The Tina Louise Quartet

I admit it:  Tina Louise remains my all-time favorite actress.  That's a dangerous thing to admit.  Whenever you do, you find yourself subjected to comments from people who say "Mary Ann was always hotter" or something to that effect.  (I think it has made me an effective oral advocate, though.  You learn how to effectively build a case to convince people on any issue when you learn at an early age to advocate for Tina Louise as a versatile and talented actress instead of someone like, say, Vanessa Redgrave because people will lazily accept that as a given.)  I have always felt that there is a lot more to Tina Louise than "Gilligan's Island," even though I readily acknowledge that it remains her most famous acting credit from a visibility standpoint.  She really does have a mysterious and intriguing screen presence that goes beyond just her looks.  Her roles are more interesting and nuanced than she is given credit for--she has often played sad beauties who are trapped in unhappy lives.  (Whether she was attracted to these roles, or these roles sought her out, might be worth discussing in a much longer dissertation someday.)  I think that the versatile range of her speaking voice remains one of her most unique qualities.  The breathy and breathless Ginger Grant voice that she used on "Gilligan's Island" was merely an acting affectation.  In many of her other acting roles, she speaks with a deep and resonant voice that demonstrates gravitas and maturity.  She has an under-appreciated ability to manipulate her voice to sound like completely different people from project-to-project.  (Which is why Kristen Dalton's performance as Tina Louise in the 2001 CBS TV movie "Surviving Gilligan's Island" never seemed credible to me.  It was obvious upon first-viewing that Dalton never did her research: she performs the scenes where Tina Louise is off-stage and off-camera in the same breathy and breathless "Ginger" voice that Ms. Louise used on the series.  Dalton demonstrated, to me anyway, that she was a lazy actress who ignorantly assumed that that was indeed how Ms. Louise spoke in real life.)

One of the reasons why it is challenging to build the case for Tina Louise being an underrated actress is because her films, for many years, were difficult to get ahold of on DVD and rarely played on cable.  In addition, some of her best work were in TV movies and episodic guest appearances in the 1970s after "Gilligan's Island," when she made a conscious effort to try and challenge herself by taking character roles that went against her presumed image.  However, in recent years, because of the ever-expanding DVD and Blu-Ray market, which has allowed lesser-known titles in studio catalogues to finally gain the exposure they deserve, many of Ms. Louise's films are now available digitally. Olive Films, which has been releasing titles from the Paramount library, recently released on DVD and Blu-Ray two of Tina Louise's earliest films:  the noir-ish, modern-day western melodrama "The Trap" starring Richard Widmark, and the Michael Curtiz-directed western "The Hangman" starring Robert Taylor.  Both films were released in 1959, along with Andre de Toth's western "Day of the Outlaw" starring Robert Ryan.  Ms. Louise's 1959 trio of films came in the wake of her 1958 film debut in Anthony Mann's "God's Little Acre."  These four films comprise the most valiant attempts by Tina Louise to establish herself as a leading lady in Hollywood movies.  She lost some momentum in her movie career when she moved to Europe for several years and starred in historical potboilers and war movies, before returning to the United States to study with Lee Strasberg at New York's esteemed Actors Studio, and then taking on the role of Ginger Grant on TV's "Gilligan's Island."  As such, these four films are interesting to watch in order to assess the potential Louise demonstrated at this early stage of her career.

"God's Little Acre" (1958) is generally considered by many, including Ms. Louise herself, to be the best film she ever appeared in.  It was based on Erskine Caldwell's serio-comic novel about the efforts of a poor Georgia farmer (played by Robert Ryan) to locate gold buried on his land, and how his obsession threatens to destroy his family.  Ms. Louise played the lonely Griselda, married to Robert Ryan's son Jack Lord, who takes a submissive role in the family by remaining house-bound, cooking and cleaning, while the men are out digging up holes in the land to find the ever-elusive gold treasure.  The first time we see Griselda, she is bringing lemonade for the men to refresh themselves after digging ditches all day, wearing a simple summer dress and high heel shoes, bought for her by her previous lover Will Thompson (Aldo Ray) a frustrated cotton mill factory worker, that seems totally incongruous for wearing around the farm. Throughout the first half of the film, Ms. Louise lingers in the background in most of the family-oriented scenes, a reflection of Griselda's passive and submissive domestic role in the family.  It is in the second-half of the film, when Griselda succumbs to her longing for Will Thompson, and helps him to break into the shuttered factory so that he can turn it on one more time, that she finally finds her own voice and stands up to her husband in the final family confrontation staged on the outdoor porch of the family home.  Ms. Louise effective projects the shyness and sensitivity of this under-appreciated character.  She positively glows in the many transcendent close-ups that director Anthony Mann and cinematographer Ernest Haller (who shot "Gone with the Wind") photograph her in throughout the film.  At the end of the movie, after Robert Ryan decides to go back to farming and gives up looking for gold, Griselda is seen walking around the farm barefoot, which symbolizes how she has stopped longing for Will Thompson and living in town.  She has finally found purpose and contentment living on the farm.  As a result, she and husband Jack Lord are finally happy in their marriage.  When Robert Ryan finds a broken shovel while plowing the land with a mule, and decides to look for his grandfather's gold one more time, it is Griselda who takes the reigns of the mule and plows the land while Ryan continues to pursue his dreams.  Instead of being an ominous suggestion that the family is on the road to ruin again, Griselda's actions in ensuring that the land will be plowed indicates that farming will not be neglected again, and the family will stay the steady course. 

