Monday, September 6, 2021

Highlander (1986)


I'd like to express my sincere thanks to Gill of Realweegiemidget Reviews for inviting me to the New Romantic Blogathon, because if I'm known for anything, it's my encyclopedic knowledge of frilly shirts, synth pop, and excess. 

Now I know what you're thinking, Stabford has yet again missed the memo. Realweegiemidget Reviews has graciously invited me to the No True Scotsman Blogathon, and I admit I don't know an awful lot about Scotland, Scottish actors, or kilts. However, I do know an awful lot about dodgy accents, extravagant outfits, and music videos disguised as movies, which is why I'm absolutely convinced since I'm reviewing the head-lopping, mid-80s, sword-and-trenchcoat, Scottish noir fantasy Highlander directed by music video auteur Russell Mulcahy, that this blogathon was just itching to be plundered, and here we are. 

Highlander (1986)

Before I get to the review, maybe I should explain a little about what the New Romantic movement was. It was a pop culture movement that lasted about two weeks during the late 1970s and early 1980s, and neither me nor my closet have ever really gotten over it, with my chrome sneakers, collection of various scarves, and unusually high number of skinny ties dating back to Interpol's first record, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, the New Romantic movement consisted of hair spray, eyeliner, extravagant blouses, shouting the phrase "Shiver me timbers!", and synthesizers, and for the life of me I just can't figure out why it never caught on.

"Ridicule is nothing to be scared of"

Before I get to the review, I'm just going to say that watching Highlander was a little triggering, because it reminded me of all those times during the early 80s when I nonchalantly strolled down damp, foggy Austrian streets as spotlights illuminated my shadow against buildings while I dramatically bundled up my trench coat fashionably around my neck to combat the chill and oops I'm forgetting that I was never in the band Ultravox and the music video to their classic song Vienna was not one of my actual memories.


I'm not going to say that I didn't have my share of evenings out in the 80s hopping from nightclub to nightclub in ridiculous outfits; scarved, Aquanetted and eyelinered within an inch of my life, because I did, but unfortunately since it was the early 1980s there are no pictures to confirm this and you'll have to take my word for it that I looked excessive, slightly pirate-y, and amazing. 

What I thought I looked like

What I actually looked like

Anyway, enough about my early-80s penchant for wearing a scarf as a headband, because I mean who didn't go through one of those phases am I right? Let's get back to the review.

Highlander (1986)

The film begins with a little wrestling because that's what you'd expect to find in a Scottish sword movie and because why not. Suddenly, a sword fight breaks out in a parking garage with sweeping crane shots, backflips, and a sword fighter artfully reflected in silver Ray-Ban sunglasses, and you're going to be hard-pressed to find something more quintessentially 80s than that. 

Someone wears a skull headdress and a kilt, and I totally would have worn that when I saw A-ha on their Hunting High And Low Tour in 1986, when I wore a floor-length black trench coat.

In a sea of pastel Benetton cable-knit sweaters, even Morten Harket looked upon me disapprovingly.

Suddenly, someone is seen running down an alley with stream escaping from pipes, which means there may have been some sort of plumber shortage during the 80s since this was such a common occurrence. Speaking of common occurrences, someone turns abruptly and dramatically looks at the camera, and there's a shot of just their eyes. 

Signature move

I'm not sure where this film actually takes place, but it's the most amazing location, because everywhere you go during the present day, you hear Queen, and everywhere you go in the past, it looks like the Safety Dance. 

Signature move

Sean Connery arrives dressed in peacock feathers claiming to be from Spain, and his accent makes that seem unlikely. Then he rows a boat and says, "Haggis? What is haggis?".

Codpiece? What is codpiece?

You know, we're a little too early in the review for a codpiece joke. 

Sean Connery wears a red outfit with puffy sleeves, claims he's Egyptian, and sings a song while wearing a codpiece. All this seems very unlikely. Speaking of unlikely, I searched high and low (a ha!) over the internet for "Sean Connery Highlander Codpiece", and there seems to be a lack of images, and that's surprising because it's so conspicuous it probably had its own trailer. 

Looks like he's smuggling a spiral cut ham

Come to think of it, "Connery Codpiece Trailer" sounds like a 1990s indie band that has a hammered dulcimer player.

Suddenly, there's a sword fight that destroys a castle because of course there is.

A bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos makes an appearance, and it's pretty infuriating because I'm off cheese. Apparently, a vintage bag of Nacho Flavored Doritos was on sale on E-bay for $400. There were no chips in it, so I don't see the appeal. The Nacho Cheese Doritos are pretty good, but the Taco Flavored Doritos are my favorite. Speaking of unlikely things, I once had a lengthy discussion with a stranger about Taco Flavored Doritos in the snack aisle at Target because the stranger claimed they were very hard to find, but I pointed at the bag and said, "They're not hard to find, they're right there", and Mrs. Deathrage wandered away in disgust and said she "Didn't want to be indoctrinated into my weird Dorito cult". 

If anyone would like to be indoctrinated into my Weird Dorito Cult™, just Venmo me $5 and you're in.

During a sword fight in another smoky alleyway, there's a sudden machine-gun battle, and all the dancers from Love Is A Battlefield appear.

OK, OK. Even I have to admit that I've wandered far afield on this one if I'm bringing up Love Is A Battlefield. Russell Mulcahy didn't even direct it, and Pat Benatar was never part of the New Romantic movement. I've written myself into a very vague and stylish corner. So, I think what this situation calls for is a video of four minutes of a loop of a man dressed in a Peirrot outfit dancing to Planet Earth by Duran Duran, you know, as a distraction. 

Now that's over, back to the movie. There are trench coats, Miami Vice suits, outlandish earrings, pleated pants, shoulder pads, ludicrously placed zippers, burlap, leather jackets, high waisted jeans, and safety pins.

There's also gratuitous pyrotechnics and people slowly rising up out of the water. 

Signature move

There's also swords that go "Whoosh", kilts, beheadings, Linn Drum, and Fairlight, and I've rambled on long enough. I'm not going down the Fairlight rabbit hole.

Thanks again to Gill for allowing me to participate in the No True Scotsman Blogathon, since this might be the last one she allows me to participate in after this since I haven't mentioned Christopher Lambert once. His accent is just terrible.

Saturday, May 22, 2021

Hercules in the Haunted World


Many thanks to Cinematic Catharsis and Realweegiemidget Reviews for inviting me to the Christopher Lee Blogathon. I feel as though I'm really in my element with this blogathon, reviewing a partially-dubbed widescreen sword-&-sandals sort-of-zombie-vampire film where a movie legend appears for about ten whole minutes. That's totally right up my alley! 

Speaking of being right in my element, I might have mentioned that I recently had a mid-life career change. Everything about my career is completely different. I used to stand on my feet all day, stay up way too late, and be extremely cool. Now I sit all day, get up very early, and I'm still extremely cool, but no one appreciates it, and I'm certainly not getting paid for that. I can no longer just skate by on style, sarcasm, withering glares, quirk, and stoicism. I'm now licensed to ACTUALLY KNOW THINGS. Not that I'm complaining. I needed to try something different and learn new skills, and I don't miss my old career in the slightest. 

By the way, Happy World Goth Day to everyone! I'm listening to Bauhaus in celebration. Disclaimer, I've never really been cool, except for a two-week period in 1986, but the bar was set pretty low considering it was 1986.

Speaking of getting up very early, since I now sit at a desk with my big ol' knowing-things brain for 8 hours a day, I've gotten into the habit of rising at dawn and running through the Alps. No, it's not actually the Alps. I've been getting on the NordicTrack and watching a video some dude walking through the Alps while I jog and sweat for about 20 minutes. Sometimes if I'm feeling a little spicy, I'll watch a guy walk through a haunted house while I jog and sweat for about 20 minutes, because isn't that exactly what a video treadmill is good for?

This new found health regimen has had one unfortunate side effect. I might be imagining it, but I'm pretty sure that my calves have become more muscular than my thighs, resulting in my legs looking suspiciously similar to Popeye's arms. 

Well, I could sit here and talk about 15% incline Swiss hikes, unintentional body building, and spinach all day, but let's get on the the movie review.

Hercules In The Haunted World

After a roll in the hay, Hercules' friend pushes his girlfriend in the river. Hercules throws a huge cart and destroys a hay-bearing structure, then there's mournful oboe. I'm not sure why there's so much hay and oboe.

While bathed in rich, colorful lights (which is a remarkable feat for thousands of years ago), Christopher Lee tricks a guy into getting stabbed over a tiara in a strange underground temple. He glares and looks generally bad-ass. GOALS.

SAME. Hey, I might get one of these outfits for myself and wear it to work.

Suddenly, some guy walks up behind Hercules and calls him Achilles as if he hadn't read the script, or maybe he just sort of wandered in from a different shorty-toga movie and got lost. 

