Candy (1968) 115m.
Oh, those 60s. Extravagant version of the novel by Terry Southern and Mason Hoffenberg is a lot of fun when seen with an audience in a theater; on television it may seem fairly pointless. It has great curio value because it is so patently a product of its time - witness its wild editing, camp atmosphere, and rock soundtrack. But more importantly notice its playfulness - we really don't care that the entire film crew is reflected in a giant mirror near the end, because it seems so appropriate for the era. At a time when directors and actors were turning the lens back on to themselves to deliberately break through the 'fourth wall' of the cinema and remind us all that 'it's only a movie' it was inevitable that several 60s productions would turn out embarrassingly trite or pretentious. Not so CANDY - like its heroine it is infused with a sense of reckless innocence. Sure, it's self-indulgent and paints its satire with a broad brush, but if anything it's even more fun to watch now than it was in its own time.
Both novel and film are slim reworkings of Voltaire's 'Candide', which dealt with the misadventures of a youth in a society of dubious philosophy, religion, and morality. The update is irrelevant for the film experience - as a screenplay CANDY could have been invented purely for the cinema (it certainly had to abandon the more pornographic elements of the book). Swedish teenager Ewa Aulin plays the title character in a suitably vacant manner (it's hard to tell whether she can act or not because she is only given one sentence at a time, and it is nearly always a reaction or a question); consequently it's easy to pass over how well she fits the role. She really does capture an oblivious aspect of Candy that prevents us from being truly annoyed with her. It's just as well, because take a look at who she's up against - a bombastic, lecherous Richard Burton, an egotistical, lecherous James Coburn, and guru-like, lecherous Marlon Brando. Throw in John Astin, Ringo Starr, Walter Matthew (all lecherous) and a few extras including an Italian director and a hunchback, and you'll see that Candy barely manages to get a word in edgewise. At the time of CANDY's release some critics saw the involvement of big-name stars as an embarrassment worth celebrating in their columns, but as is most often the case with such things the film has endured while the notices have been forgotten - modern audiences don't mind seeing Brando and Burton play-acting instead of method acting.
Of course, Candy is no spokesperson for any women's movement, and with very little correlation between her constant disrobing and the story's satirical comment (against the military, the police, the literati, religion, the medical profession, and even film-making) she appears as a very doubtful heroine indeed. In some ways she is like BARBARELLA (also released in 1968, and with a screenplay by Southern) and the cosmic visions that open and close the film allude to her as a traveler through space and time, journeying from one outlandish event to another, sampling each in turn. For this reason I don't see Aulin's Candy as being a victim but rather an observer - most importantly, she appears unchanged by any of her liaisons except the last, at which point she has seen enough and transcends her own status of a character, almost literally walking out of her own movie to find re-invention elsewhere. Is Candy an extra-terrestrial visitor? It would explain her naiveté but not her background - unless her family and school are also fabrications. Fortunately such speculation is brushed over lightly, sidestepping likely charges of pretension against the film (I don't know if this idea is presented in the novel). This is less brain candy than it is eye candy. It would make a good double bill with THE MAGIC CHRISTIAN, if only because of the involvement of Ringo and Southern in both, but then again that might be a tad too much for one sitting! Energetically directed by Christian Marquand. It looks and sounds great in a cinema, so watch for prints in revival houses.
sburridge@hotmail.com
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