Tina Louise got good reviews from this promising debut and it looked as if her future on the big screen would be bright.  She signed a contract with Paramount and next appeared in "The Trap" (1959), playing another woman living in a rural community trapped in an unhappy marriage.  Ms. Louise played Linda Anderson, wife of sheriff's deputy Tippy Anderson (Earl Holliman) in the California desert community of Tula.  Linda's former sweetheart, now turned successful mob lawyer, Ralph Anderson (Richard Widmark), who also happens to be Tippy's older brother, returns to Tula in an effort to try and help mobster Victor Massonetti (Lee J. Cobb) flee the country.  Ralph wants his father (Carl Benton Reid), sheriff of Tula, to turn the other way when Massonetti attempts to flee the country via the nearby Tula airfield.  Things, of course, don't go according to plan in this Technicolor action melodrama that blends film noir and western elements.  Unlike her debut in "God's Little Acre," Ms. Louise's role in "The Trap" remains mostly thankless.  She is, in filmic terms, merely "The Girl" here.  But she has a few good scenes with Widmark, portraying regret and loneliness regarding the choices she has made in her life since he left town years ago; with Holliman, vulnerable as she pleads with him to understand her unhappiness; and with Cobb, effectively spewing venom as her character becomes more and more contemptuous towards this mobster whose casual attitude towards the deaths he has caused has revolted her.  One wishes the screenplay would allow Ms. Louise to play a more proactive role in the proceedings, especially in the fiery finale at the airstrip Cobb attempts to escape from, where the character of Linda is conspicuously absent.

Ms. Louise's next movie under her Paramount contract rectifies this situation.  "The Hangman" (1959), directed by Michael Curtiz, and with a screenplay credited to Dudley Nichols, allows her a meaty role as Selah Jennison, the widow of a soldier lost in battle with the Indians who has now been reduced to working at the Army post laundry.  Selah is approached by deputy Marshall Mackenzie Bovard (Robert Taylor) to accompany him to a western town in order to identify an old friend (Jack Lord again) who is suspected of being involved with a stagecoach holdup several years before.  Bovard offers Selah a $500 reward, enough money to allow her to start a new life, if she will help point out her old friend so he can be arrested and stand trial.  Selah accepts the offer reluctantly, but changes her mind once she sees her old friend again.  She decides she will not turn her friend in, and tries to thwart Bovard's efforts to arrest him, even going so far as to handcuff herself to the cantankerous Marshall.  With steady direction from the legendary Curtiz, who focuses on the tense adversarial relationship between Selah and Marshall Bovard, "The Hangman" is probably one of the best parts of Tina Louise's career.  She more than holds her own with Robert Taylor, and her mature demeanor helps make the 20 year age difference between Taylor and Ms. Louise appear much less awkward than it might have been with another actress.  Ms. Louise gets to play intense and emotional scenes that demonstrate what a controlled and heartfelt actress she can be.  Even though director Curtiz takes advantage of her beauty by including at least two bathing scenes, as well as shots that emphasize her legs, this never undercuts the intelligence of the character and of Ms. Louise's performance.  The development of the relationship between Bovard and Selah, starting from strained and adversarial, to tentatively trusting, to one of mutual respect and understanding, forms the heart of the movie and makes "The Hangman" an overlooked western worthy of rediscovery.  I never tire of watching her in it.

The last film in this early quartet, Andre de Toth's "Day of the Outlaw" (1959), has risen greatly in stature in recent years.  Its availability on DVD and airings on TCM has allowed film aficionados to recognize it as a heretofore overlooked western classic.  Ms. Louise plays Helen Crane, the unhappy wife of middle-aged farmer Hal Crane (Alan Marshall) who finds herself caught in a love triangle and feud involving her husband's arch rival Blaise Starrett (Robert Ryan) who also happens to be her illicit lover.  The rivalry between Crane and Starrett that has been simmering for months is interrupted by the arrival by a band of psychotic outlaws led by wounded renegade Army officer Jack Bruhn (Burl Ives) who is slowly dying from a gunshot wound.  Helen and the other women in this remote Wyoming community are eyed lasciviously by the lustful bandits.  Fear spreads through the remote town that, once Bruhn dies from his wounds, his men will go on a rampage and brutally rape the women.  The most memorable scene in the movie involves the tense "party" where the women helplessly dance with the men, who carelessly toss them around in their arms as if they were department store mannequins.  (You can see the scene on YouTube here.)  Director de Toth effectively conveys the claustrophobic nature of this party by shooting much of it on a stationary camera that turns around and around at a 360-degree angle.  The net result helps convey that, no matter where the women are, they are unable to escape from the clutches of the men holding them hostage.  Given the snowy nature of the movie's setting, it is appropriate that Ms. Louise gives a controlled and low-key performance.  There's a certain disconnected chilliness to her in this movie that stands in stark contrast to the warmer, more accessible and passionate performances given by her in the other films in this quartet, but I think that is by-design.  Her character Helen has already resigned herself to a life with a man she does not love, and resists any attempts by Robert Ryan's character to remind her of the love and passion they once felt for each other.  She has to remain calm and emotionless as possible, or else face the reality and gravity of how she has settled for second-best in her marriage.  Director de Toth highlights the stoicism of Ms. Louise's character by photographing her mostly in medium shots, which heightens the distance between her and the other characters (as well as the audience), and rarely employs close-ups to create a sense of intimacy or accessibility in Helen.  Of this early quartet of characters in Tina Louise's movie career, Helen Crane is the one who faces an unhappy and uncertain future. 

