Post by Lucky Dan on Feb 20, 2023 23:48:50 GMT
I knew Peter Cook was once a British troupe comic in an revue named "Beyond the Fringe" which included Dudley Moore, and that he and Dudley were then partners for a while, and I knew the story of how Peter once saved David Frost from drowning, only to wonder if he should apologize for it. (Peter believed Frost copied his deadpan interviewer character and used it as a means of presenting himself as a serious journalist.) I had seen snippets of Peter and Dudley together here and there, but I had never seen any of their pieces as a complete whole, until now.
Bedazzled, or as the title credit has it, "Stanley Donen's Bedazzled" was written by Peter and based on "an idea by" Peter and Dudley. An idea credit might also have gone to Goethe, because we soon learn Peter and Dudley got their idea from the centuries-old Faust legend of a scholarly old man who became bored and unhappy with his divinity studies and made a bargain with the devil's emissary, Mephistopheles, for a superior level of worldly knowledge, with all the pleasures and the power he believed would come with it. Peter's script satirizes not the legend but modern life, using the legend as a template.
Peter plays the Mephistopheles part, but he's not an emissary of the dethroned angel, he's the real thing. He uses the alias George Spiggot, a name Peter favored since it was used in what he always felt was his best sketch, written when he was 18, about a one-legged man auditioning for the part of Tarzan. Spiggot is quite a likeable devil, the sort of friend we might have who is fun to hang with even though it usually ends with trouble, and we always say, "Never again." Spiggot has hopes of one day returning to his seat at the right hand of God, with Whom he is engaged in a race to claim a hundred billion souls.
Dudley's character, named Stanley Moon (Dudley's personal alias after being misidentified as such by an admiring John Gielgud), is far from Goethe's scholarly old Faust. He is a shy and awkward hamburger griller who suffers from unrequited love for waitress, Margaret (an anglicization of Goethe's Gretchen), played deftly in multiple personae by former Fringe troupe member, Eleanor Bron, who is appealing enough for us to understand why Stanley wants her, but not so pretty we can't believe an awkward, inexperienced man has a chance.
We see Margaret in different personae because the story is made up of several episodes, each depicting a wish granted to Stanley by Spiggot in return for his soul. Each episode features Margaret in the type of setting Stanley wishes to enjoy with her, but with a twist he did not expect, because we also see in each episode a version of Spiggot, manipulating things in ways which stay true to the letter of Stanley's wish, but frustrating the spirit.
For his first wish, (or second - there turns out to be some controversy over that) Stanley seeks to be able to express himself to Margaret. He says to Spiggot, "I'm a bit umm .... uhhh ... I'm just a bit..."
"Inarticulate?"
"Yes. That's it. I think"
"And you'd like to be the sort of person who can use words like inarticulate?"
As quick as you can say, "Julie Andrews" Stanley finds himself strolling through the zoo with Margaret and philosophizing like a sophomore in a pretentious Welsh accent about the similarities between the caged animal and life in modern society. Margaret loves it, but Stanley, unworldly, makes his move too soon and wish number one (or two) doesn't end happily.
Seven is a significant number, as Spiggot explains with several examples, including the days of the week, brides for brothers, and the number of deadly sins, who are themselves personified as Spiggot's helpers. Stanley is manhandled by Anger, uses the blood of the napping Sloth (whose forte Spiggot says is writing) to sign his contract, goes with Spiggot on a double-date with the conniving Avarice and the always-nibbling something Gluttony, and finds the effeminate and perpetually dissatisfied Envy occupying his spacious bed in the quarters Spiggot has provided. I can't remember what Pride does, but the star sin is Lust, depicted for some reason as a Southern belle and played by Raquel Welch, who it turns out, gets roughly seven minutes of screen time in two separate appearances.
Raquel's appeal in 1967 was considerable and her charms are well displayed here, however brief. She received her own title card in the credits after the three leads and she is prominent in the advertising. Her presence is rich and a little goes a long way, which also goes, I'm sorry to say, for her fake drawl.
(Note to non-Southern writers writing dialogue for Southern characters: Never say "y'all" to one person. You may as well walk into the premiere with toilet paper stuck to your shoe.)
Bedazzled features some handsome London locations, but despite some reviews that speak of a "swinging sixties" London, the city seen here is really quite staid. The satire might have had more social bite at the time but it is never irreverent. Its humor is droll and filled with references to the times, present and past, with digs at the PM (always an easy target whoever it may be) and swipes at Masoch and Joe McCarthy, but it is never jokey. In the final scene, Spiggot lists the usual symbols of modern life as if they are curses to be regretted - airplanes, cars, frozen foods, advertising, and (remember these?) "supersonic bangs!" - all fashionable concerns of the time.
Whether Stanley can salvage his soul, or win Margaret in any form and for any length of time, and whether Spiggot gets his due, are questions I won't answer here. I will just say I found the story entertaining and by the end credits I was left with a smile.
As I watched, I considered the theological question posed by Bedazzled, one I once heard put to a pastor: Can the devil be forgiven? I've forgotten the details of the pastor's answer, but it was a firm no, mainly because the devil cannot repent and still be the devil, and if he were to say he has repented we could not trust him. Peter and Dudley provide their own answer.
