Movies |
The Love Machine, directed by Jack Haley
Jr.
By
Published: Jan 01, 2004
Category:
Drama
As Jacqueline Susann was writing "The Love Machine" in the late ’60s, legendary TV exec James Aubrey called her. "Jackie, make me mean," he said. "Make me a son-of-a-bitch."
And so she did.
K nown by showbiz insiders as "The Smiling Cobra," Aubrey became the model for Susann’s ruthless hero-villain, Robin Stone, a man who uses flattery, cunning and sex to take over one of the nation’s top TV networks. Susann sent Aubrey the pre-publication galleys of her book. She never heard from Aubrey again. "I can’t imagine why," she remarked to Nora Ephron, "Can you?"
If Aubrey was pissed by Susann’s characterization of him and the blockbuster success of the book’s sales, he must have been thrilled by the movie version that came out two years later — for it was universally dismissed. Andrew Sarris called it a "dull stinker," Lewis Lapham listed it as an example of cultural decline, and audiences wanted nothing to do with it.
More than 40 years later, TV has taken over the world, and "The Love Machine" can be respected for its dark depiction of a culture enthralled and in some ways deeply wounded by television. "Network," released just five years after "The Love Machine," is a greater work — indeed, a masterpiece —but in some ways it shouts its message while "The Love Machine" works with more subtlety.
Both movies follow the lives of ambitious villains who have a stunning mythological dimension. "Network" has the femme fatale Diana Christensen (played by Faye Dunaway), who, like her namesake, is a frigid goddess of the hunt. "The Love Machine" has Robin Stone (John Phillip Law), who is not much more than just a depiction of "The Smiling Cobra" — he is Susann’s vision of Satan, the fallen angel who becomes the master of hell, or in this case, program director for a major TV network.
The gorgeous John Phillip Law, who was the blind angel Pygar in "Barbarella" (1968), is perfect for the role. Some have mistakenly criticized his performance as "wooden," but they haven’t realized he should appear stiff, flat and emotionless because he’s amoral and inhuman. In t he movie’s theme song, Dionne Warwick speaks of Stone’s "easy smile" and "loving stride" and "icy eyes that help to hide the demons dwelling deep inside," a description that Law personifies without flaw. He’s the beautiful sadist, dangerous, cruel and irresistible.
Halfway through the movie, I wondered if Stanley Kubrick had "Love Machine" in mind when he made his final film, "Eyes Wide Shut," for not only does Cruise’s detached, stiff performance look like Law’s, but both films share a scene that’s almost identical. The hero, wearing a trenchcoat while walking in New York on a crisp wintry night, is in a kind of existential daze brought about by sexual drama at home. He’s approached by a prostitute who takes him back to her place, but he declines sex once he’s in her room.
There the two films depart in a fascinating manner. In "Eyes Wide Shut", the hero politely pays the prostitute, then goes home, but in "The Love Machine," he goes on a vicious rampage, beating the woman senseless — and this attack is just the first instance in the movie in which a woman is assaulted. Matched up, it would seem that Kubrick’s vision of sex and power is less violent than Jackie Susann’s!
What is most interesting about this movie is how Susann’s metaphor of television as a "love machine" is played out in Law’s enigmatic performance. His bisexual allure and dark charisma draw everyone his way, just like television, which seduces men and women alike. But he’s also a sadist — and isn’t our connection to television, at bottom, sadomasochistic?
Television: a million small infernos boxed within, one of the most powerful and dangerous machines known to mankind. And, as Susann shows, the person who controls it controls us in a special kind of hell. Yet we still invite it into our homes, even though it leaves us unconscious and alone, eager to turn it on another day.
To order "The Love Machine" on VHS from Amazon.com, click here.