After these films, Tina Louise turned down roles in "Operation Petticoat" (1959) and "Li'l Abner (1959, where she would have reprised her role from the original Broadway musical) in an effort to stay focused on dramatic roles.  While I respect the logic behind her decision, I still wish she had done them so that she could have balanced serious parts with roles in blockbuster hits that would have helped to further establish her box office appeal.  (I once researched the shooting schedules for all the films she had released in 1959.  I learned that she shot them all in the 1958 calendar year.  She could have easily fit "Petticoat" and "Abner" into her schedule because neither of them started shooting until 1959, and were shot months apart from each other.  As a fan of her work, it is frustrating to realize that, logistically speaking, Tina Louise could have had a banner 1959 with major roles in five good films.)  Nevertheless, this demonstrated how Tina Louise danced to the beat of her own drum.  For all that has been written and said about her through the years, it's clear that she was never anyone's victim or Trilby--this was clearly a girl who did not spend her time trying to please everyone and knew how to take care of herself.  Even though her career had its ups and downs (which is the norm for any successful actor or actress who has worked for a long time), she outlasted many of her contemporaries and defied the stereotype of actresses who are considered "sex symbols" by never succumbing to the sort of tragic ending that others like Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield suffered.  Instead grouping her with Monroe and Mansfield, because of her New York stage and Actors Studio background, I tend to think of Tina Louise as cut more from the Lois Nettleton/Shirley Knight/Jessica Walter mold of attractive character actresses of the 1960s who played a variety of different kinds of roles in movies and television.  These days, Ms. Louise is better known as a literacy advocate who volunteers in the New York Public School system, helping young children learn how to read.  In so doing, by defying expectations, Tina Louise remains as independent and tenacious as ever.

RIP Deborah Raffin (1953-2012)

I was saddened to hear that actress/producer/audio book entrepreneur Deborah Raffin died this week of leukemia at age 59.  Even though she never quite rose to the level of a top box office star, she was a familiar face on both television and movie screens for almost four decades.  Raffin first came to the attention of moviegoers for her appearance in "The Dove" (1974) the bio-pic of Robin Lee Graham, a young man who made headlines when he sailed around the world alone.  She had previously appeared in the movie version of the Broadway hit "40 Carats" (1973) and later played the lead character in the movie adaptation of Jacqueline Susann's "Once is Not Enough" (1975).

But her career REALLY began when she starred in the 1976 ABC TV movie "Nightmare in Badham County."  Raffin and Lynne Moody played UCLA co-eds falsely imprisoned in a segregated women's prison where the inmates are used as slave labor to help support the economy of the nearby town.  While there, Raffin and Moody are terrorized by evil Southern prison guards Greer (Tina Louise) and Smitty (Lana Wood).  It remains, without a doubt, one of the most anti-Southern movies ever made.  When it was released as a theatrical feature film in 1980 in China, the Communist government tried to use it as anti-American propoganda.  Because it was the first American film shown in China in decades, it purportedly sold over 150 million tickets.  Raffin recalled that, while touring China years later, the Chinese people she encountered recognized her from that film and kept pointing at her saying "Nightmare!  Nightmare!"  She learned that, due to the success of "Nightmare in Badham County," she had since become a popular actress in China.  Many of her others films were also released there.  She even learned that a Chinese-language biography about her life had been written and published.  In the 1980s, long before it became the norm, Raffin was a visionary trailblazer when she became an unofficial cultural Ambassador between the United States and China by helping to establish relationships between producers and officials in both countries.  Through it all, she continued starring in TV miniseries such as "The Last Convertible" (1979), "Haywire” (1980), and "Noble House" (1988), as well as dozens of TV movies.  She also produced miniseries, TV movies, and the 1997 theatrical bio-pic of the life of Oscar Wilde starring Stephen Fry and Vanessa Redgrave.  Raffin even directed TV movies and episodic television.  

 
Probably Deborah Raffin's most important professional accomplishment was to help establish Dove Books on Tape, the preeminent producer of audiobooks starting from the 1980s.  As with her cultural connection with China, Raffin and her husband Michael Viner blazed a trail with the new concept and shrewdly used their show business connections to get their celebrity friends to voice these audiobooks, which helped make them bestsellers.  What I like the most about Raffin was that she was an actress who did it all.  Lots of actresses like to boast that they are producers, but Raffin did not just dabble in it.  She regularly produced projects that people saw and which enjoyed a certain level of visibility.  Despite her many accomplishments, Raffin always seemed down-to-earth and self-effacing in interviews.  She was that rarity in Hollywood—a good actress who also possessed a sound sense for the business aspects of show business, qualities which helped to ensure her a long and prolific career. 

They Called Her One-Armed Faye

A couple of years ago, Faye Dunaway went to Wales to make a modestly-budgeted horror film called "Flick" (2008).  In this very stylized and stylish film, Dunaway plays Lt. McKenzie, a persistent and perceptive police detective from Memphis, Tennessee assigned to work in a Welsh village on a police exchange program.  She investigates a series of murders committed by the recently revived corpse of a troubled Teddy Boy teen named Johnny who drowned in a car accident after being involved in a violent altercation at a dance back in 1960.  The revived, zombified Johnny is empowered whenever he hears period-era rockabilly music being broadcasted by a pirate radio station in town.  Johnny seeks revenge against the now-elderly youths who had picked on him at that dance nearly 48 years earlier.  In the process, he hopes to be reunited with Sally (Julia Foster), the girl of his dreams who is now unhappily married to the brute who was his rival for Sally's affections back in the day.  Dunaway, working in conjunction with a local area police detective (played by Mark Benton) races against time to prevent Johnny from carrying out his vendetta and finding Sally.

"Flick" remains a little-known movie in the United States.  It was never released theatrically, but is available on DVD in America.  It is hard to understand why the movie hasn't found a wider audience, because there is much to enjoy about it.  Writer/Director David Howard embues the movie with colorful, striking images and camera angles that evoke a strong sense of 1950s nostalgia.  There are interesting bridging sequences where action is depicted on-screen by vividly detailed comic book panel images.  A wistful sense of regret permeates the film, as characters such as Johnny and Sally and all of their allies and enemies from 1960 find their fates sealed in an existence they created for themselves at the dancehall over 48 years before.  1960s British starlet Julia Foster is touching as Sally, a woman married to a man who neglects and mistreats her and their daughter, while still the object of desire of Johnny, a zombie who still cares about her decades later.  Foster, who appeared in "The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner" (1962), "Alfie" (1966), and "Half a Sixpence" (1968), made a welcome return to the cinema after having taken time off from her career to raise a family.  One of the most unique and effective features of the film are Johnny's POV shots when he confronts characters from the past.  From his vantage point, he still sees them in their youthful personas rather than their middle-aged selves as they are now.  It helps underscore how these characters remain haunted by their pasts.

