Sextette (1978)

What exactly can anyone say about "Sextette"? Ostensibly a Seventies-era reworking of Mae West's 1926 play "Sex", this movie exists within it's own continuum of both camp and sadness. You either laugh at the complete absurdity of it all or feel a deep pity for everyone who signed on to participate in the hot mess the whole enterprise turned into. West, who was in her mid- 80s at the time of filming, had been rediscovered by audiences who had no idea who she was by appearing in Michael Sarne's career killing version of "Myra Breckinridge" (1970). Mae's infamous feud with Rachel Welch during the filming of "Myra" brought her into the public eye again, so six years later, "Sextette" was trotted out to cash in on Mae's newfound camp appeal. The time had passed for Mae to be nothing other than a caricature of herself, there's a certain cruelty evident when she appears on screen here. No special effects could hide the years Mae was carrying, she looks like a mummy slathered with makeup and topped with a gargantuan blond wig. She arthritically weaves, wobbles, sashays, and gives her all in a performance that uses her most famous double-entendres. The poor thing tries, but she's now a visibly tired cartoon. A dirty joke about a supposed sex- bomb who's decades old and a horny granny to boot. Newly wed Mae cavorts in a British hotel with her young husband (Timothy Dalton) in a farce straight out of the 1930s. Several plots are running simultaneously: a global peace initiative is taking place at the hotel, Mae's tape recorded diary (on a pink cassette) of her marriages and sexual secrets has gone missing, the British press thinks her new husband is gay, American muscle-men are working out at the hotel, and nearly all of Mae's ex-husbands are wandering around the joint interrupting her wedding night. Mae contends with all the madness around her by constantly changing her Edith Head costumes, which are anachronistic in the extreme and verbally sparring with the ex- husbands played by Ringo Starr, Tony Curtis, and George Hamilton. Mae sidles up to the muscle in the gym, evidently clueless to the fact that they're all more interested in each other than they are in her, and finally saves the world at the peace summit talks. Throw in many sad cameos and the last film appearances of Mae, Walter Pidgeon, and George Raft. Throw in musical numbers that border on the surreal. Add a soundtrack by Van McCoy, the composer who gave the world the disco anthem "The Hustle". Mr. McCoy gives Mae a frightening disco-ized version of "Baby Face" to warble, a bizarre "Hooray for Hollywood" production number, and the inimitable Dom Deluise belting out the Beatles' "Honey Pie" while faking tap dancing on top of a piano. Rockers Keith Moon and Alice Cooper show up. All this, and more. Undoubtedly, this whole enterprise probably sounded like a good idea at the time. Hollywood legend returns and everyone gets down to Boogietown! Boffo box-office! In reality, no one cared or paid to see this. Mae died two years after making this, which is very sad indeed. Instead of going out remembered as an icon, she went as a mummy looking for sex and wasting 80-odd (very odd) minutes on a set up for the last line in the movie. "Sextette", then, is an artifact from the era of platform shoes and pet rocks, two things no one needed even at the time. Best viewed after ingesting LSD and wearing polyester clothing.

Having previously watched many of Mae West's Paramount movies as well as her one Universal with W.C. Fields, I decided to now watch her very last movie on YouTube called Sextette. She may be noticeably aged to her 84 or 85 years here but she still can make a risqué line seem charming enough to amuse. Dom DeLuise is just as much fun as her handler especially when doing the "Honey Pie" number while tap dancing. Of much of the supporting cast: Ringo Starr is okay as one of West's ex-hubbys as a film director, Tony Curtis has some good moments as another of hers, George Hamilton doesn't seem to fare as well but there was an amusing moment when he talks to a Brando-Godfather impersonator especially when one knows Hamilton's later playing a role in Godfather III. Keith Moon is hilarious as West's dress designer. Alice Cooper is almost unrecognizable as the entertainingly smooth piano singer. And leading man Timothy Dalton isn't bad as the leading man who has to prove his manliness to the media at every turn. He also isn't bad as a singer when he warbles "Love Will Keep Us Together" to West (certainly better than another Bond actor, Pierce Brosnan, singing in Momma Mia!). Loved DeLuise's ironic line about him near the end! And how fitting that George Raft, who cast Mae in her first film role in Night After Night, gets a cameo here alongside her in an elevator. How ironic they'd die within two days of each other a couple of years later (Ms. West on Nov. 22, 1980 and Raft on the 24th). Mae herself could still put over a song especially when she sings "Happy Birthday, Sweet 21" to a young athlete. Oh, and I also loved the impersonation of the president of the time, Jimmy Carter, here. So on that note, I mostly liked Sextette and would recommend it to any of Ms. West's fans.

