2/10
Squishy banana
19 December 2007
Warning: Spoilers
This is a re-imagining of Tarzan in the era of the Soloflex and Apocalypse Now. There's nothing inherently wrong with using films eased moral constraints to portray an erotic side to the Tarzan legend. There's nothing inherently wrong with the premise that Tarzan doesn't speak. There's plenty wrong with suggesting a woman who could get herself to an African jungle in 1910, could be this offensively stupid and plastic. Bo has as few lines as possible when bodies are explored because this movie is merely a video-centerfold, as neutral as possible so that you can project yourself and your lecherous fantasies into the project. If it succeeds anywhere it's in the implication that National Geographic has influenced the way the imagery of a Tarzan movie might be constructed.

It would be ridiculous to argue that movies shouldn't employ the sexual tease as ONE of many tools to draw in viewers. Some really great film moments incorporate it. But this move is at the opposite end of the spectrum - the tease is the only thing going on here; at the time of its release and now. You sit through awful, dumb scenes that offer no interest, and miles of footage of bad acting to drool over the next peek at either of two bodies. Yes... Bo Derek and Miles O'Keeffe are beautiful (um, congratulations on having a working libido.) but if that's your excuse for giving this schlock a good rating you really should visit a porn store and stock up. There's only a hairs-breadth difference between the two formats and (I'm just guessing here) a horny viewer would probably really enjoy the latter. The question is whether a mainstream movie is the best venue in the marketplace for viewers to seek out products that satisfy lust alone.

As a showman, John Derek successfully capitalized on the sexual mystique developed over wife Bo in the movie "10"; and created a media event out of a shallow project whose only merit was the hotness of the two leads. The movie itself was beside the point. He was about 20 years ahead of his time in thinking audiences would applaud him for making an insipid, shallow movie that was only about showcasing superficiality.

As a director, John Derek appears to require only that Mrs. Derek look pleasant, empty and hump-able in every scene. It's hideously shot. The camera placement is annoying. In terms of editing, the entire 'wipe' catalog is exhausted. The credit sequence is garish. And it's a toss-up as to who commits the worse screen offense; Bo Derek who's such a bimbo that she can't even figure out how to play a bimbo, or Richard Harris who shouts every line (as he likes to do) until you want to shoot him. At least with Bo you can imagine her blaming some horny writer for shortchanging her.
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