Picks and Pans Review: My Chauffeur
Hmmmm. We haven't seen Bo Derek for a while. Could it be that she has opened an underground acting school, with a faculty of Charo, Ali MacGraw and Mamie Van Doren? How else to explain Deborah (Valley Girl) Foreman, the substarlet who plays the lead in this limp farce. Surely she could not be this bad an actress by accident; she must have studied at the feet of the immortals. Foreman portrays a free-spirited young woman who gets a job driving for a snobbish limousine company. She drives a little, but what she does mostly are cute reactions. It's as if Phyllis George at her most ingratiating were suddenly revved up to triple charm power. Writer-director David Beaird seems to have the attention span of a gnat. The wit too. A mildly clever opening sequence, in which Foreman gets the job offer while working as a dishwasher, appears to have exhausted Beaird's imagination. The rest of the movie just drones on, through grating bits by Howard (WKRP in Cincinnati) Hesseman, a scene that trashes the talents of the comic magicians Penn and Teller and numerous lifeless transitions. Sam (Flash Gordon) Jones, as a rich man's son, bares most of his hunky self and is not humiliated too much. The sound track has some nice rock 'n' roll by an L.A. -based group called the Wigs. Other than that, there's no humor, style or pace. There's not even anything to satisfy the voyeurs, except some fleeting nudity. Things are not real slick here, folks. The film's distributor, Crown International, even made an erroneous claim that Chauffeur had risen to the top of the U.S. box-office receipts. Things might be rotten in the state of the movies these days, but they're not that rotten. (R)
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