Once upon a time, some friends of mine and I started another review blog for stuff that wasn't horror-related. Long story short, it didn't really go anywhere.
CUT TO: now! A cyberpal recently asked why I haven't yet to review Eyes of Laura Mars, and I though to myself, "Didn't I review that already? I think I did. Am I crazy? Am I imagining things? Things I've done, things I've seen? Was my stint as a cast member of The Golden Girls also merely a figment of my imagination? Where am I? Did I really buy this shirt? It's awful."
Then I remember that I had, in fact, reviewed Eyes of Laura Mars for that other now-defunct blog. In the interests of humanity and laziness, I'm re-posting it here. Rejoice!
The 1978 mystery thriller flick Eyes of Laura Mars has been on my list of "must see"s forever, and when I saw Laura's eerie glowing eyes looking at me from the shelf at my local library last night, I decided to make the leap from dreams to reality. Was the film worth the long long wait? Sure, I suppose. Why not?
Faye Dunaway stars as the titular Laura Mars, a glamourous and edgy photographer whose glamourous, edgy photographs are pushing the boundaries taste. Though they often depict murders and crime scenes, Laura's photographs are nevertheless used in cool, hip advertising, forcing the audience to confront everyday violence and the ways in which society celebrates heinous crimes. It's fuckin' deep, man...her photos really make you think, you know? It's art, baby. You probably don't get it.
Laura is soon haunted by fuzzy psychic visions of the brutal murders of her closest friends and associates. Because she's seeing the crimes through the eyes of the killer, she has no idea who the perp is...this means it could be anyone! Anyone at all! Maybe even...Laura herself. Again...deep.
Eyes of Laura Mars is firmly entrenched in its era: the decadent late 70s. The first giveaway that this is a 70s flick is the fact that it's got its own theme song: Love Theme from Eyes of Laura Mars (Prisoner), sung by none other than Barbra Streisand. That's right, this is no B- or C-level theme song by, you know, Kiki Dee or something. Laura Mars hauls out the big guns straight off. Man, every movie from the 70s had its own damn theme song. The only hold out on that trend are the James Bond flicks. I say we bring it back, dammit! I want to see Love Theme from The Hot Chick (Pillow Fights and Strange New Feelings) sung by Marilyn McCoo sprawled across the screen. Are you listening to me, Hollywood? I certainly hope you are.
Oh, honey, the stars in this movie are mega-watt! MEGA-WATT! Behind the scenes we've got a script and story by horror maestro John Carpenter and competent, confident direction from Irvin Kershner- the man in the director's chair for a little something called The Empire Strikes Back. On screen, first and foremost we've got Faye Dunaway. I love Faye Dunaway. I mean...Network! Bonnie and Clyde! Chinafuckingtown, y'all. Tinseltown simply does not produce the caliber of woman equal to your Faye Dunaways anymore. While Ms Dunaway's presence is certainly enough to get me to watch a movie, Eyes of Laura Mars also boasts Raul Julia as Laura's creepy ex-husband, Brad Dourif as Laura's creepy chauffeur, Rene Auberjonois as Laura's creepy manager, and Tommy Lee Jones as Laura's sometimes creepy new boyfriend. Yes, he's the least creepy man in Laura's life, he's the lead detective on the case, and he's fallen head over heels for Laura and she's the love of his life immediately. Can you see where this plot is going? Yes...yes you can. I tell you, the Eyes of Stacie Ponder figured this movie out pretty quickly, but it really doesn't matter. Thriller/mysteries are always enjoyable to watch unfold, and Laura Mars is no exception. Besides, one spends a majority of one's viewing time transfixed by Tommy Lee Jones's unibrow, anyway.
Aside from said unibrow, I found quite a few things about Eyes of Laura Mars amusing. First, there's Laura's photographs. While they're talked of as "reprehensible", "ultra violent", and "tasteless", they're really quite tame. In fact, most people probably wouldn't use "reprehensible" to describe a photo of two topless models pulling each other's hair. I certainly would, however, use that word to describe their crimped and frizzy hair.
I also immensely enjoyed the fact that Laura has a driver amd must be driven everywhere in New York City...how rich! How positively glamourous! Eventually, the camera pulls back to reveal the vehicle in which Laura is chauffeured around the city:
It's a fucking battle wagon! Do we think that Sue Ellen Ewing is glamourous driving around Dallas in her battle wagon? No. Everyone else is driving Mercedeseseses and Corvettes and Porsches and we feel bad for Sue Ellen Ewing. Battle wagons are not sexy. Those are some sweet rims, though.
It's difficult for me to be objective about a thriller like Eyes of Laura Mars because I almost always love a thriller like Eyes of Laura Mars. Even if it's (or is that because it's...?) silly and over-the-top and I know whodunit about 5 seconds after they walk onscreen, it's always a good time. Look into my eyes!