Where to begin in discussing the rococo lunacy of this ill-fated project? Would it be Tennessee Williams' overripe script ("My heart beats blood that is not my blood, but the blood of anonymous donors")? Elizabeth Taylor's screeching performance ("S*** on your mother!", she yells at a clumsy servant)? Richard Burton's near-catatonic recitation of the title, or his reading of Coleridge's "Xanadu" (which Taylor interrupts with a "HUH?")?
Director John Waters' favorite movie (he calls it "failed art" and, thus, "perfect") is a non-stop laugh riot, and since "Boom!" is not available on video, you owe it to yourself to catch it on screen on those rare opportunities when it is presented. (The LA County Museum of Art recently screened it as part of its celebration of the Noel Coward centenary -- despite the fact that Mr. Coward appears in it for about 10 minutes -- and it drew hearty laughs throughout its seemingly interminable running time.)
So loony, so overdone, so 1968, this one's a camp classic.
Director John Waters' favorite movie (he calls it "failed art" and, thus, "perfect") is a non-stop laugh riot, and since "Boom!" is not available on video, you owe it to yourself to catch it on screen on those rare opportunities when it is presented. (The LA County Museum of Art recently screened it as part of its celebration of the Noel Coward centenary -- despite the fact that Mr. Coward appears in it for about 10 minutes -- and it drew hearty laughs throughout its seemingly interminable running time.)
So loony, so overdone, so 1968, this one's a camp classic.