What prevents the movie from becoming too heavy-handed and downbeat is Faye Dunaway's delightful performance as Lt. McKenzie.  Even though she no longer receives the high-profile film offers that she still richly deserves, Dunaway remains an interesting and prolific actress in independent productions and made-for-TV movies.  Lt. McKenzie is, without a doubt, the best part she has had in years.  Unlike other mature actresses cast in horror films later in their careers, Dunaway has neither a thankless nor unflattering role in "Flick."  McKenzie is a quirky and offbeat character, exemplified by her prosthetic right arm, but Dunaway makes sure never to allow that to turn McKenzie into a grotesque.  The prosthetic right arm merely reflects McKenzie's tenacious nature and ability to overcome all obstacles, while at the same time indicates, like Johnny and Sally, McKenzie still lives with the long-term effects of the events from her youth.  Dunaway brings heart and humor to "Flick" with her vibrant presence.  She maintains just the right level of enthusiasm and never allows the character to veer into camp.  In her skillful hands, McKenzie is wise, witty, brave, heroic, compassionate, romantic.  The role allows her to tap into her seldom-acknowledged ability to skillfully portray warm, sympathetic and vulnerable characters.

Dunaway has great chemistry with Mark Benton, who plays the Welsh police detective assigned as her partner.  Dunaway draws upon her real-life Southern roots and speaks with a Southern accent that reflects earthy practicality and intelligence.  She contrasts beautifully with Benton's burly Welsh charm.  I would love to see Dunaway and Benton revive these characters for a police procedural TV series.  My favorite scene in the movie is where Dunaway and Benton come upon an Southwestern American-themed diner in the Welsh village.  While they dine, Benton asks Dunaway what happened to her arm.  Dunaway responds with a touching monologue about losing her arm in a childhood accident and the subsequent ostracism she endured from her classmates...a story that parallels the ostracism Johnny faced from the other kids in his village.  She recounts a fanciful story of how Elvis Presley took the one-armed girl to the Prom, an event that gave Lt. McKenzie a strong sense of self-confidence that has stood her well in her law enforcement career.  Dunaway and Benton subsequently slow-dance to the jukebox, and we suddenly realize that this unlikely pair are perfectly matched with each other.  It's one of the most romantic moments in Dunaway's career. 

The Underrated Bond Girl

With the imminent release of "Skyfall" in the United States, the media has once again turned its attention to all things James Bond.  There are lists in magazines and online publications listing the "Top 10" Bond Girls.  Some of the choices have been ludicrous.  (The crass Jill St. John as Tiffany Case in "Diamonds are Forever"?  The narcissistic Halle Berry as Jinx Johnson in "Die Another Day"?  Please.)  And we are once again subjected to heavy-handed discussions regarding whether it is politically correct to refer to these characters as "Bond Girls" anymore.  (Respectfully, the term "Bond Women," because it adds an extra syllable, just doesn't have the same, snappy ring to it.)  However, there's one Bond Girl whose performance is always moving, who rarely gets mentioned in any discussions of the series, but whose performance deserves recognition.  It's Priscilla Barnes as Felix Leiter's wife, Della Churchill, in 1989's "Licence to Kill."

Della Churchill is introduced at the beginning of the movie waiting at the church for her fiance Felix Leiter, and his best friend/best man James Bond, to arrive at the wedding.  Leiter and Bond parachute down to the proceedings after having nabbed South American drug kingpin Sanchez (Robert Davi) moments earlier.  After Sanchez escapes from custody later in the day, his minions descend upon Leiter's house.  Leiter is tortured in the process and Della is killed.  This chain of events sets in motion the plot of the film, as Bond seeks out Sanchez for revenge in retaliation for what happened to Leiter and Della.

Unlike other women in the series, Della Churchill is not a spy or assassin, not the mistress or ally of some maniacal villain, nor someone with any sort of fantastical or exotic background.  She's an American civilian who comes from a presumably "normal," background.  It's her marriage to Felix Leiter, and his friendship to Bond, that puts Della in the center of a deadly plot beyond her experiences.  Della is one of the few women in the Bond series who has a mostly non-romantic, healthy relationship with Bond.  Even though Bond is seen, immediately after the opening credits, affectionately kissing Della by the wedding cake, it's more a sign of friendship and camaraderie, with only a subtle undercurrent of sexual attraction.  Bond and Della could have been interested in each other under different circumstances, but it's clear both have too much regard for Felix to ever act on that attraction.  The playful moment later on, when Della tosses Bond the garter belt under her wedding dress confirms that, despite mild romantic interest in Bond, she unselfishly hopes to see him someday in contented wedded bliss.

Despite only appearing in the first 25 minutes of "Licence to Kill," Della's fate resonates throughout the movie in more ways than one.  Bond scholars usually write that Bond is motivated to seek revenge against Sanchez because of the maiming of his "best friend" Leiter, but that never really comes across in the movie.  This is due to the fact that Leiter was constantly recast throughout the Bond series with various actors, as well as the fact that David Hedison (a fine, accomplished actor who previously appeared as Leiter opposite Roger Moore in 1973's "Live and Let Die") simply has no chemistry with Timothy Dalton's Bond.  It's hard to imagine them ever working together on a mission, much less becoming friends.  It might have been better for the film had the filmmakers brought back John Terry, who played Leiter in the previous Bond movie, "The Living Daylights" (1987) rather than Hedison.  Terry looks like he could be friends with Dalton and would have been more convincing had he been paired opposite Barnes.

