"They come in here, these mods, asking for animal paws to hang on their scooters, and then while your back's turned a nice bit of skunk vanishes up their knickers..."
As you can see, last night we rented Smashing Time. Many people I know and admire have, or least affect, a great deal of fondness for this kitschy mod-sploitation film, but this is the first time I'd ever seen it. Dan Treacy swiped the title and "plot" for one of my favorite TV Personalities songs, thereby automatically putting viewing it on my list of things to do before I die-- there's that one out of the way anyhow.
It's probably too silly and slapstick to be effective satire (the director appears to have been guided by the maxim: when in doubt, cream pie fight!) But some of its gags still work, even now that London no longer swings. Yvonne's hit song "I'm so Young," often covered but never equalled, is pretty brilliant, the kind of parody that surpasses the genuine article.
I can't sing, but I'm young
Can't do a thing, but I'm young
I'm a fool, but I'm cool
Don't put me down...
I also liked "You Can't Help Laughing," a TV show whose host disguises himself as the foreman of a wrecking crew and surprises unsuspecting members of the public by demolishing their houses and compensating them with glittering prizes.
When Yvonne is awarded a check for ten thousand pounds after having her flat destroyed, they ask her what she'll do with the money. She exclaims: "Well first I've got to go to Carnaby Street, 'cos I've got to be dressed right, y'see? And then I'll get a pad and I'll find an agent and become famous, of course! And if I can't become famous on ten thousand pounds I give up!"
You know, I think we've all been there.
(By the way, Lynn Redgrave's high-pitched, exaggerated Northern-accented voice sounds more than a little like that of Cartman from South Park-- so we can call the film "prescient' as well.)
Was Carnaby Street really as hip, baby, as it was cracked up to be? (These days it's more like a giant Hot Topic.) Was there ever really a Switched-on Jabberwock Gallery on Bond Street? Probably not, but I'm going to choose to believe that there was.
My wife could barely tolerate it, and much of it is hard to take. Still, out of sheer perversity, I give it four benzedrines out of a possible six.
Now if I could just get my hands on a copy of Up Pompeii. Hey there! Orgy girl...
Posted by Dr. Frank at November 14, 2002 01:57 PM | TrackBack