Hercules' boat travels through an otherworldly realm that is lit by a sinister red glow, and it reminds me of a completely different candy-colored boat ride, only this one is actually exciting and has a catchy tune.

Suddenly, Hercules throws a giant rock to get a magic apple out of the very top of a dead tree, which is often where magical, mythical fruit grows. 

Suddenly, a rock monster appears. 

It's not very interesting.

Suddenly, Hercules says, "Stop, it's a trap!", and I'm surprised he hadn't realized this whole trip smacks of being a set-up a little earlier.

Suddenly, Hercules goes for a weird, one-armed swim, then he wanders through moaning wicker and climbs over difficult lava. Then Hercules' friend falls into the lava, which has the consistency of chunky soup.

After nearly an hour of screen time, Christopher Lee reappears.

My dude, I KNOW. *starts online shopping for cloaks*

I neglected to mention the masked oracle by a pool. Well, I mentioned it, so you can get off my back about it. 

Some much-needed vague vampirism finally occurs around the 1:07 mark, when Christopher Lee's face is reflected in a pool of blood, which wasn't half bad, really. Zombie-like hands burst forth from their graves and crypts for some reason, and wraiths suspended by strings levitate and swoop past the camera amidst crashing cymbals. Since it's kind of interesting, it only happens for about ten minutes.

Suddenly, Christopher Lee gets thrown by Hercules, then Christopher Lee stabs Hercules with a skeleton hand. On a scale of one-to-ten, I'll give it 5 Dave Vanians, 4 Peter Murphys, and throw in 4 Siouxsie Siouxs for good measure. 

It's my policy to not post spoilers about the ending of the movie. I'm going to break that rule, because your viewing experience can only be enhanced by Christopher Lee bursting into flame. It's pretty sweet, unexpected, and not thoroughly explained. 

Many times during my viewing of Hercules in the Haunted World, I imagined what it might have been like watching the vivid colors of the adventures of Herc and friends on a massive drive-in theater screen. Many times, I also nodded off, because 5 a.m Swiss jogs and stupefying leather toga'd boredom.

Hercules in the Haunted World features lots of scenes of toga'd individuals standing around talking and lots of hay. Hercules throws a bunch of stuff. There's a weird Goldilocks conflict over bed sizes featuring a rubber-suited rock monster. Hercules is only in the haunted realm for about 15 minutes, and Christopher Lee barely appears. The lighting is fabulous, though.

Thanks again to Barry and Gill for inviting me to the blogathon!

Monday, March 8, 2021

Wild Women Of Chastity Gulch

I'd like to begin this post by thanking RealweegieMidget Reviews for inviting me to this blogathon. Even though I have very little knowledge of the career of Joan Collins and I often completely disregard the movie I'm reviewing anyway, it's always nice to be included. And with every one of my blogathon blogposts, I'm convinced this will be the last one anyone invites me to. So thanks again, and let's get this wagon train a-rollin'.

The Wild Women Of Chastity Gulch

Ok, before we get to the review, let me explain a few things, because this wouldn't be a Stabford review without a couple of ducks, dodges, parries, and turns before I get really, really off-track.

At the beginning of 2021, IRL I decided to quit my job of 15 years and start in a completely new industry which requires licensing and lots and lots of studying. As usual, even though I knew about the blogathon for months, I was unable to watch the movie until a few minutes before the blogathon was supposed to begin. I also came to the unexpected realization that the entire film is unavailable for streaming, and only 30 minutes of it is anywhere, and it's a dreadful VHS rip, with atrocious image quality and tracking lines and image rolling. That certainly didn't stop me from enjoying the movie thoroughly in an it's-so-bad-it's-good kind of way because if you're going to watch something awful, you might as well pull out all the stops, hold your nose and jump in, and that's just how I roll.

So back to the review.

The Wild Women Of Chastity Gulch

So, like I said a minute ago, I only watched 30 minutes of the film, which is one of those early-80s Aaron Spelling Sunday Night TV-movies, and the fact it's an Aaron Spelling Production is probably the only reason it was made and broadcast at all, since from what I can tell The Wild Women Of Chastity Gulch's plot consists of only a lurid title, extravagantly frilly gowns, and cleavage.

The setting of the film is a town in either Civil War-era Missouri or an amusement park in Southern California I guess, and all the menfolk are off fighting in the war, leaving the town empty except for about two dozen working ladies in the town's brothel and inexplicably, Donny Osmond. 

