Must See Vintage Cinema: Valley of the Dolls

As I discover new blogs, they sometimes serve to inspire me to write entries of my own. Today's discovery-- The Tomb of the Unknown Fangirl-- was compelled to give a brief review of her recent read, Valley of the Dolls. Allow me to to elaborate on Miss Susann's ultra-fab-novel by explaining my love for the film version of the best-selling book. To say that Jacqueline Susann's Valley of the Dolls isn't the quintessential, much beloved, original meaning of FABULOUS, over-the-top 1960's novel & film, would be sacrilege to the legions of gay fans who have have made it their #1 all-time favorite in the unofficial Gay Cinema Hall of Fame. Everything from the wardrobe, make-up & hair to the countless back stories that involved practically everyone in Hollywood, including the queen of gay Hollywood icons, Miss Judy Garland is wrought with high drama. It's a pop-culture cinematic work of art that should be played on a continuous loop in The Smithsonian. It's been immortalized via stage plays in which the dialogue was recited virtually word-for-word from the original film script in a turn-up-the-camp-dial-style that has only served to further endear Ms. Susann and her writing in the heart of any red-blooded gay dude with a love & devotion to glamor, glamor & more glamor.

The beautiful girl factor-- which must be a psychological conundrum for any straight psychotherapist when analyzing interests of homosexual men-- is an element of the film which cannot go unnoticed. Patty Duke, here-to-fore the lovable & pretty girl(s) from her very own successful TV program, The Patty Duke Show, was transformed into a snarling beauty with a few dozen different hair falls, gallons of liquid eye liner, yards of false lashes and fabulous costumes by Travilla. Barbara Parkins, fresh from the 20th Century Fox back lot where she starred on the highly successful TV serial of the Grace Metallious novel and film of the same name, Peyton Place. Her dark, sophisticated vibe lent itself beautifully to a Wellesley-girl of the 1960's look. Patty's line as Neely O'Hara about Barbara's Anne Welle's "classy good looks" rang completely true. Perkins elegantly and effortlessy glided through the film like a debutant at a country club cotillion after a few Dubonette-on-the-rocks. Last but certainly not the least gorgeous, there's Miss Sharon Tate. Without a doubt one of the top 10 most gorgeous creatures that ever lived, Sharon's Jennifer North not only captured the text book 1960's look, she also evoked the future with her fashion-forward hair, make-up & costumes & realistic life perspective. Jennifer was the gal who knew the necessity of reinvention as a means of survival. Tragically, we all know how Sharon's real-life story ended. I refuse to go into much detail and further romanticize the maniacs that not only took her life, also that of her unborn child as well as several others and shook Hollywood's sense of personal safety forever.

The film begins with a still photo montage of Anne Welles' pre-doll, New England existance. A scrapbook of the life and events that compelled her to get out of Dodge. These sequences, filmed on location in Fairfield County, Connecticut and Westchester County, New York perfectly set the tone for the second portion of one of the best opening film sequences ever. Barbara Parkins as Anne Welles riding the train into New York City from her hometown of Lawrenceville as none-other than Dione Warwick sings the title song of the movie's soundtrack, known as the theme from Valley of the Dolls. Words and lyrics by Andre and Dory Previn, it's the anthem of the 60's as it schizophrenically asks as well as tells the audience what needs to happen in life:

"Gotta get off, gonna get have to get off from this ride-- Gotta get hold, gonna get need to get hold of my pride-- When did I get, where did I how was I caught in this game? When will I know, where will I, how will I think of my name? When did I stop feeling sure, feeling safe and start wondering why, wondering why? Is this a dream, am I here, where are you what's in back of the sky, why do we cry? Gotta get off, gonna get off of this merry-go-round-- Gotta get off, gonna get need to get on where I'm bound. When did I get, where did I why am I lost as a lamb? When will I know, where will I be, how will I learn who I am? Is this a dream, am I here, where are you? Tell me-- when will I know, how will I know when will I know why???"

The song not only embodies the 1960's confused psychedelic culture, but also its quickly emerging narcissistic tendencies of how the presumptuous world interrupted its most important and beautiful lives filled with free love, experimental drugs and for some, lots of Pucci clothes.

