Word: films
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...woman as animal. The parallels between her and Vidal's carnivorous heroine are remarkable. Says Raquel, "I understand Myra thoroughly. I've always identified with her." Now she is bringing her sense of identification to the screen in the title role of 20th Century-Fox's forthcoming film version of Myra. Not since Cleopatra has a movie provoked so much gossip, speculation, expectation?and guerrilla war?even before going into production. As the filming staggers into its ninth week, real-life and fantasy female forces keep colliding in Raquel Welch, and the collision promises the extreme moment of her career...
...Meanwhile, Myra presents Raquel with her first real opportunity to show what she can do. Although the role is impeccably tailored to her assets and attitudes, the odds are stacked against her. In the first place, it is hard to imagine a book more difficult to transpose into quality film. Such scandalous scenes as a female-to-male rape with a leather dildoe may prove too much even for today's censors. When Author Vidal is not trumpeting the beatitudes of bi-sexualism, he is trying to convey another message: ours is a society dangerously worshipful of celluloid (there...
...wasn't always by accident. Her first film was a microscopic nightmare, Fantastic Voyage (her best line, to a leering Stephen Boyd: "I run the laser beam here. That should tell you where to keep your hands"). After that, Fox lent her to Britain's Hammer Film Productions for its reprise of One Million Years B.C. Says Raquel: "It was the kind of movie you do just to go to Europe and hope everyone will forget...
After the completion of Belle de Jour in 1966, Luis Buñuel Delphically announced: "No more cinema for me-not in Spain, not in France, nowhere. Belle de Jour is my last film, semicolon...
Such an apologia may be offered by the confused and untalented artist as well as by the gifted one. The Milky Way, in fact, seems made of both varieties. Its shards and fragments remain in the retina long after the film has flashed by. Yet the angry whole is never equal to some of its parts-as if, like a doctor attending a plagued patient, Buñuel had been infected by what he was treating. "We have just enough religion to make us hate," said Swift, "but not enough to make us love one another." It is impossible...