Review of The Boy Friend (1971) by Christopher S — 12 Nov 2011

I confess, I'm not predisposed to fall in love with a movie star fittingly ascribed the moniker Twiggy. But in "The Boy Friend" Ken Russell's winking homage to Busby Berkley, she is the perfect image of a classic movie heroine, with her willowy frame and her big sad eyes. Her character, a put-upon assistant at a London theater, is roped into the starring role when the actress in that part sprains an ankle just before the big premiere. While the far more flamboyant supporting players enact ploy after conspicuous ploy to feed her her lines, this gangly wallflower stumbles endearingly from scene to scene, only blossoming into a lively presence when paired with her toothsome costar, whom she loves.

Sheesh, I ought to write bodice-rippers, oughtn't I?

As Twiggy swoons in the arms of her leading man, Russell launches with abandon into his big set pieces, each one chock-full of his characteristic weirdness. Like the bowling Valkyries of "The Big Lebowski", these take the odd energy of Berkley's musicals an dial it up to 11. Some highlights: the company dances on a giant phonograph, shrink down to fairy size and perform in a mushroom village, and splash about on stage in an energetic beach scene.

I fear I'm turning into Bosley Crowther. Does any one else ever feel like that?

Too often Russell seems to get bored with a movie, and he does those big bizarre set pieces as a distraction, as in his film "Mahler". Sometimes he seems to view these scenes as the film's entire raison d'etre; I think "Tommy" was guilty of this, invigorating though "Tommy" often was. Here his outsized muse serves the material and the emotions of the protagonist. This is why it is, in my experience, his best film.

Thus endeth the book report.