Arriving in New York, Anne checks into The Martha Washington Hotel for Women-- an actual place where men were only allowed to visit the lobby-- probably only during chaperoned hours. The dated and now bizarre concept must not even register in the minds of today's women under 30. Quickly landing a job in a top entertainment attorney's office, Anne was immediately assigned the task of taking contracts to battle ax client, Helen Lawson. One of Broadway's most beloved stars, Miss Lawson (played by the fabulous Susan Hayward) barks and smokes as she tears up the delivered contracts in protest of the younger and more energetically talented Neely O'Hara's existence in the show. Helen insists that Neely's songs be cut because, "The only hit that comes out of a Helen Lawson show is Helen Lawson, and that's ME, baby, remember?" The innumerable factoids and notable quotes from this film are actually listed in the International Movie Database and should be studied, memorized and used liberally in your every day speech. One of the many back stories involves both the casting and the apparent inspiration of certain roles. Judy Garland was originally cast in the Helen Lawson role which was allegedly inspired by Ethel Merman. Ms. Susann allegedly enjoyed a real-life, tumultuous lesbian affair with Merman and seized the opportunity to cast a less than positive light on the blatantly obvious (at least to Merman) ode to Ethel. Garland was canned early on in the production due to her typically less than professional behavior that she increasingly exhibited as she grew closer to the end of her life. Apparently the only film footage that exists of Garland on the Valley of the Dolls set is that of her extensive wardrobe tests. This must have been where Garland fell in love with the stunning Travilla threads worth thousands of dollars, as she kept them all when she left the back lot. Barbara Parkins has publicly lamented the firing of Judy Garland, saying that Miss Hayward was a pale imitation of what Garland could have made of the role. Sorry, Barbara-- as much as I adore Judy, Hayward is the only Helen Lawson I know. Unless it's a stage version with a female impersonator playing Susan-playing-Helen, she's the only Helen I want to know. The role of Neely O'Hara was apparently inspired by Miss Garland's life and her infamous pill-popping behavior that somehow did not diminish the performer's larger-than-life talent, but in the end, did diminish her short life.

The film progresses through the discovery of Anne's beauty which leads her to a lucrative career as the Gillian Girl. The celebrity representative of glamorous Gillian Cosmetics balanced her busy work schedule with her on-again, off-again love affair with Lyon Burke (her former employers' handsome playboy nephew) and an affair with the president of the cosmetics company. Whew-- she was a busy gal. Of course, the abuse of prescription drugs is the most common thread throughout the film. Perhaps this was Miss Susann's visionary warning decades ahead of her time and the emergence of life wrecking pills like OxyContin? Even staid & waspy Anne takes a spin on the Gelatin Capsule Carousel at the Psychotropic Carnival, but Neely is by far the top abuser. She utilizes pills prescribed by the studio doctor to calm her down, pep her up, go to sleep, wake up and spirit her through busy shooting days at the studio because she's told she must "Sparkle, Neely, SPARKLE"! Jennifer North (Sharon's character) parlays her show-girl good looks into a shadowy European art film career that helps fund her husband's expensive private convalescence. Tony Polar's mysterious, probably neurologicaly-related disorder halted his successful singing career and short-lived stint as a leading man in feature films. Tony's career was carefully micro-managed by his humorless sister Miriam, played by the previously blacklisted & beautiful Lee Grant. It wasn't until his illness reared its ugly head that Miriam was compelled to share the family secret with Jennifer as well as admitting his inevitable illness was her reason for her years of frugality-- to pay for Tony's future hospitalization. Unbelievably enough, not a single oxygen tent was used in the making of this film! Equally unbelievably, the simultaneously institutionalized Neely discovered that she and Tony were being warehoused in the very same sanitarium. Hospitalized for substance abuse-- not for a mystery illness like Tony-- their surprise meeting led to a bizarre, way-off-key duet in the patient lounge as they slurred a few bars of one of Tony's smash hits, Come Live With Me and Be My Love. If it seemed as though things couldn't get worse for poor, beautiful Jennifer with her now increasingly vegetative husband under lock & key, the discovery of a lump in her breast lead her to the conclusion that life wasn't worth living without both breasts. More than likely the decision was a result of her mother's negative comments, which often included her opinion that her daughter's breasts were really the only thing Jennifer had going for her. Again, heavy reliance on the doll factor was how Jennifer decided to permanently check-out of the Bel-Air Hotel. We're then treated to a stellar cameo performance by Miss Susann as one of the several reporters there to cover the tragic Hollywood suicide. Neely trashes her promising career--again and again, via prescription drug abuse and a vulgar disregard for the people and close friends who supported her on the way up the career ladder as well as on the way down. Anne leaves Malibu and her brief but successful career for the safety of Lawrenceville and vintage colonial home from which she emerged as the innocent, wool coat wearing good-girl from New England. The movie's ending sequence takes us down a snowy, country road in Connecticut as the (GASP!) fur wearing Anne picks up a tree branch and walks away to the film's fabulous theme song. To live in the quiet countryside, apparently, forever.

Valley of the Dolls was premiered on a yacht in the Mediterranean and oddly enough, panned by the book's author as a piece of shit. However that's where I disagree with one of my favorite authors. I've always thought the film was the ultimate tribute to the ultimate novel, which is still listed in The Guinness Book of World Records as one of the top ten best sellers of all time. You've got to climb Mt. Everest to reach The Valley of the Dolls! Here's to you, dear Jackie-- we all still adore you!

If you somehow haven't ever seen Valley, check out the trailer on Direct2Drive: http://www.direct2drive.com/138/3814/product/Buy-Valley-Of-The-Dolls-Download
The entire film can be purchased and viewed on Direct2Drive, as well as on DVD from 20th Century Fox:
http://www.foxclassics.com/synopsis.php?id=valleyofthedolls