Rebecca: This is so bad it's almost good.
Enid: This is so bad it's gone past good and back to bad again.
"Live a Little, Love a Little" (1968) is one of those rare films so bad that it has gone past good and back to bad. To its entertainment value it has a surreal lameness that makes you stop and contemplate things like how a group of highly paid industry professionals could have produced something so staggeringly horrible.
Granted it nicely illustrates my Elvis movie theory that the closer Elvis got to an ocean in a film the worse the film. In "Live a Little, Love a Little" Elvis plays a character who is a blend of Tony Curtis in "Don't Make Waves" (1967) and Jerry Lewis in "The Big Mouth (1967). Apparently those two films served as inspiration for this disaster. This is not a pleasant thing but its many mockfest moments can be perversely amusing. Most mockfest worthy is the horribly staged fight scene at the newspaper, which is both inexplicable and unnecessary; something that seems to be scotched-taped into the story because Elvis otherwise looks like a total wimp.
At least "Live a Little, Love a Little" has some Elvis songs. Of course those other films have Sharon Tate and Jeannine Riley, effortlessly sizzling actress. "Live a Little, Love a Little" has to rely on Michelle Carey, who manically works to get your attention like a one-trick pony mad for a carrot. But she is so hopelessly sterile that a viewer keeps wishing she would put on more clothes.
Carey heads up what is Elvis' worst ever supporting cast, none of them capable of generating a laugh or serving the audience identification function. I suspect that he lived in fear of being upstaged by someone with comedic talent or a trendy image as by 1968 the world had moved on and The King was still stuck in a Patti Page 50's time warp.
Enid: This is so bad it's gone past good and back to bad again.
"Live a Little, Love a Little" (1968) is one of those rare films so bad that it has gone past good and back to bad. To its entertainment value it has a surreal lameness that makes you stop and contemplate things like how a group of highly paid industry professionals could have produced something so staggeringly horrible.
Granted it nicely illustrates my Elvis movie theory that the closer Elvis got to an ocean in a film the worse the film. In "Live a Little, Love a Little" Elvis plays a character who is a blend of Tony Curtis in "Don't Make Waves" (1967) and Jerry Lewis in "The Big Mouth (1967). Apparently those two films served as inspiration for this disaster. This is not a pleasant thing but its many mockfest moments can be perversely amusing. Most mockfest worthy is the horribly staged fight scene at the newspaper, which is both inexplicable and unnecessary; something that seems to be scotched-taped into the story because Elvis otherwise looks like a total wimp.
At least "Live a Little, Love a Little" has some Elvis songs. Of course those other films have Sharon Tate and Jeannine Riley, effortlessly sizzling actress. "Live a Little, Love a Little" has to rely on Michelle Carey, who manically works to get your attention like a one-trick pony mad for a carrot. But she is so hopelessly sterile that a viewer keeps wishing she would put on more clothes.
Carey heads up what is Elvis' worst ever supporting cast, none of them capable of generating a laugh or serving the audience identification function. I suspect that he lived in fear of being upstaged by someone with comedic talent or a trendy image as by 1968 the world had moved on and The King was still stuck in a Patti Page 50's time warp.