I have always felt that it is Della's death, rather than Leiter's maiming, by Sanchez's assassins that is the true motivation behind Bond's vendetta against the ruthless drug lord.  The screenplay strongly suggests this when Leiter explains to Della, after Bond reacts sadly to Della tossing him the garter belt, that Bond was once married "a long time ago."  This is a direct reference to the death of his only wife Tracy (Diana Rigg) at the end of 1969's "On Her Majesty's Secret Service."  Witnessing the death of yet another bride on her wedding day has stirred up feelings of grief and rage in Bond regarding Tracy's death.  He goes after Sanchez not just to avenge Della's murder, but also to bring closure to the guilt he still feels over his inability to protect his own wife years earlier.  

Della Churchill ranks among the notable women in the James Bond series whose deaths appear to have affected Bond.  Bond appears truly heartbroken when he finds Della's corpse.  In addition to the aforementioned Tracy, this includes Jill Masterson (Shirley Eaton) in "Goldfinger" (1964), Japanese spy Aki (Akiko Wakabayashi) in "You Only Live Twice" (1967), Countess Lisl (Cassandra Harris) in "For Your Eyes Only" (1981), Paris Carver (Teri Hatcher) in "Tomorrow Never Dies" (1997), Elektra King (Sophie Marceau) in "The World is Not Enough" (1999), and Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) in "Casino Royale" (2006).  Bond is simply not indifferent to her death the way he is with Paula (Martine Beswick) in "Thunderball" (1965), Plenty O'Toole (Lana Wood) in "Diamonds are Forever" (1971), Rosie Carver (Gloria Hendry) in "Live and Let Die" (1973) or Andrea Anders (Maud Adams) in "The Man with the Golden Gun" (1974).  This is due in no small part to Priscilla Barnes's warm and sympathetic performance as Della.  Even though she has only about a dozen scenes in the movie, Barnes makes the most of her limited screentime.  She makes Della effervescent, humorous, human.  (Barnes would have been more ideally cast as leading lady Stacey Sutton in 1985's "A View to a Kill" instead of Tanya Roberts.)  Barnes also walks away with the female acting honors in "Licence to Kill."  In contrast, leading lady Carey Lowell is simply too young, whiney, and inexperienced to convince us that she's a former Army pilot now working for the CIA.  Lowell later became a better actress starring on TV's "Law & Order," but at this point she is simply unable to make the most of what is one of the better-written leading lady roles in the entire Bond series.  And Barnes is still far better than second-female lead Talisa Soto, who is stiff and somnambulistic playing Sanchez's abused mistress.  The less said about Soto the better.  Barnes makes a stronger impression with a shorter part than either of her female colleagues on "Licence to Kill." 

Priscilla Barnes is the rare actress in the entire James Bond series with an accomplished career both before and after Bond and is not remembered exclusively for her Bond Girl role.  She did not end up being typecast from Bond and has matured into earthy and unglamorous character roles playing mothers, mentally disturbed characters, religious fanatics, killers, nuns, mentoring race track mechanics, and other gritty/quirky parts that most other actresses who have appeared in Bond movies could only aspire to.  (She was superb playing Hillary Clinton in the play "Hillary Agonistes" which I saw at New York's Fringe Festival in 2007.)  Barnes is still remembered for her three-year tenure on the hit sitcom "Three's Company" from 1981 to 1984.  She even starred opposite previous Bond actor Roger Moore himself in the 1980 comedy "Sunday Lovers."  (Her skillful and lively comedic performance in that film opposite Moore lends credence to the notion she would've been more ideal than Tanya Roberts in "A View to a Kill.")  After "Licence to Kill," Barnes continued to forge an interesting and eclectic career, working in a variety of films including the Sean Penn-directed "The Crossing Guard" (1995) opposite Jack Nicholson, Kevin Smith's "Mallrats" (1995), and Rob Zombie's horror masterpiece "The Devil's Rejects" (2005).  In the latter film, Barnes again touchingly brings humanity and depth to another character who suffers a horrible death at the hands of ruthless killers, just as she did 16 years earlier playing Della Churchill in "Licence to Kill." 

The Voluptuous Beauty of Karen Black

Karen Black's 1986 ad that appeared in "Variety" touting the four films she had made that year

I found this interview on YouTube where Karen Black appears to be at some sort of motion picture-oriented trade show in Las Vegas, c. 1990, and is being interviewed by a local TV station.  The guy interviewing her has a sincere, likeable quality and gets a warm, relaxed interview out of Black.  She discusses a movie she just finished called "Tuesday Never Comes," which you can find here on YouTube.  I've seen it and, unfortunately, despite Ms. Black's professionalism and complete commitment to the part, it's terrible.  But when Black discusses it, compliments the film and the director, and gives indication that she's pleased with her role (as a drug addicted singer connected to the mob who gets raped and ultimately killed) she comes across as so genuine and sincere, you ultimately believe that she believes in the movie.  It reminds me of a wonderful documentary about Karen Black made in the late 1990s called "Karen Black: Actress at Work."

In the documentary, Black is depicted in the course of about a year working continuously in one low-budget movie after another.  She approaches each production, which are all far cries from the quality of films she was working on in her 1970s heyday, with the same level of enthusiasm as if she were still working with Robert Altman, Alfred Hitchcock, and Jack Nicholson.  There is never a "This is not good enough for me" attitude that you sometimes get with other actresses.  At the same time, in the documentary, you never get the feeling that Black has deluded herself into believing that these films are of a higher quality than what they are.  The beauty of the documentary and, ultimately, of Karen Black, is that she proves herself to be the consummate professional.  It's clear that she enjoys acting and doesn't denigrate the material she has been given, even if it is obvious that she deserves much better than what she is getting.

