“The John O'Hara
novel that seemed perfect for the movies, plus the role that seemed perfect for
Elizabeth Taylor - and this is the garish mess it became,” is how the reliably
terse Pauline Kael dismissed Butterfield 8. “Daniel Mann's direction is maybe even
worse than the Charles Schnee-John Michael Hayes script. With Laurence Harvey;
Dina Merrill, doing a noble wife to end all noble wives; and a vacuum on the
screen that is said to be Eddie Fisher.”
Almost no one has a
good word to say about this lurid, wildly entertaining 1960 melodrama
(including leading lady Taylor herself) – so of course Butterfield 8 is
absolute catnip for me and it’s the March 2024 selection for the Lobotomy Room
cinema club devoted to Bad Movies for Bad People!
To its advantage: Taylor is
sublime as wanton high-priced, high-class New York call girl Gloria
Wandrous (tagline: “Gloria is the glamour girl who always wakes up
ashamed!”). And the script co-authored by John Michael Hayes (the genius behind
camp classicks (sic) Torch Song, Peyton Place, The Carpetbaggers, Where Love
Has Gone and Harlow) features dialogue like “Face it, mama! I was the slut of
all time!” and “I’ve had more fun in the back of a ’39 Ford than I could ever
have in the vault of the Chase National Bank!”
The opening moments alone are spellbinding:
as Edward Margulies and Stephen Rebello recount in their 1993 book Bad Movies
We Love, “Taylor awakens alone in her married lover’s bed, wraps herself in
only a sheet, lights a cigar, drains a glass of whiskey, discovers her torn
dress on the floor, brushes her teeth with booze, finds an envelope with $250
cash, scrawls “No Sale” in red lipstick across a mirror, leaves the money and
instead steals the absent wife’s mink coat, calls her answering service and
hails a cab to the apartment of … Eddie Fisher (by then, he was the real life
Mr. Taylor).”
So, join us on 21
March 2024 to watch Butterfield 8 over cocktails at Fontaine’s in Dalston! In
my intro, I’ll provide context on Eddie Fisher leaving his then-wife Debbie
Reynolds for Taylor in 1958 (the red-hot showbiz scandal of its time) and how
Taylor almost dying of pneumonia helped win her a “sympathy Oscar” for her
performance in Butterfield 8 in 1961!
Lobotomy Room is
the FREE monthly film club devoted to cinematic perversity! Third Thursday
night of every month downstairs at Fontaine’s cocktail lounge in Dalston.
Numbers are limited, so reserve your seat via Fontaine’s website. Alternatively, phone 07718000546 or email
bookings@fontaines.bar. The film starts at 8:30 pm. Doors to the basement
Bamboo Lounge open at 8:00 pm. To ensure everyone is seated and cocktails are
ordered on time, please arrive by 8:15 pm at the latest.
“By the odds, it should be a bomb. But a
bomb it is not, let us tell you. At least, it is not the sort of thing to set
you to yawning and squirming, unless Elizabeth Taylor leaves you cold. In the
first place, it has Miss Taylor, playing the florid role of the lady of easy
virtue, and that's about a million dollars right there. "I was the slut of
all times," she tells her mother in one of those searing scenes wherein
the subdued, repentant playgirl, thinking she has found happiness, bares her soul.
But you can take it from us, at no point does she look like one of those
things. She looks like a million dollars, in mink or in negligée. When she sits
at a bar with Laurence Harvey, who is not just any Joe but a millionaire with a
ten-room Fifth Avenue apartment and "caves all over town," and she
lets her eyes travel up and down him, measuring not the bulge of his pocketbook
but the bulge of his heart - well, all we can say is that Miss Taylor lends a
certain fascination to the film. Then, too, it offers admission to such an
assortment of apartments, high-class bars, Fifth Avenue shops and speedy sports
cars, all in colour and CinemaScope, that it should make the most moral status
seeker feel a little disposed toward a life of sin. Brandy, martinis and
brittle dialogue flow like water all over the place.”
/ Bosley Crowther reviewing Butterfield 8
in The New York Times, 17 November 1960 /
“In both Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and
Butterfield 8, Taylor appears in a tight white slip that looks as if it were
sewn onto her body. What a gorgeous object she is! Feminists are currently
adither over woman’s status as sex object but let them rave on in their little
mental cells. For me, sexual objectification is a supreme human talent that is
indistinguishable from the art impulse. Elizabeth Taylor, voluptuous in her
sleek slip, stands like an ivory goddess, triumphantly alone. Her smooth
shoulders and round curves, echoing those of mother earth, are gifts of nature,
beyond the reach of female impersonators. Butterfield 8, with its call-girl
heroine working her way down the alphabet of men from Amherst to Yale, appeared
at a very formative moment in my adolescence and impressed me forever with the
persona of the prostitute, whom I continue to revere.”
/ From "Elizabeth Taylor: Hollywood’s Pagan
Queen" by Camille Paglia, Penthouse magazine, March 1992 /