In the brief clip I watched, the movie opens with poor Joan Collins catching a terminal case of vague heart-related death. Immaculately costumed, hair and purple eyeshadow on point, Joan Collins looks fantastic for someone wasting away, which I certainly can find no fault in. When I kick the bucket, at my funeral I'll need video screens, lasers, a backdrop, a DJ, and one of those grocery store "all occasion" cakes with huge, blue frosting roses on it where a touching and sentimental reminiscence about my life is written on it in gorgeous script. 


Me too, cake. Me too.  

So, speaking of fatigued cakes, Joan Collins breathily asks for a gin from her vaguely germanic caretaker, which reminds me of an unrelated Teutonic Titwillow. 

Then Joan Collins looks longingly into a hand mirror before expiring offscreen, and someone says, "Her heart gave out on her, Betsy. She's dead.", and I totally get it. I'm gonna check my look before checking out, too. I absolutely refuse to go gentle into that good night without looking my very best, although I might swoon on a chaise lounge for effect.

Joan's very watchable, and I almost wish I could've seen more of her performance, but that would probably mean watching more of this movie, which plays like a low-budget Aaron Spelling Production of Donny and Marie's (minus Marie) Matt Houston's Gone With The Wind, and wow, that's sounds unappealing, and it was appalling to type out in words.

Speaking of Donny and Marie, some more movie happens although I kind of wished it wouldn't, and suddenly Donny Osmond plays a wounded soldier being nursed back to health in the brothel. He gives a breathy, dramatic performance that bewilders and has a chaste kiss with Blair from Facts Of Life. 

If you've been wondering why Donny Osmond never got more dramatic roles, this movie might be the reason. 

Speaking of the movie, more of it happens, unfortunately. The livery stable burns, pistols are pulled from décolletage, there's some target practice in ruffled gowns to stretch for time, and soldiers look off pensively into the distance. The print I watched stuttered and skipped during a key scene which culminated in Three's Company's Priscilla Barnes throwing her body across the freshly dug grave of Joan Collins' character, and it honestly couldn't have been more perfect. 

I don't blame you one bit, Priscilla Barnes. Not one bit.

The sets look a lot like Knott's Berry Farm, and the music sounds like what would happen if Charlie's Angels was set in Gettysburg. Speaking of Knott's Berry Farm, there's a not-quite-thrilling action sequence with cowboys falling off horses, soldiers being dragged by horses, and horses jumping over wagons with pistol-packin' Old West prostitutes cowering under them, and let's just say it all seemed a little less than genuine. 

Speaking of something being a little bit country and a little bit rock-n-roll, this bit needs another Donny and Marie clip. If there's anything people clamor for in their movie reviews of Joan Collins, if it isn't Donny and Marie, then I don't know what. Do we have another clip? Oh yes. Yes we do.

Like I said, in the print I watched, Joan Collins is in the movie for 30 seconds. That's ok, sometimes actors can make a huge impact in a very brief appearance, like that time on Will and Grace when Joan Collins stuffed tacos in her face and was covered in guacamole.

It takes a lot of bravery to go against type and allow yourself to be seen outside an image of glamour and sophistication for laughs, so this appearance in Will and Grace always stuck with me. 

Anyway, The Wild Women Of Chastity Gulch was hardly wild. It was filled with horses, transient southern accents, and plunging necklines, and it should be avoided. 

Thanks again to RealweegieMidget Reviews for allowing me to participate in the Joan Collins Blogathon!

Looking forward to the next one!

I've got a few videos over at Youtube through Cultured Vultures if you like these sorts of reviews, so check 'em out if you want.

Friday, January 29, 2021

The Amityville Horror (1979)


As always, I'm honored and thrilled to be invited again to participate in Realweegiemidget's blogathons, and amazed that I'm allowed to since I rarely follow the rules and have a chronic tardiness problem. These blogathons are fun and interesting, which again makes me wonder why I'm allowed to participate because I'm neither fun nor interesting, and I ramble on barely acknowledging the film I'm supposed to review. But what's done is done, no-take-backs, so everyone will just have to suffer through my post. Thanks to Realweegiemidget, and away we go!

 The Amityville Horror

Oops. Someone replaced my image of the movie poster for The Amityville Horror and left this inspirational quote about home, and I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. Cheesy inspirational quotes make me feel a little nauseous. Let's try it again.