Karen Black as country singer Connie White in Robert Altman's "Nashville" (1975)

In the 1980s, Black's career went in an unexpected direction.  After making some of the finest American films in the 1970s, Black found herself in a position where she was cast in many low-budget films that frequently went straight-to-video.  There were dozens and dozens of these movies.  I saw as many of them as I could because I was fascinated at her unwavering professionalism under challenging circumstances.  She appeared in action films such as 1987's "Hostage"; a period comedy drama set after WWII co-starring Hoyt Axton and Tina Louise called "Dixie Lanes" (1988); a TV miniseries for Italian television about the life of Ernest Hemingway; a couple of silly comedies such as "Club Fed" (1990) with Judy Landers and the self-explanatory "The Invisible Kid" (1988), and several horror films (too numerous to list here).  As someone who greatly admired Black's career, I liked how she never stopped working in films.  Nevertheless, I still hoped that she would be able to bounce back and return to the quality of work she once enjoyed.

Black sings her own composition "I Don't Know if I Found it in You" in "Nashville" (1975)

In the mid-1990s, Black's career took a significant turn for the better.  She started working with young, ambitious filmmakers who admired her 1970s filmwork and wanted to have her contribute in a substantial manner to their debut features.  Even though the films were still low-budget, the roles she was offered improved because she was again working with directors who had vision and ambition.  Many of these movies mainly played at film festivals or on cable and art-house venues, but at least she no longer had to do films with titles like "Auntie Lee's Meat Pies" (1993) to make a living.  She was ultimately rewarded with a wonderful dual role in "Firecracker" (2005), a noir-ish drama about the troubled denizens of a small Kansas town, which was probably her best role since working with Robert Altman in "Come Back to the 5 and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean."  It was heartening to see her play a great role in a great film again.

Despite its ups and downs, I think Karen Black has had one of the most rewarding film careers in the history of cinema.  Even during that period in the 1980s when she was being cast in exploitation fare, the variety and kinds of roles she was being offered were still the sorts of parts that would only be offered to a talented actress.  In the South African action film, "Hostage," Black played a soft-core porn actress who is on an airline flight hijacked by terrorists.  She befriends the ill little boy on the flight and even agrees to sleep with one of the terrorists in exchange for the boy's freedom.  Black later has a nicely-written and beautifully acted monologue where she explains to the little boy's mother that she once acted as a surrogate mother for her childless sister and her husband so that they could have a baby of their own.  She was grieving over the fact that her sister, brother-in-law, and the boy that she gave birth to had recently died, and this motivated her decision to help the sick child on the flight as a way to make amends for the son she never got to know.  It's a scene that could have been maudlin, but Black evoked real feeling and depth in order to make you believe in this character.  Black's talent and professionalism in this instance confirms that there are no small parts, just small actors. 

Logic and Emotion Working in Tamden in a "Quest for Love" (1971)

Joan Collins is an actress whose very name conjures up images of glamour, flamboyance, and camp.  She is still best remembered for playing Alexis Carrington on the 1980s prime time soap "Dynasty."  I was never a fan of that series and was put-off by Collins's gaudy appearance and performance on that show.  It just wasn't my cup of tea.  However, through the years, I have found that I appreciate Collins's extensive work as a film actress in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s.  She actually had a long and interesting career before she hit the stratosphere of celebrity with "Dynasty."  As a contract player with 20th Century-Fox in the 1950s, she had a classy, earthy quality in most of her roles there that belied the larger-than-life image she'd later project.  After she had taken time off to start a family, she did some interesting work as an episodic TV guest actress on shows like "Star Trek," "Batman," "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." and "Mission: Impossible."  She was also an enjoyable presence in horror/suspense films in the 1970s--"Empire of the Ants" (1977) remains a guilty pleasure of mine.  In short, I have always admired the longevity and survival of Collins's career.  But she probably gave her best performance in the little-seen British science-fiction romantic fantasy "Quest for Love" (1971).

Tom Bell plays a physicist who, after a botched scientific experiment, finds himself in an alternate reality where WWII and the Vietnam War never occurred, John F. Kennedy never became President of the United States, and Man never conquered space.  In this alternate reality, he is a philandering playwright, and not the ethical scientist that he knows himself to be.  Bell's character meets the beautiful wife married to his counterpart in this alternate reality, the vulnerable and sensitive Otillie (played by Collins) and immediately falls in love with her.  Collins's character, however, is wary of Bell's explanations that he has come from an alternate world and believes that he is merely playing tricks to try and hurt her again.  Bell's character eventually convinces Collins he is telling the truth, and the two fall in love.  However, Collins is dying from a heart condition that the cure for has not been discovered in this alternate reality (but which exists in the proper reality Bell came from).  When Collins tragically dies in Bell's arms from her ailment, she urges him to find her alternate self in the reality he originated from.  When Bell returns to his own alternate reality, he races against time to find Collins's counterpart (who is an airline flight attendant unaware of her heart ailment) before he loses her again permanently.

I know the plot description I just gave you sounds confusing, but once you watch the movie it is very easy to follow.  What helps is the fact that director Ralph Thomas and screenwriter Terence Feely focus less on the fantasy elements of the story and more on convincingly developing the relationship and genuine love between Tom Bell and Joan Collins's characters.  Bell projects a sympathetic "everyman" quality that is easy to identify with.  He is a scientist, but one that is able to balance emotion with logic in order to be a fully developed human being.  It is ironic how Tom Bell's character in the other alternate reality, the playwright, has built a career less on logic and data, and more on emotion and drama, and yet (from what we hear of his insensitivity and cruelty from Collins and other characters) has no kindness, sensitivity or understanding of human needs and feelings compared to the Bell character who is a scientist, and yet has tremendous caring and compassion.  It's also interesting how the screenplay implies that, without WWII having occurred, great strides in the development of science and medicine would not have taken place, and that Bell's character would have become a self-indulgent, selfish artistic philistine, rather than a man of science both advanced emotionally and intellectually.  The movie implies that science and logic go hand in hand with emotion and feeling to create and maintain romance and love.  (Got all that?)

