The other day, I told you that Turner Classic Movies was running Pretty Maids All in a Row this morning. I'm watching it now and I realize I forgot to tell you something about it. I forgot to tell you what a truly crummy film it is.
In my defense, let me assure you I'd forgotten. It was not atypical of many movies that came out around 1970 that couldn't seem to figure out the morality of sleeping around…whether it was a good thing or a bad thing or even, beyond the release of horniness, what it might mean to someone's life. It's almost like movies were afraid to have a point of view on their own sex scenes. They were there because that's what ticket buyers were buying tickets to see and that was more than enough.
There are some other odd things about the movie. I know Rock Hudson wasn't dubbed in this film but for some reason, he sounds like he was. It's also a bit distracting, in light of later revelations and his death, to see Mr. Hudson play an unabashed heterosexual hedonist. And isn't it odd to see Telly Savalas rehearsing to play Kojak? Even though the character had the silly name of Sam Surcher, it's Kojak. I think this is the first time Savalas played that kind of part and it wouldn't surprise me if he got the role of Theo Kojak in that TV-movie because someone saw him in this film.
But really, the "who's killing the co-eds?" plot is so lame with no surprise and no logical throughline. When the film came out, I was baffled as to whether Hudson's character was really as one-dimensional as it seemed or whether I was missing something. My curiosity led me to buy and read the book by Francis Pollini from which the movie was based. I thought it might give me a clue but it didn't. The paperback had a great James Bama cover but no more insight. As I recall — it's been 35 years since I read it — the book had a much stronger racial angle, keying off a young black student who was suspected of the killings. In adapting that work, Gene Roddenberry eliminated that character, thereby creating a murder mystery with no suspects and no clues…and not much of a point.
Still, it was nice to see my old high school…and even nicer to see Angie Dickinson. But I apologize if you went out of your way to watch this one because of me.