Oh no. Someone replaced my image of an inspirational quote with a rustic sign created from recycled pallets emblazoned with the inspirational quote "Live Laugh Love", and I'm feeling slightly woozy, and it certainly does not go with my personal home decor esthetic, which has been described as "dim", "cave-like", "a discount perpetual seance", and "like a morose gothic circus filled with possessed marionettes", and those quotes were from my own children. 

Ah, that's more like it. Anyway, let's try this again.

The Amityville Horror

Okeedoke. So, Barbra Streisand's husband and Superman's girlfriend have either the best or worst real estate agent of all time. I mean, the real estate agent suggests that the "charming" Colonial, with 3 full bedrooms, a spacious kitchen with original hardware, 3 floors plus a basement and an attic which could be converted into a playroom, a wood-burning fireplace, a sunporch, and a cottage and boathouse, says it's "a fixer-upper that could be fun!". I have my doubts about that. Lemme break this down in excruciating detail.

Before we begin that bit, if you've been following my blog, and for crying out loud, why would you do such a thing? I rarely have anything nice to say. Anyway, you'll know that I recently sold Deathrage Tower and downsized, and I can feel for the poor Lutzes, because I also moved into a place that needed a bit of TLC. Now the house the Lutzes were moving into had a lot more problems than mine had. For instance, I abruptly stopped the previous owners from installing a laminate countertop and insisted they put in black granite, while the Lutzes needed to give their house a good scrub from top to bottom.

Far be it from me to judge, you know. It is certainly not my place to criticize the way someone keeps house, but the Lutzes need to crack open a fresh bottle of cleanser and apply a little elbow grease or a blowtorch to those grimy light switches and doorknobs. I would have pointed out every bit of grime and would not have signed off on the final walkthrough until it was spotless. 

Seriously, would you just look at that wallpaper? Yikes. Tear it all down. And don't get me started on that wall of tacky gold-gilt mirrors in the bedroom. It could be easily painted over. Might I suggest Pantone's Colors of The Year? The gray will be a nice neutral base palette, and the yellow would lighten the atmosphere of the house and give it a touch of needed cheer. 

And they really have a tough situation as far as indoor pests go. 

It could happen to anyone. During our house hunt, we found a place we really liked, but there was a visible mousetrap in the cellar. I walked away from the negotiations. Don't misunderstand me, I'm glad I saw it. But the house should have been properly staged for sale, and it should have been sparkling clean. Your house inspector would be helpful in letting you know if you have a vermin problem before you move in, and a nice interior decorator could help you choose curtains that will keep the neighbors and passersby from seeing you in your delicates.

To be certain there were no errant odors when staging my old home for sale, I made sure all our fabrics were freshly laundered, floors were mopped, and surfaces wiped down. I used an oil diffuser to fill the house with a light scent reminiscent of baked goods, and vases with fresh flowers were in most rooms. 

We ripped out the carpet in our new home and installed laminate flooring because we have pets, and we had to do extensive repairs to the subfloor and joists due to age. The floor is still somewhat uneven. This can cause furniture to rock. We also created a courtyard patio and repaired our fencing. We certainly wouldn't want our pets roaming loose or having unwelcome animal visitors to our home. 

Toilet troubles are no laughing matter. A couple of weeks after we moved in, the downstairs toilet seal started leaking. Having done a little minor plumbing fixes in my time, I rolled out to the home improvement store and purchased a new valve kit. Unbeknownst to me, there are two types, and we have the Mansfield type. I know, right? It would have been helpful to know beforehand so I could have saved myself two trips. So when doing these kinds of repairs, make sure you know which type you have before you drive out to save yourself some time. Another helpful hint, wear gloves when installing a new valve kit, because a degraded seal can stain your hands.

And finally, stains can be difficult to remove. A little hydrogen peroxide can remove a lot of tough stains, particularly in high-traffic areas like stairways.

So I hope these tips will help you if you're selling your home or looking to buy, and will help you solve some of those tough situations that arise after you move in.

Oops, I totally forgot I'm not Norm Abram, and I'm supposed to be reviewing The Amityville Horror. If I had a nickel for every time that happened, I'd have 35 cents. Anyway, like the Lutz's decor, it was pretty lousy.

Thanks again to ReelWeegieMidgetReviews for allowing me to participate in the Home Sweet Home Blogathon! Stay tuned for the Joan Collins Blogathon later this year!

Friday, December 11, 2020

Cher...and Other Fantasies

Oops-a-daisy. I accidentally forgot to blog for 18 months. How embarrassing.