Mae West was, and still is, an icon. She had a swagger and a gift for naughty double entendres that both titillated and outraged the American public. She was a person who was not above using her feminine wiles to her advantage and she did all of this in her early forties at a time when Hollywood was even more unforgiving to middle-aged actresses. Even now, nearly a century after she burst onto the scene, her influence can still be seen in the likes of Madonna, Gwen Stefani and Cristina Aguilera.However, by the time she made "Sextette," she was well over eighty and still trying so hard to be "Mae West" that she had devolved into a parody of herself. Decked out in a giant platinum blonde wig, slathered with enough makeup to attend her own funeral and long, bodice-covering dresses obviously meant to hide the ravages of time on her body and her increasing waistline, this was not Mae West. This wasn't even the same Mae West who appeared in "Myra Breckenridge" eight years earlier. This was some two-bit drag queen's impersonation of Mae West. Apparently, even the director for this film knew it too, as he bathed her in enough soft white light to make Barbara Walters envious.You can argue all day long about whether a woman of such advanced age has a right to think of herself as sexy or whether or not the rumors about her using earpieces or being wheeled around the set are true, but the fact is, she just doesn't have it anymore in this film and it is just painful to watch. She has noticeable trouble moving, some of her lines seem off, and all of her songs are either obviously lip-synched or spoken-word numbers where she doesn't have to exert herself trying to sing. The fact that she has men young enough to be her grandchildren fawning over her only highlights the cognitive dissonance between who Mae West thinks she is and who she actually is.The plot for this movie is ridiculous and doesn't pretend to be serious, so I won't go into much detail, just that Marlo Manners' (Mae West's character, as if it really matters) honeymoon night with her sixth husband (Timothy Dalton, would you believe) is mercifully interrupted by a parade of past ex-husbands, movie shoots, and world peace talks that have stalled because one of the ex-husbands is involved and wants one more night of passion with our geriatric sexpot before he'll make nice with the rest of the world's leaders.Also there's a missing cassette tape that Marlo doesn't want anyone to get their hands on despite the fact that she was using it to record her autobiography. If you don't want people knowing about your past exploits, why would you record an autobiography? Why would you record them period? The plot only exists to build up Mae West as a memetic sex goddess anyway, so who cares? I won't go into the acting too much either, except that Timothy Dalton does a surprisingly good job considering he's playing a man who's anxious to get into an octogenarian's pants. West herself seems to have lost her comedic timing in her old age which does lend some plausibility to the earpiece urban legend. Other standouts include a cardboard Russian stereotype played by Tony Curtis, a cardboard mobster played by George Hamilton and a cardboard camp gay fashion designer played by… Keith Moon? Other bizarre casting choices include Ringo Starr as a prima donna film director and yet another ex-husband and Alice Cooper as a singing bellboy in a horrible wig that makes Mae West look good by comparison.And that brings us to the next point: this movie is a musical… even better, a DISCO musical! This just wouldn't be a 70's period piece without bad musical numbers, now would it? The musical selection ranges from bad to hilariously bad from the opening number where Mae West's ego is massaged by a choir who declare her to be a "living dream" and compare her to Venus de Milo to Miss West mumbling her way through a disco-fied update of "Baby Face." The bellboys pay tribute to Marlo as she arrives to her hotel with a song-and-dance rendition of "Hooray for Hollywood" that comes off as a big lipped alligator moment due to how poorly set up it is and finally, we have the "duet" between West and Dalton of "Love Will Keep Us Together". I use the term "duet" loosely as Dalton caterwauls through most of the song while West occasionally wakes up just long enough to mumble a few words here and here.Mae West wanted so badly to prove that she still had it by making "Sextette," but proved just the opposite instead. She was already in such bad shape that she would only live for two more years. However, despite the horrifying train wreck that this movie is, a part of me can't help but admire having the chutzpah to declare oneself sexually desirable at an age when most people are wiling away their days in a nursing home. I can't decide whether to be appalled or inspired when watching this movie.Maybe it's both.

Two or three scenes of jaw-dropping badness does not qualify a film for the "camp" brigade. Yes, the "Love" duet between West and Dalton is utter lunacy. Sure, the Cooper "finalé" is embarrassing to watch. (That black bellboy's neck almost snaps....WHAT was he DOING?) And Mae's song to the nubile 21-year-old MALE "MASCOT" of the supposed he-man "Olympic" team is enjoyably ludicrous. (Especially, being that he appears to be more than a mascot for the team, as a few of the beefy hunks mouth the love song to him, as well!)However, these laugh-riot moments are buried deep within a boring, moronic white elephant of a flick.That so many posters/users in here feel the need to vehemently defend this dog of a movie, is puzzling indeed. It is inept on almost every level, save Edith Head's dependable gown designs. The direction is sub - TV-movie level......the cinematography is horrendous.......the choreography makes Debbie Allen look like Agnes DeMille......the performances are schlock at almost all levels.For a true "camp" classic, check out "Can't Stop the Music." That one doesn't need an MST3K narration to be tolerable. Walter Pigeon deserves better for his final appearance.....I hope he used the cash to put a grandchild through college.In Mae's "words" during the "Love Will Keep Us Together," um, "duet"........"WHATevah!"