Cult
Epics | Review
by Crites
First
of all, let's get a couple of things out
of the way here: number one, this is a fetish
film. Despite the claim that DARK ANGEL
attempts to recreate Bettie Page's "last
three years as a pin-up queen," biography
and historical reenactment take a backseat
to B&D here. And that being said, number
two is that JESUS TITTY-FUCKING CHRIST BUT
THIS IS A BORING GOD-DAMNED FILM! Read on!
Miami, 1955 – Bettie's
posing on the beach for Bunny Yeager. Now
she's back in New York, filming "Whip
Dance" with Irving Klaw (Dukey Flyswatter).
Now she's acting out an excruciating audition
scene with her boyfriend Marvin. Now she's
in high heels and spurs for "Dominant
Betty in Black Corselet (sic)," spanking
and tying a much sexier bondage model. Now
she's at some Italian joint hearing a good
review of her feature TEASERAMA. Now she's
getting jilted by Howard Hughes (damn that
crazy rich peepin' tom bastard and his fake
'screen tests!').
Sound jumpy? It is –
the entire excuse for a storyline is crafted
around recreating the bondage sessions,
shot in sparse (cheap) vintage black &
white settings in an attempt to mimic "Klaw's
original style." Anyway, back to the
'action!'
"The craziest request
I ever had to fulfill was to wear a black
leather pony girl outfit." (And although
you can already tell I'm pretty skeptical
of the whole production, this is a pretty
good scene, stills from which would make
for great posters.) After "Dressaging
the Pony Girl" Bettie receives a scathing
review of her last legitimate stage performance,
and oh no, goes walking through the park
in the rain, alone. Back in Klaw's studio
she's starring in "Fighting Girls"
(a slightly classier and much sexier version
of today's Brawlin' Broads), and from there
Bettie and a model girlfriend meet up with
a couple of Camera Club photographers in
a sleazy motel room, get drunk, photographed
and, most likely, molested.
Bettie in leopard skin bikini
and ball gag for "Jungle Girl Tied
to the Trees." Bettie getting a summons
from the FBI in relation to obscenity charges
against Klaw; Klaw in court being denounced
by a Nazi-esque prosecutor and being forced
to cease production; Bettie walking around
alone some more through the windy streets
of New York; Bettie getting a threatening
Black Dahlia-style letter; Bettie going
back to Miami to marry her boyfriend Armand;
Bettie walking around alone on the beach
at night and happening across a Baptist
church wherein a choir is practicing, and
having a tearful episode when she realizes
how wasted her life has been. The End.
Well, except for a few brief
paragraphs summing up the lives of the players:
Irving, well, he's dead; his sister spared
a few films and stills from the flames of
censorship and used them to keep the legacy
of Bettie Page alive; and Bettie herself
went on to have several failed marriages,
a fit of religious fanaticism, a nervous
breakdown, and a ten-year 'hospitalization'
before, we're told, coming to live "happily
in California."
As the credits role, Richards
strips down completely and models with a
live leopard who alternates between looking
bored and looking like he'd really like
to eat her.
So there you have it –
absolutely the kind of film catering to
the same pseudo-rockabilly dicks who beg
their fat girlfriends to dress like Bettie.
(A notion the film's tepid rockabilly score
does nothing to diminish.) I'd never been
a huge Bettie Page fan – yeah her photos
were sexy, but I hardly saw the cult appeal.
Was it her 'mysterious disappearance' that
made her so alluring? Were there even more
extreme photos/film reels made after her
association with Klaw ended? Dope? Snuff?!
Donkeys?!? There was some dark and seedy
potential here (THE BONDAGE LADY VANISHES?),
and with the title of the film and all I'd
really hoped "Nico B" would expand
upon the "Dark Angel" angle and
carry the picture over into James Ellroy/pulp
noir territory to answer or at least plausibly
fabricate Bettie's darker side and/or last
days; Bettie's vanishing point is easily
as intriguing as any of her on-screen appearances.
But no, instead BPDA contents
itself with a masturbatory softcore ambiance
that only diminishes what little legend
there is to the model. There's no doubt
that bondage was far more kinky and taboo
fifty years ago than it is today, but there
have to have been some juicier moments to
the life of a bondage icon than we're presented
here; all we get is a portrait of the pathetic
failure of a bland young woman's life, adorned
only by the very episodes that sullied it.
Not much intrigue or allure there, especially
as the film completely neglects to dramatically
detail Page's Francis Farmer routine. (Which
would have made for another, better, film
in and of itself.)
In between the above-mentioned
exploitation the film does briefly spell
out Bettie's frustrated aspirations of becoming
a 'real' actress and the rigid oppression
Klaw suffered as a result of his work, but
these important events are mere snapshots
compared to the massive focus on Page's
pin-up career.
Paige Richards does bear fair
resemblance to Page in face and body, but
she still can't act for shit. There is something
of a goofy charm to her scenes, but far
from being adorable this act really puts
the cheese in cheesecake as during her sessions
she doesn't quite manage to become the sexpot
she strives to be. Outside of the bondage
reels her acting is clumsy and trite, something
the flat script does little to enhance with
its high school-level artistry. Here's a
typical scene:
Bettie enters the office of
Irving Klaw's Movie Star News. "Hello
Irving."
"Good afternoon, Bettie. How was your
trip?"
"It was fabulous, but you know I always
miss New York."
"Well, you're too late today, so you'll
have to come back tomorrow."
"How was your week?"
"Weeks are better when I put out pictures
of you."
"Stop joshin' me! See you tomorrow!"
End scene. (Scorching!)
Worse yet is the scene in
the church – far from sobbing in remorse
for a life ill-lived, Bettie appears to
be crying over the record number of clichˇs
used in a single scene ("Gotta have
a MONTAGE!"). Hey! It smells hackneyed
in here!
Yet another of the film's
many detractors is the narration, conducted
in an affected god-awful accent. While it
may help propel what little storyline there
is, it's absolutely painful to listen to.
And with the film's promotional materials
playing up Bettie's 'mysterious disappearance,'
who exactly are we supposed to believe is
reading the script? Her ghost? Her granddaughter?
The big fat shut-in she most likely became?
All in all it's a pretty horrendously
pretentious effort (hiring a "bondage
consultant") over a subject that, really,
merits little attention in the first place.
A long-gone bondage model – only fetishists
and fans will care; those like myself looking
for a good story, or simply some true sleaze,
will be left without a crap to give.
The film is presented in widescreen,
and "Special Features" include
a "Bondage, Fighting & Nudity"
menu consisting of expansions upon the bondage
session scenes (all of which are eminently
fast-forwardable), a bonus "Nude Shoot"
of Richards, some "Original Music Recordings"
(fruity music played by bored studio musicians,
conducted by Zack Ryan), the original version
of a dream sequence, "Just As I Am"
performed by the Legendary Clara Ward Singers,
and an extensive photo gallery of Richards.
Plus trailers for this film and the Italian
sex farce FRIVOLOUS LOLA.
