One of the foreign imagers found some new stage nudity:



  • * Yellow asterisk: funny (maybe).

  • * White asterisk: expanded format.

  • * Blue asterisk: not mine.

  • No asterisk: it probably sucks.


Catch the deluxe version of Other Crap in real time, with all the bells and whistles, here.










Margaux Hemingway film clips. Raw screen grabs below.


Scoop's notes:

The few people who have seen Lipstick remember it vividly, even though they probably saw it many decades ago. It's a story about the rape of a supermodel, and the trial of the rapist. Although the realism of the rape can't be compared to some more recent films like Irreversible, it was all too realistic by 1976 standards, and it triggered a debate over whether the graphic portrayal of the rape scene was necessary to create revulsion for the rapist, or was simply melodramatic exploitation designed to fulfill the dominance fantasies of male members of the audience. Was it a turn-on or a turn-off?

Women, even feminist women, were divided on the question. Many female intellectuals felt that the movie was pure cheesy exploitation, while others felt that the film accurately and importantly portrayed two ancillary aspects of the rape:

  • The marketing of sex in our society that makes men think of women as sexual objects.
  • The process by which a rape trial may humiliate the victim as much or more than the rape itself.

The supermodel was raped by her little sister's unstable music teacher. At the request of the student/sister, he had come to their apartment to play them some of his unique synthesized compositions, which were basically eerie sounds combining abstract modern music with ambient noise. The phone rang while he was playing his music for the supermodel, and she used the phone call as an excuse to get away from the cacophony. He took that departure as a grave insult, and his burning anger turned to brutality.

The woman reported the crime, went to trial, experienced all the attendant humiliation, then heard the jury say "not guilty". Back out on the streets and not satisfied to lie low after his lucky break, the rapist took the first available opportunity to rape the supermodel's 13-year-old sister. When that second rape happened during a photo shoot, the supermodel, still wearing an elegant ball gown, went out to her car, got a big game rifle, and avenged her sister by gunning the rapist down like an animal in the streets of L.A. In a postscript, the audience was told that she was found "not guilty" in her own trial.

That sounds improbable and melodramatic, but probably not totally foolish, right?


It was totally foolish, for several reasons:

1. The supermodel was played by a genuine supermodel, Margaux Hemingway, the face of Babe perfume. The critics excoriated her performance. Looking back on it now and trying to remain objective, I don't think that she did a bad acting job, certainly not by supermodel standards, but Margaux seemed worthy of ridicule because she had a hilarious cartoon voice that sounded quite a bit like quacking, and she also had a pronounced speech impediment. She did have some weak line readings, but in some other scenes she seemed quite convincing, especially in the scenes with her sister. That didn't really matter, given her voice. Imagine a brutal, realistic rape drama in which the beautiful victim talks like Donald Duck, and you'll see why the critics had a field day with Margaux. Even with the extreme gravity of the subject matter, it is not easy to suppress laughter when Margaux is speaking. Her voice, the film's melodrama, and the turgid dialogue could be viewed as ultra-high camp if it were about some subject other than rape.

Margaux took such a critical lambasting that she was offered only two roles in the next seven years, and one of those was a minor part in a bad movie of legendary status (They Call Me Bruce?). Despondent over her failing career fortunes and two bad marriages, she suffered through a mammoth weight gain, substance abuse, and bankruptcy. She was living in a small apartment over a garage in Santa Monica, when she was found dead in 1996 at the age of 41. As reported by CNN, the L.A. Coroner ruled that she committed suicide. Suicide is another Hemingway tradition. Ernest Hemingway himself committed suicide, as did his brother, sister and father. Margaux's sister Mariel disputes the suicide conclusion in Margaux's case, arguing that Margaux seems to have suffered an epileptic seizure exacerbated by her substance abuse. Mariel's position is that Margaux was a drama queen who would have left a suicide note, and that she was found with her legs propped on a pillow and a book in her lap, a condition not indicative of suicide.

2. Some scenes just came out of nowhere. Before the last day of the trial, Margaux was at home asleep. She picked up her phone, and heard some of the music teacher's weird, discordant compositions. The camera then cut to the other side of the call, revealing the naked music teacher, holding the receiver to a speaker. I suppose that could have been worked into the plot somehow, but it wasn't. The scene existed in complete isolation. The next scene took place in court the next day, and nobody spoke of the phone call again.

3. A big game rifle? She was "the hottest model in the world". I suppose some L.A. supermodels at that level might keep a loaded big game rifle in their car, but I'd have to figure the percentage is pretty low. Of course, they were heading to the mountains and Margaux's last name was Hemingway, so I suppose it was a family tradition.

4. What could have been her legal defense when she killed the guy? I know that the scriptwriter wanted to see her get off, but the film should have ended with her standing over the body in her ball gown, still pointing her rifle. (Ending it there would have been more cinematic as well.) Her slaying of the rapist was premeditated, calculated murder, and to make it more egregious, she was firing off round after round in a parking lot and then on a major thoroughfare in downtown L.A., oblivious to passers-by. It was only by sheer chance that she didn't kill fifty people, because Mr Rapist was driving a car. After she fired the first two shots, the rapist's car went out of control into a city street and flipped over. Yes, of course the guy deserved what he got, but that's no legal defense.

I did learn something from this movie. The D.A. played a sample of the rapist's music for the jury. Everyone in the courtroom was instantly able to conclude that a man is capable of murder if he can create sounds consisting of a synthesizer and ocean noises. I hadn't thought of that before, but it's hard to disagree. The police should go to all the candle shops in America, pick up those "noises of nature" tapes, and add the authors to their database of usual suspects.








Katija Pevec in Life is Hot in Cracktown

Stephanie Lugo in Life is Hot in Cracktown



Jane Asher in Buttercup Chain (caps below)

I can't remember seeing this movie. In fact, I don't even remember it, but if you are into nostalgic look at cheesy 1970s filmmaking, you'll get a real kick out of the clips from this film. My favorite clip is the one of Leigh Taylor-Young dancing topless in a London disco.

Leigh Taylor-Young in Buttercup Chain (caps below)

Shannyn Sossamon in Life is Hot in Cracktown (caps below)

Ann-Margret in Carnal Knowledge