LIPSTICK (1976)--Directed by Lamont Johnson. Stars Margaux Hemingway, Mariel Hemingway, Chris Sarandon, Anne Bancroft. I’ve seen more than my fair share of garbage movies. Most of them are independently made on a low-budget by actors and filmmakers on the lower fringe of Hollywood society--exploitation movies made originally for drive-ins, grindhouses or lower ends of double-bills. But some of the wildest and weirdest come directly from major Hollywood studios; these are usually the most wrongheaded too, covered in a level of camp that films from outside the system usually can’t touch. This is because the studios like to have their cake and eat it too. While independents like AIP or New World or Nu Image are content to splash trash on the screen, the majors like to think they’re above that sort of thing, even though they worship the big dough exploitation pictures can earn. So they frequently attempt to have it both ways--make a trashy exploitation picture, but dress it up with big stars, expensive production values, and a relevant social message or subtext that they think will make their film more important. This almost never works; when a filmmaker thinks he’s above the audience he wants to reach, the ballgame’s over before it’s begun.

LIPSTICK is a classic example of this type of outlandish camp from Paramount, the studio that also delivered the even more ridiculous MANDINGO and DRUM around the same time. Director Lamont Johnson, an Emmy winner for perceptive made-for-TV movies such as THE EXECUTION OF PRIVATE SLOVIK, and David Rayfiel, a good writer whose work includes THE THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR, are juggling material clearly not in their wheelhouse, earnestly attempting to present a sensitive tale of rape and its lingering effects on its victims, but presenting it in such a preposterous and frequently tasteless manner that it inspires giggles rather than shock.

High-priced supermodel Chris McCormick (Margaux Hemingway in her film debut) is raped in her luxury apartment by the seemingly meek Gordon Stuart (Sarandon, just off his DOG DAY AFTERNOON Oscar nod), her 13-year-old sister Kathy’s (Mariel Hemingway, also making her first film) music teacher. She presses charges and is represented in court by Assistant District Attorney Carla Biondi (Bancroft), but to no avail. Stuart’s defense lawyer claims the sex was consensual, and that the bruises, the blood, the destruction of her property, the bindings, that Chris asked for all of it to happen. Chris’ sexual fantasies, her current relationships, even her profession are autopsied in open court, as the defense implies that a cry of rape from a woman who has experienced and enjoyed oral sex shouldn’t be believed. Unconvincingly, the jury buys Stuart’s sexist, outdated defense and moves to acquit.

Stuart continues to teach music to young Catholic schoolgirls, but Chris’ career suffers, and she and Kathy plan a trip to Colorado. But Chris has one more job left to fulfill, modeling fashion in a studio located in an unfinished mall. Kathy becomes bored during the shoot, and wanders upstairs to explore the mostly empty office structure, only to discover, through an implausible coincidence, Stuart practicing a recital with his students. After the girls leave, he spots Kathy and initiates a grossly inappropriate conversation with her. She becomes frightened and flees, but Stuart chases her through the building, eventually trapping her in a circular corridor and raping her as he did her older sister.

If you think LIPSTICK has already reached the peak of its tastelessness, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet. Finding a beaten Kathy in her tattered clothes, Chris explodes internally, rushing into the parking lot--still wearing the expensive evening gown she was modeling--and grabbing a loaded (!) hunting rifle from her car, a weapon up to now has never been seen or referenced. She dashes across the lot on foot to head off Stuart’s getaway, plants her feet, and pops a couple of caps through his windshield, sending his car careening into a curb and flipping over. As he climbs from the wreckage a bloody mess, Chris fires several more shots, one of them piercing his scrotum. Then, in what must be the most rushed, ill-conceived wrap-up in Paramount’s history, we’re told through voiceover narration that Chris has been found not guilty of murder, despite the overwhelming evidence against her.

As absurd as the script is, it likely could have still been fun if not for Johnson’s heavy-handed approach. Props to Margaux and Sarandon for performing the movie’s graphic rape scene without body doubles, as the violence of the scene likely left a few bruises on the actors, physical and emotional. Although I’m sure Johnson wished the audience to feel the pain and the humiliation of Chris’ rape by portraying it in such a realistic manner, his exploitation of Hemingway, by having her nude, provides mixed signals--are we to be horrified or titillated? Instead of feeling disgust by Stuart’s crime, we feel uncomfortable at Johnson’s treatment of his star.

That Hemingway is miscast doesn’t help the film any, since a more experienced actress may have been able to provide the film with essential emotional weight through her strong performance. Margaux is a vapid performer who also happens to have been unfortunately saddled with an unusual speaking voice that calls unneeded attention to itself. Contrast her work here with Bancroft, who is broadly slumming in an unrestrained performance that fails to hide the weaknesses and improbabilities in Rayfiel’s dialogue. Sarandon is so unrepentantly creepy that I’m forced to conclude that he did a good job, milking the slime of his character for more than it’s worth, and little Mariel is so good that it’s surprising in retrospect her career hasn’t been even more successful than it is.

LIPSTICK is ridiculous sleaze alright, but not in the upper echelon of what-were-they-thinking studio thrillers like MANDINGO or THE COLOR OF NIGHT. It still contains traces of an even dumber movie, including a weird scene of a naked Sarandon making a late-night prank phone call to Margaux that is never referred to and an odd supporting turn by Perry King (hey, he was in MANDINGO!) that feels like most of it was left in the editing room. LIPSTICK is one of those movies that, if it were any worse, would also be better. Also with Robin Gammill, John Bennett Perry and Francesco as Francesco.

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