MYRA BRECKINRIDGE —-congratulate yourself for stamina if you can make it through the 94 minutes of this legendary cowpie. All you’ve ever heard and read about it being one of the worst big studio movies ever made is true. Rest assured, it’s that bad.
A shameless, sickening, sloppy, stupid, horribly acted, fecally conceived, non-directed, endless squandering of $6,000,000, money that could have been used to send Raquel Welch back to acting class, sober up John Huston, bury Mae West, do something/anything about/to Rex Reed and buy ‘director’ Michael Sarne a one-way ticket to Saturn.
This is ‘about’ a man (Rex) transformed into a woman (Raq), who goes to Hollywood to take over an acting school. The movie defecates on America, on its cinematic ancestors, on the viewers curiosity, on everything it can touch. Don’t assume this is Fun Trash, either: the boredom staggers.
It took a lot of hard work to achieve this smut; ten scripts were written by director Sarne and David Giler out of Gore Vidal’s smug book before it was decided how best to present a scene of Rex Reed yanking wozz and Raquel Welch buggering Roger Herren while dressed in an American flag bikini. Thanks, folks, see you at the picnic.
Critics tore it to smithereens in 1970 and its paltry $8,500,000 take made for some panic among executives at Fox.
With Farrah Fawcett-Majors, Calvin Lockhart, John Carradine, Jim Backus, George Furth, Roger C. Carmel, Grady Sutton, Andy Devine, Skip Ward, Toni Basil, Dan Hedaya, William Hopper and a young Tom Selleck, 25, in his debut, playing “Stud”. Safe to say none of them knew what a steaming pile they were stepping into. Vidal later heard that The Ego Known as Director Sarne (immediately & forever banished from Hollywood) was working in a pizza joint. He commented that “proves that God exists and there is such a thing as Divine Symmetry.”