bronty Review of Doctors' Wives

Doctors' Wives (1971)

Like the demon spawn of Jacqueline Susann and Harold Robbins!

[2/10 · 8 May 2023]

This turgid, sordid melodrama - which I'm sure was really salacious in its day! - is a campy laff-fest, thanks to dialogue that in no way bears any resemblance to actual conversations anyone has ever had in real life. With this all-star cast, you'd be forgiven for thinking you've stumbled on a hidden gem; unfortunately, there are few bright moments to be found among the stars on display; only Dyan Cannon, who may be top-billed but is really little more than a cameo, albeit one that drives the entire movie, rips into her too-small part with gusto, uttering the deathless opening line, "God, I'm so horny!" As her husband, John Colicos - perhaps best known as the major villain in the "Battlestar Galactica" film and 1978 series - is his usual camp self, delivering his lines as if he's about to twirl his moustache; so arch is his persona and acting style that, well, it's nearly impossible to believe that he is: 1) married to Dyan Cannon, 2) so upset with being cheated on that he is driven to murder, and 3) heterosexual, though gayness DOES rear its head much later on in the film, and this time it's (gasp!) A WOMAN, and that woman is Rachel Roberts, whose character is icy-frigid and unhappily married to Gene Hackman, who later beats her with a rolled-up newspaper upon hearing of her lesbian affair (though, in keeping with the sordid quality of everything on screen, she insists she was pretty much coerced into doing so AND, following that newspaper beating, rediscovers her heterosexuality and desire for her husband. Just like real life. Janice Rule is also unhappily married, this time to Richard Crenna, who skips making sexy times with his missus so that he can carry on an affair with Diana Sands, who is not only black but also has a very sick son, for that added bit of pathos. Rule, an actress I've never cared for much, is a vacuum here, adding little to the proceedings, despite shooting up, getting drunk, and rolling around on the bedroom floor in an awkward and rather hilarious attempt to seduce her hubby. Cara Williams is the drunk who is also The Voice of Reason among these Ladies Who Lunch, and she is divorced from Carroll O'Connor; these two provide just about the only sweetness you're going to find in this misbegotten flick. There's also George Gaynes, who spends the majority of the film in a coma, and the actress who plays his wife is stiff as can be, unable to carry across the occasional zinger given her character. And then there's the resident Lothario, who beds as many women as possible at this hospital, the least of whom is surely a female student who makes audio recordings of all of her sexual conquests; the part, and the actress, come across as a weak, desperate take-off on Goldie Hawn, minus all the allure and talent. The gentleman who plays her latest toy is among the very worst actors to ever be in a major film; his attempts at sounding 'hip' - saying 'baby' to punctuate nearly every misogynistic line - are feeble at best. This disaster wants it every which way it can: soapy melodrama...searing comment on the wealthy...an attack on modern marriages, while simultaneously celebrating them...flickerings of nudity that fail to be even remotely titillating...and it fails at everything. While few in the cast are an out-and-out embarrassment, as mentioned only Dyan Cannon is memorable and escapes with the best lines. This was based on what I can only assume is an equally tawdry book NOT written by either Susann OR Robbins, though each moment of this movie practically SCREAMS their names. I only wish it were much more fun than it turns out to be.