But what makes "Quest for Love" truly special is the radiant performance by a superb Joan Collins, who has simply never been better.  She is low-key and subtle throughout the film, her usually shrill and hard-edged delivery is replaced by a soft, almost whispery voice that reflects Otillie's sadness and vulnerability.  Collins has been likeable and earthy in many roles throughout her career, but rarely has she ever been called upon to be this sweet and sympathetic.  Her greatest triumph is that Collins never becomes boring or saccharine playing such a kind character--she makes Otillie interesting without any over-the-top gestures.  Collins looks absolutely beautiful throughout the film, clothed in tastefully glamorous gowns designed by the esteemed British costume designer Emma Porteous that have not dated in 40 years and would still look fashionable today.  It's hard to believe that this is the same actress who wore appallingly repulsive,  over-designed Nolan Miller gowns week-after-week on "Dynasty."  When Collins urges Bell to find her in the alternate reality, the scene has tremendous emotional impact.  In a subtle example of "less is more," Collins effectively conveys the happiness, mixed with sadness, of her character just as she dies at the moment she has finally found love and happiness in her life.  Other actresses, even Collins later on during her "Dynasty" years, might have played that death scene with overwrought emotion, but here she hits a home run by perceptively playing the scene low-key.  She lets her beautiful eyes and vulnerable voice do the work here.  Despite having a long and interesting career, Collins rarely had a role as good as this one.  It is a shame that "Quest for Love" has not become more widely known through the years.  Despite it's fantasy/science-fiction elements, it's one of the most intelligently romantic movies I've seen in recent memory.  It should have had a higher-profile release so that Joan Collins could have been considered for the kinds of accolades and awards a performance of this caliber richly warrants.  A film of this quality simply deserves better.

The Hypocrisy and Elitism of "Knots Landing"

Being a kid of the 1980s, I was a big fan of all the Lorimar prime time soaps: "Dallas," "Falcon Crest," "Flamingo Road" (starring the sublime Cristina Raines), and "Knots Landing."  I loved them all equally, but at the end of the day I still acknowledge "Dallas" as the King of the Hill.  In recent years, "Knots Landing" started to be touted as the best of the prime time soaps due to its purported emphasis on so-called "middle class" characters that better reflected the perspective of most Americans than the epic, larger-than-life "Dallas."  I used to believe that party line myself, until I became older and watched "Dallas" on DVD and realized that "Knots Landing" wasn't any better than "Dallas" in terms of its writing, acting, and directing.  Despite its middle class airs, "Knots Landing" was actually snootier and elitist about itself.  The show heavy-handedly seemed to believe that it was better simply because it was set in a Los Angeles cul-de-sac rather than the epic Southfork Ranch.  (Check out the contemptuous manner in which the characters of "Knots Landing" in its early seasons speak about the Ewings of "Dallas" and you can sense the show, and its characters, demonstrating a level of insecurity about themselves.)

Most of the original cast, before the show tried to keep up with the Joneses and glamorized itself to death

The "middle class" party line that its creators and stars like to emphasize really only applied to the first four seasons of "Knots Landing."  I acknowledge that the 1979-1983 seasons of the show are sublime in how it examined the foibles of modern marriage and middle class angst in a way that was unique and humane.  The shallow and misogynist "Desperate Housewives" never came close to tapping into the reservoirs of emotion that those first four years did.  During that time, "Knots Landing" truly was about middle class suburbanites and this was reflected in the fact that Donna Mills's vixenish and scheming Abby Cunningham was more a neighborhood troublemaker than the high-powered mogul she later became.  The argument that the show was more "realistic" and "down-to-earth" really applied during those first four years.  (Even then, it should be noted that the show was clearly about the UPPER middle class, who could afford a nice home on a cul-de-sac and were working as attorneys, music producers, and owned car dealerships.  There was a comfortable lifestyle depicted in those early years that was still alien to many working class viewers, who struggled to make ends meet with their low-paying jobs.)

JR visits Knots Landing in a "special guest villain" appearance

During this time when it was comparatively more grounded in reality, "Knots Landing" was a show that was doing moderately in the ratings.  It was dwarfed by the success of "Dallas" because viewers at that time probably didn't find anything particularly exciting about "Knots" compared to the epic storytelling of "Dallas."  It was only in the 5th season, when the show introduced William Devane's mysterious and powerful Greg Sumner, and the show started moving away from depicting the mundane aspects of suburbia by focusing on stories about corporate intrigue and organized crime, that "Knots Landing" started becoming more of a ratings winner.  Characters like John Pleshette's troubled and mercurial attorney Richard Avery (he deserved an Emmy for that role), and the newlywed couple Kenny and Ginger Ward (James Houghton and Kim Lankford), who were key to establishing the community suburban atmosphere in Seaview Circle, were phased out during this time as the show moved further away from scenes depicting curbside conversation and more towards boardroom boredom.  Even though I liked Devane's work on "Knots Landing" and feel that he created a compelling character, at times there was far too much of him on the series for my liking.  Sometimes "Knots Landing" felt like it had become "The William Devane Hour."  (I once met John Pleshette in a bookstore in Los Angeles and complained about this direction to "Knots Landing."  He seemed to acknowledge this and joked that the show became "Dallas in California" by the time he left.) 

Scene from the pilot episode, before the glamorous clothes and the facelifts ruined everything...