By whatever name he comes to you, Mephistopheles, Lucifer, Beelzebub or Spiggot, and however dazzling he may be, he will remain forever unbelievable.
Bedazzled, or as the title credit has it, "Stanley Donen's Bedazzled" was written by Peter and based on "an idea by" Peter and Dudley. An idea credit might also have gone to Goethe, because we soon learn Peter and Dudley got their idea from the centuries-old Faust legend of a scholarly old man who became bored and unhappy with his divinity studies and made a bargain with the devil's emissary, Mephistopheles, for a superior level of worldly knowledge, with all the pleasures and the power he believed would come with it. Peter's script satirizes not the legend but modern life, using the legend as a template.
Peter plays the Mephistopheles part, but he's not an emissary of the dethroned angel, he's the real thing. He uses the alias George Spiggot, a name Peter favored since it was used in what he always felt was his best sketch, written when he was 18, about a one-legged man auditioning for the part of Tarzan. Spiggot is quite a likeable devil, the sort of friend we might have who is fun to hang with even though it usually ends with trouble, and we always say, "Never again." Spiggot has hopes of one day returning to his seat at the right hand of God, with Whom he is engaged in a race to claim a hundred billion souls.
Dudley's character, named Stanley Moon (Dudley's personal alias after being misidentified as such by an admiring John Gielgud), is far from Goethe's scholarly old Faust. He is a shy and awkward hamburger griller who suffers from unrequited love for waitress, Margaret (an anglicization of Goethe's Gretchen), played deftly in multiple personae by former Fringe troupe member, Eleanor Bron, who is appealing enough for us to understand why Stanley wants her, but not so pretty we can't believe an awkward, inexperienced man has a chance.
We see Margaret in different personae because the story is made up of several episodes, each depicting a wish granted to Stanley by Spiggot in return for his soul. Each episode features Margaret in the type of setting Stanley wishes to enjoy with her, but with a twist he did not expect, because we also see in each episode a version of Spiggot, manipulating things in ways which stay true to the letter of Stanley's wish, but frustrating the spirit.
For his first wish, (or second - there turns out to be some controversy over that) Stanley seeks to be able to express himself to Margaret. He says to Spiggot, "I'm a bit umm .... uhhh ... I'm just a bit..."
"Inarticulate?"
"Yes. That's it. I think"
"And you'd like to be the sort of person who can use words like inarticulate?"
As quick as you can say, "Julie Andrews" Stanley finds himself strolling through the zoo with Margaret and philosophizing like a sophomore in a pretentious Welsh accent about the similarities between the caged animal and life in modern society. Margaret loves it, but Stanley, unworldly, makes his move too soon and wish number one (or two) doesn't end happily.
Stanley articulating in trilled Rs to Margaret at the London Zoo
Seven is a significant number, as Spiggot explains with several examples, including the days of the week, brides for brothers, and the number of deadly sins, who are themselves personified as Spiggot's helpers. Stanley is manhandled by Anger, uses the blood of the napping Sloth (whose forte Spiggot says is writing) to sign his contract, goes with Spiggot on a double-date with the conniving Avarice and the always-nibbling something Gluttony, and finds the effeminate and perpetually dissatisfied Envy occupying his spacious bed in the quarters Spiggot has provided. I can't remember what Pride does, but the star sin is Lust, depicted for some reason as a Southern belle and played by Raquel Welch, who it turns out, gets roughly seven minutes of screen time in two separate appearances.
Raquel is Lust personified
Raquel's appeal in 1967 was considerable and her charms are well displayed here, however brief. She received her own title card in the credits after the three leads and she is prominent in the advertising. Her presence is rich and a little goes a long way, which also goes, I'm sorry to say, for her fake drawl.
(Note to non-Southern writers writing dialogue for Southern characters: Never say "y'all" to one person. You may as well walk into the premiere with toilet paper stuck to your shoe.)
Bedazzled features some handsome London locations, but despite some reviews that speak of a "swinging sixties" London, the city seen here is really quite staid. The satire might have had more social bite at the time but it is never irreverent. Its humor is droll and filled with references to the times, present and past, with digs at the PM (always an easy target whoever it may be) and swipes at Masoch and Joe McCarthy, but it is never jokey. In the final scene, Spiggot lists the usual symbols of modern life as if they are curses to be regretted - airplanes, cars, frozen foods, advertising, and (remember these?) "supersonic bangs!" - all fashionable concerns of the time.
Whether Stanley can salvage his soul, or win Margaret in any form and for any length of time, and whether Spiggot gets his due, are questions I won't answer here. I will just say I found the story entertaining and by the end credits I was left with a smile.
As I watched, I considered the theological question posed by Bedazzled, one I once heard put to a pastor: Can the devil be forgiven? I've forgotten the details of the pastor's answer, but it was a firm no, mainly because the devil cannot repent and still be the devil, and if he were to say he has repented we could not trust him. Peter and Dudley provide their own answer.
By whatever name he comes to you, Mephistopheles, Lucifer, Beelzebub or Spiggot, and however dazzling he may be, he will remain forever unbelievable.
AKA