User Reviews

The intention of this documentary was, one would suppose, to show Miss Novak as a smart, exciting star, more than just a pretty face, though the "sex queen" type platitudes are heaped on. But it almost seems like a satire of over the top publicity department drivel. She actually narrates about her moody seriousness, how she (apparently a' la Garbo) needs to spend time all alone at her Malibu Beach mansion, indulging in her so-intense artiness, her poetry and paintings. These include a fuzzy portrait of her mother, that (despite her being still alive enough to also appear later)is supposed to show how her love transcends death(!) After expressing her burning need to be by herself, she cavorts with a central casting mob of artsy beatnik types on the beach. She tells us that she can't get around without the public bothering her because she's so important and famous. She avoids this horror by wearing a brunette wig and movie star shades. To get away from the rabble, she's shown at Macy's department store in New York amidst Christmas sale crowds! That the segment is composed of enough multiple camera set-ups to make a feature film sort of deflates her supposed hunger for anonymity. What to get out of all this? My take is we're seeing a shallow phony going through some scripted pretensions to look deep and interesting.