"Dallas" did a good job of maintaining our interest with its corporate intrigue storylines because there was an emotional basis for them.  JR was constantly trying to build Ewing Oil into being bigger and more powerful than what his daddy Jock Ewing had created in an effort to try to win his father's approval and love.  Bobby got involved with Ewing Oil at his wife Pam's encouragement, at least in the beginning, in order to move away from being the company's "pimp" and become a man of substance and character.  I never felt there was the same motivation on "Knots Landing" for its characters to become involved in such larger-than-life corporate storylines.  Abby Cunningham simply wanted to be richer and more powerful.  I know I'm simplifying matters by stating that, but that's all there was to it.  (Even "Falcon Crest" did a better job with these sorts of business-oriented storylines, due to Angela Channing's determination to carry on her grandfather's legacy with the winery he created.  There was never such a legacy with the characters of "Knots Landing" to warrant its emphasis on such stories.)

Donna Mills ponders how she can drag her show in an upscale direction in this scene from the second season.

As much as I like her, Donna Mills is one of the leading and most egregious perpetrators in the ongoing hypocrisy of "Knots Landing."  She has boasted in interviews as to how she urged the writers in the early seasons to make Abby richer and more powerful, like JR on "Dallas" was.  She has talked about how she urged the producers to shell out for a better wardrobe for the female cast members in the 3rd or 4th seasons because people want to watch escapism when they watch television.  These days, because depictions of wealthy characters are less politically correct, you'll find Mills contradicting herself and claiming that "Knots Landing" was unique because it was about "us" (the middle class) rather than "them" (the wealthy and powerful).  This is blatant hypocrisy since Mills was the leading proponent in the early seasons of "Knots Landing" to urge the producers to move away from the suburban milieu in favor of something more glamorous.

When the show was truly "middle class," albeit "upper"

Even now, the ongoing elitism of "Knots Landing" persists.  These days, when the cast of "Knots" is interviewed and asked if there is a chance that it could be revived the way TNT has revived "Dallas," they usually say that "Dallas" was more likely to be revived because there will always be an on-going interest in the so-called "1%" of society, whereas "Knots Landing" was less lauded on an international basis because it was purportedly more "believable" and "intimate."  That's a load of hogwash.  I direct your attention to the 5th season storyline about the Wolfbridge Group organized crime syndicate, the 6th Season storyline involving Val's Babies (and its entanglement with the introduction of Howard Duff's powerful Paul Galveston), and the 7th Season storyline involving Empire Valley (which involved the building of an underground espionage communications headquarters) to refute these claims that the show was more grounded in "reality."

"Hi...I'm here to take over your show..."

The truth of the matter is that "Knots Landing," for all its good qualities, simply was never as popular as "Dallas," which is why it is less likely to be revived on TNT the way "Dallas" has.  "Dallas" featured amazing characters whose popularity and appeal crossed over on an international basis--and it never tried to pretend to be something that it wasn't.  "Knots Landing" had more of a "niche" appeal and, as with anything that attracts a "niche" audience, a ridiculous form of reverse-snobbery developed with "Knots Landing" against "Dallas."  "Knots Landing," and its personnel and constituents, repeatedly tout its purported superiority to "Dallas."  They constantly compare themselves to "Dallas" rather than try to stand on their own.  The irony is, "Knots Landing" tries too hard to build a legacy for itself when the reality is, if there's a legacy to be built for "Knots Landing," others will build it for them.  "Knots" and its personnel would not have to do it for themselves if it were real.  (The lukewarm ratings that greeted the 2005 2-hour CBS Reunion special "Knots Landing: Together Again," as well as the lackluster sales for the Season 1 and 2 DVDs, bear this out.)

The underrated and underutilized Larry Riley and Lynne Moody, who were often short-shrifted in terms of screen time on "Knots Landing"

For all of its airs, "Knots Landing" was still mostly a show about financially secure Caucasians.  Its only ethnically diverse characters, the African American Williams family (played by the talented Larry Riley, Lynne Moody, and Kent Masters King) who joined the show in 1988, were often relegated to the sidelines and rarely had any stories of substance.  Nevertheless, "Knots Landing" patted themselves on their backs for introducing the Williams family, as if they had done them a favor, but in the end never did much to substantially utilize them.  Their characters were introduced as being in the witness protection program and, unfortunately, that was about it.  They were primarily written as a plot device in terms of how they related to the other characters on the show, but the writers never allowed them to stand on their own as significant characters.  It was a waste of the talents of these actors.  (For the record, I am the last person in the world who believes that television needs to be politically correct or ethnically diverse, but if you're going to continue patting yourself on the back for your much-vaunted realism, you should be called out on it.)  As someone who grew up in Southern California in a neighborhood that was populated by a combination of Caucasian, African American, Hispanic, and Asian American households, "Knots Landing" seemed hardly "realistic."

A realistic show about "middle class America"?...um, really?

I find it annoying that "Knots Landing" fans narcissistically speculate as to whether any of its characters, besides Gary and Val, will turn up on TNT's new "Dallas."  There are too many characters from "Dallas's" rich history, such as Donna Krebbs (Susan Howard), Katharine Wentworth (Morgan Brittany), and Holly Harwood (Lois Chiles), who I'd rather see brought back before we even speculate as to whether they'll incorporate any "Knots" characters.  I also wish "Knots" personnel and constituents would stop citing the fact that it was originally created before "Dallas" was created.  At the end of the day, "So what?"  It appears to be another tactic in an increasingly futile and desperate effort to establish the purported supremacy of a show that does not even generate enough DVD sales for Warner Brothers to even consider releasing further seasons of the show on its DVD-on-Demand mail order service, Warner Archive.  While it's true that CBS asked creator David Jacobs, when he first proposed "Knots Landing" to them, to come up with another prime time soap that was more epic in-scope, and he came up with "Dallas," the fact remains that CBS only became interested in actually putting "Knots Landing" on the air when "Dallas" became a runaway hit, and only then if Jacobs could somehow make it a spin-off of "Dallas."  It doesn't matter what was conceived first:  "Knots Landing" still needed "Dallas" to get on the air.  At the end of the day, in more ways than one, "Knots Landing," in order to be relevant, remains dependent on "Dallas" more than "Dallas" ever needed "Knots Landing."