Here's that critical review:
SYNANON (1965).
In
yet another misguided attempt by Hollywood to understand America's drug use,
this focuses on real-life rehab center Synanon House, where junkies could clean
up and switch to "safe" vices such as chain-smoking cigs. Filmed at their actual
Santa Monica beach-front locale, director Richard Quine bludgeons us with
preachy cliches and a strung-out roster of recovering-addicts. Though its
obvious intent is to send audiences screaming from the horror of narcotics, the
result is a corny b&w soap opera enlivened by its enjoyable cast and grim
'tough-love' attitude. Like any formulaic prison film, its story begins with a
new fish -- in this case, Alex Cord as smack-happy newcomer Zankie Albo.
Stumbling into Synanon's door, he gets the standard cold turkey treatment and
meets the other residents, including Chuck Connors as a long-clean jailbird who
tangled with Zankie in prison; Stella Stevens as curvaceous Joaney, who
abandoned her baby and will undoubtedly fall for this swarthy new cynic; Eartha
Kitt, who admits to once being a swinger, a whore and a vegetable; plus Richard
Conte and Alejandro Rey. Then there's Edmond O'Brien as Synanon's blustery,
ex-alcoholic founder Charles Dederich, who bitches about underfunding, bellows
at screw-ups, and gets the best line when the center receives free tickets to a
nearby amusement park: "Dope fiends at Disneyland?" Wallowing in past fuck-ups
during the house's rap sessions, and shaving the head of anyone who sneaks a
quick high, this place seems like a voluntary prison camp. Will Zankie and
Joaney return to their old spike-in-the-vein ways? With a film this
self-righteous you know the answer is going to be a bummer, and if Synanon's
idea of happiness is a group sing-in of "We're poor little lambs who have lost
our way," pass me a needle, quick!! The actors work hard, as if they've been
conned into believing this hard-hitting slop. Cord's character is an asshole
(but also provides the hippest, junked-up banter), Connors has to restrain
himself since he's playing an ex-bully trying to change his bad-ass ways, and
Stella attempts to act, but only proves that her finest role was as January
1960's Playboy Playmate... But wait! What makes this film unintentionally
hilarious is Synanon's legacy, since the real-life Dederich went nuts in the
mid-'70s. Declaring Synanon a religion (shades of L. Ron Hubbard!), he cut
himself off from society, and instead of sending rehabilitated junkies back into
the world, they were to stay in Synanon forever. Increasingly-wacko Dederich
also created his own "Imperial Marines," while hundreds of his cult followers
were ordered to get vasectomies and divorces! With this crackpot info
undercutting everything on-screen, it's no wonder that this glowing tribute
rarely surfaces.
Rowdy Yates
Senior Research
Fellow
Scottish Addiction Studies
Department of Applied Social
Science
University of Stirling
E: [log in to unmask]
T: 01786
- 467737
W: http://www.dass.stir.ac.uk/sections/scot-ad/
NOTE:
EFTC Conference, 6 - 9 June 2007, Ljubljana, Slovenia
W: http://www.eftc-europe.com/conferentie/
--
The University of Stirling is a university established in Scotland by charter at Stirling, FK9 4LA. Privileged/Confidential Information may be contained in this message. If you are not the addressee indicated in this message (or responsible for delivery of the message to such person), you may not disclose, copy or deliver this message to anyone and any action taken or omitted to be taken in reliance on it, is prohibited and may be unlawful. In such case, you should destroy this message and kindly notify the sender by reply email. Please advise immediately if you or your employer do not consent to Internet email for messages of this kind.