I used to be one of those bloggers who would look at a blog that has been abandoned and thought to myself, "Why, I enjoy blogging so much and giving random strangers a piece of my mind, I'd never let my blog go silent",  and look what's happened. I totally shut up, and I never do that, even when begged to.

Once again, I'm completely out of my element and late to the party, and since that's been my MO since almost forever, I should be used to it by now. The basic gist of my blog is to critically examine some lesser known films that often hover at the lower ends of IMDB's Bottom 100, and by "critically examine" I really mean "barely pay attention to while gorging on Halloween-themed snack cakes". 

Over the past year or two, Gill at ReelWeegieMidget Reviews has been gracious enough to allow me to participate in her always entertaining blogathons, even though I'm often tardy and unfocused. I'm grateful to be included, even though I'm ill-equipped to give accomplished actors Lee Grant, Jeff Goldblum, and now, Shelley Winters the spotlight they deserve, when inevitably I somehow manage to make every blogpost about me, go off subject, meander about on unrelated side-quests, and when I finish the post a year and a half after I said I would. Oops.

So, before I get started, I wanted to thank Gill for everything, and away we go.

Cher...And Other Fantasies

The first thing you might notice once you start this grainy transfer from VHS (with vintage commercials!) on Youtube is that this variety TV program from 1979 features Cher undergoing 19 costume changes. Maybe you might not notice, because the image is terrible, she's enveloped in dreamlike, dry ice fog, and she's covered in thousands of pounds of sequins. This sequence must have taken weeks to shoot and thirty trips to the wig store. 

Allow me just a moment to give everyone a little history lesson. Thousand of years ago during television's infancy and before we could hit the "Skip Ad" button, TV programs consisted of about 6 minutes of actual entertainment and 24 minutes of advertisements, and nearly all of them sang to you. Even Egg McMuffins had a theme song.

Anyway, Cher goes to a party in a labyrinthine apartment building and meets Elliot Gould, who skips. After some awkward dialogue where words seem to have been pulled randomly from the Mad Hatter's hat, Cher journeys from one vignette to another in a vaguely Alice In Wonderland-kind of way although you wish she wouldn't. 

In the vignette entitled Misery Loves Company, Shelley Winters tries to sell Cher "1, 2, 3 and 4 hanky tragedies" amidst canned laughter. After some awkward prodding the pair recreates "Withering" Heights, and Cher gives Shelly Winters acting lessons. Shelly Winters get her skirt blown up by a fan mimicking the wiley, windy moors. They shove each other's faces in some dirt. They seem to be good sports about these indignities, and they have a genuine chemistry.

While we're on the subject of Withering Heights, allow me to take a moment to share this video of Noel Fielding recreating the Red Dress Version of Kate Bush's music video for Wuthering Heights for no good reason at all other than it being possibly the best thing that's ever happened ever.

Speaking of shag haircuts, pointed chelsea boots, and The Great British Bake Off, Cher performs Bob Seger's "Feel Like a Number" while playing unconvincing air guitar and it looks suspiciously like she's never seen anyone play a guitar, let alone marry a guitarist. 

Before we discuss the next vignette and while we're on the subject of black satin pants with suspenders, I'd like to take a moment to post a video by Moog synthesizer composer Mart Garson to get you warmed up.

Ok, now that we got that out of the way, the next vignette in Cher...and Other Fantasies is a spectacular Red Shoes-inspired roller skate ballet with classical music performed on an analog modular synthesizer, and by "spectacular" I mean, well, I don't exactly know what I mean. It's a thing, and it exists.

Cher seems to be a supporting actor in her own show. This was conceived a few years away from her serious acting with Silkwood, and it seems like someone involved just wants her to shut up and sing. Cher...and Other Fantasies was nominated for an Emmy for Outstanding Costume Design, and considering how many costumes there are, I'm genuinely surprised it didn't win. Oh yeah, speaking of "costumes", Andy Kauffman makes an appearance as Adam while speaking with his Latka voice wearing leafy pantaloons while playing basketball in the Garden of Eden while Cher in a dual role lounges in a tree wearing snake print and making some risqué jokes about Kaufman's figs. 

There were an awful lot of whiles in that sentence, and it was just awful. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Speaking of figs, the video I watched contained vintage commercials from when Fruit Of The Looms cost $1.07 a pair. 

Brutal, nonsensical, and tedious, Cher...and Other Fantasies is an extravaganza of sequins and cheese and is recommended if you like stuff that was extravagantly costumed by Bob Mackie and stuff that sucks.