take for example one scene early on in the movie. A boy (who would grow up to be Robert Duvall) witnesses his father committing suicide. He runs upstairs to be with his mom (Katherine Ross) only to find her in bed shagging grandpa Olivier. All in a matter of moments for this poor kid. And yet he still grows up and goes to work for Olivier. You can't take the story seriously for a second.

Also on hand are Tommy Lee Jones as a stud race car driver and the beautiful Lesley-Anne Down as his mistress who happens to be Duvall's wife. She is sexy and alluring and almost worth the price of admission. And then there is Duvall's granddaughter who seduces Jones on her 18th birthday. The Carrington family from "Dynasty" almost seem normal next to this clan.

Trash movie lovers unite. This is a film for you. It's somewhat of a guilty pleasure for me but I still sit there and shake my head at many scenes more then just enjoying the garbage being presented.

This is not the kind of movie you can recommend, but if you are in the mood for trash with a lot of glitter, this is the one for you. There are not many good adaptations from Harold Robbins novels, and this is not one of them. The all-star cast helps immensely but they might have brought a bit of fun to the proceedings, so we could think this wasn't torture for them to make.

I once read an interview in which Harold Robbins, the dirty old man of (so called) literature, revealed that his books were written to a strict formula of one sex scene every six pages and one business scene every twelve (or something like that). Well, this adaptation of one of his later (and lesser) novels seems to stick fairly rigidly to that formula, with hot-shot racing driver Tommy Lee Jones and crusty old car manufacturer Laurence Olivier taking turns to work their way through the female members of the cast – which is probably why Robert Duvall looks so out of sorts throughout the film as Larry's bitter grandson. Yes, this is that infamous film which has Sir Larry – clearly only in it for the money – with his trousers around his ankles as he tests out the suspension on a random hotel maid's chassis.

To be fair to the old thesp, he's by far the best thing about this trashy, but curiously compelling and enjoyable, soap. He seems to have watched every Frank Morgan film he could lay his hands on before revealing his convincing American accent to the camera, and it's a strange experience to see such a respected actor slumming it this way. A young Tommy Lee Jones was still trying to establish himself in movies when he landed this part, so you can't really blame him for accepting the lead role. Other names in the cast (Katharine Ross, Lesley Anne-Down, etc) were always second-rankers who were probably grateful for the exposure, but Robert Duvall is the real casting oddity in a role that is bland and one-dimensional.

The story pits him against Olivier and Jones as they attempt to design an economic production-line car that will transform the industry. Bob's more interested in selling dish washers and men's clothing to Filipinos, so he launches an undercover espionage plot that has a fairly predictable conclusion. There are few dramatic moments, and you could probably wander off for ten minutes to make a cup of tea and smoke a fag without losing the thread of the plot. Anyway, the story is secondary to the depiction of life amongst the ridiculously rich, and the ready availability of incredibly gorgeous women who disrobe for the flimsiest of reasons. It panders to that desire that lives within all of us to some degree to have the finest things in life, but also makes it clear (probably without meaning to) that such lives are essentially empty and meaningless, thus leaving us feeling just a little bit better about our modest lot in life.