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Russ Meyer, you gotta love him. When you're talking about true outsider artists or demented "auteurs" in American film culture, he's near the top. No question about it. This is because he not only directed movies his own way, he also cast, produced, shot, edited and distributed them (and to this day his family still owns all the film rights)! Maybe the only person in film history you can compare him to—in terms of complete ownership and control and productive individualism—is John Cassavetes.
Russ Meyer, of course, was a sexploitation filmmaker. That was his medium—and how he chose to express his creativity. So his films are always deeply rooted in sexuality—some might say twisted sexuality (as if there might be any other kind) -- the battle between the sexes, issues of masculinity—or the lack of it (as in Lorna, Common Law Cabin, even Beyond the Valley of the Dolls). Often dissatisfied, uncontrollable, if not overbearing, women were at the center of some disruption. The male terror of being ineffectual, upended, cuckolded, and shamed often loomed large. In Russ Meyer films, amply endowed (and often over-sexualized) actresses were cast as the stars. The men—regardless of how large they were, or how hard they tried assert their manhood—always seemed to be diminished, to be rendered helpless in the presence of these haughty, intimidating females.
His first success, The Immoral Mr. Teas (1959), launched a subculture—a sexploitation subgenre—"nudie-cuties." And soon other filmmakers and producers would join in, contributing their own variations (while also cashing in), including Hershel Gordon Lewis, David F. Friedman, and Doris Wishman. Sexploitation cinema would find its strongest auteur in Russ Meyer, whose films were always gorgeously shot and energetically (some might say kinetically) edited. As artifacts of cinematography his films could be appreciated as museum-worthy art—and his films have had retrospectives at institutions like M.O.M.A. in New York City.
Nearly all of his films were self-produced and self-financed. This is important in understanding the creative bubble that Russ Meyer lived in and the eccentricity of his work. He was an outsider and operated far from mainstream Hollywood and the European art film leanings of NYC. After the success of The Immoral Mr. Teas (which was shot for 24K and would gross over 150K), he was able to bankroll his own projects with little outside interference.
Now was this a blessing or a curse, artistically? Some might suggest that living in a state where no one challenges creative decisions is not always the optimal situation. Great artistry, it might be argued, often emerges through give and take, through conflict and creative friction —sometimes even from negotiating compromise. A strong independent producer—just like a committed book editor—can help in contributing a fresh, outside perspective in shaping and defining a project—allowing for a work of narrative art to be the truest manifestation of itself. The fantasy of a lone, inspired genius taking dictation from God, producing fully mature and polished first drafts—is mostly that: a fantasy.
Russ Meyer's narratives are not always the most linear and coherent. Even he was honest enough to admit to that. Writing and structure were not his strong suit. And he often employed a number of screenwriters to contribute to his films while he busied himself with the look of the movie. The most famous of these writers, of course, was tabloid film critic, Roger Ebert.
Ebert (often using a pseudonym, so as not be associated with films that were rated X) and Meyer would actually work on four of his most over-the-top projects—each more progressively demented—Beyond The Valley of The Dolls (1970), Up! (1976), Who Killed Bambi? (1977; never completed), and Beneath the Valley of the Ultra-Vixens (1979).
In his life, Russ Meyer had the opportunity to produce two studio films (both for 20th Century Fox), which included Beyond The Valley of The Dolls and the rarely seen The Seven Minutes (1971). After that he was no longer welcome by studio heads who openly disparaged their association with Meyer, this pornographer-cum-pervert (while, of course, perfectly happy to collect any cash he made for the studio.)
Was Russ Meyer a pervert? He would admit to such in an interview with John Waters, saying it was "easier" just to answer yes to that question. Was Russ Meyer a pornographer? Not by post-'70s sex film standards: he never made a true porno.
Was Russ Meyer a pervert? He would admit to such in an interview with John Waters, saying it was "easier" just to answer yes to that question. Was Russ Meyer a pornographer? Not by post-'70s sex film standards: he never made a true porno.
The era of commercially viable "sexploitation" came to a close after the first real XXX feature appeared in 1971 with Howard Ziehm's Mona. The final nail in the coffin for '60s-style sexploitation was the surreal success of Deep Throat, which signaled in the "porn chic" era. And while many sexploitation filmmakers—including Radley Metzger, Doris Wishman, Roberta Findlay—slid into hardcore, Russ Meyer resisted, even though he could've made huge money. In some ways—much like other sexploitation figures of his day, most notable fetish artist Eric Stanton—he was a product of a different time, emerging from the era of burlesque, where larger-than-life voluptuous women and the "tease"—as well as the unspoken "promise" of sexual pleasures to come—played a big part.
Also of Interest:
Bad Girl Cinema!
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Did you enjoy this blog?
Support this author by purchasing his work: here.
“Richard Perez has the ears of the angels—lend him yours.”
—Barry Gifford, author: WILD AT HEART, PERDITA DURANGO
“Perez's is an exciting talent and his work goes far beyond most of what is published today.”
—Henry Flesh, author: MICHAEL and the Lambda Literary Award-winner,
MASSAGE
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Permanent Obscurity: Or A Cautionary Tale
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