Funeral Rights

A Southern family confronts death, homosexuality, and repression (but not in that order)

So when was the last time we heard from Olivia Newton-John? Can anybody say "comeback time"? Don't get too excited, now.

Seriously, why is it that John Travolta gets to have resurrection after resurrection, forgiven for endless sins, yet no one seems all that enthusiastic about his former female costar? These days she is looking a whole lot better than everyone's favorite blubbery Scientologist. Maybe there actually was something to all that fitness stuff she was doing back in the Eighties.

Perhaps she should have waited to have her second coming heralded with a "Behind the Music" special, but Newton-John is now back on the big screen in Sordid Lives. It's a smart role for her, too: She plays a singer, sings a song, and then disappears until the end of the movie, at which point she sings another couple of songs, mostly old Southern standards like "Will the Circle Be Unbroken." This way she gets to leave the audience wanting more while getting top billing in all the promotional materials.

The film also delivers the return of Delta Burke, and you know you were just dying to see that happen. Give credit to writer-director Del Shores for filling his script with meaty roles for middle-age women, but jeez, aren't there enough good out-of-work actresses who aren't Delta Burke? Given the subject matter, one is tempted to deduce that Burke was cast because she'd be fun for a drag queen to impersonate.

Ah yes, the subject matter. Shores, a popular playwright from the South now residing in West Hollywood, has two favorite subjects: homosexuality and the Bible Belt. Seeing as how the two haven't tended to mix very well in real life, there's an instant predefined conflict to be had, and by all accounts Shore deals with this conflict very effectively onstage, both in the play on which this film was based and his current hit production, Southern Baptist Sissies. What works onstage, however, doesn't always translate to celluloid.

The setup is a time-tested premise most recently seen in the film Kingdom Come: Dysfunctional family members assemble for a funeral in small-town America. The family matriarch has died as a result of tripping over the wooden legs of dull-witted local G.W. (expect this to be a popular name for dumb redneck characters during the next four years), played by Beau Bridges, the man with whom she was having an illicit affair. Daughters LaVonda (Ann Walker) and Latrelle (Bonnie Bedelia) arrive to mourn at the house of their Aunt Sissy (Beth Grant), then fiercely argue over whether their mother should be buried in her favorite mink stole, Latrelle's argument against it being that it's summer, and no one wears mink in summer.

Meanwhile there are other issues at play. LaVonda's best friend is Noleta (Burke), the wife of the cheating G.W., and there's a delicate balance there between comforting the distraught wife and allowing her to besmirch the name of a dead parent. The late mom also has one more child, Earl (Leslie Jordan, a veteran of Shores's stage productions), known to all as Brother Boy, who was locked up in a mental institution twenty years earlier for being gay and a drag queen, after confessing his attraction to best friend Wardell (Newell Alexander). And Latrelle also has a gay son, an actor who lives in L.A. and bounces around from therapist to therapist trying to be accepted for who he is. Latrelle remains in denial on this subject, assuming he's only playing gay roles onstage as a form of rebellion (citing Tom Hanks, she tells him: "If you're gonna play homosexual, don't waste it on theater -- win an Academy Award!").

The Southern touches are the film's biggest strength: Shores knows all too well the world of air conditioners, iced tea, poofy female hair à la The Simpsons' Maude Flanders, anecdotes about pigs, and impromptu corny witticisms like "Get off the cross, buddy, we need the wood," or "Quit yer grinnin' and drop your linen!" Sadly it's not even a stretch to imagine Brother Boy getting locked away for being gay twenty years ago. What is a bit of a stretch is his therapist (Rosemary Alexander), who, hoping to write a book by "deprogramming" her Tammy Wynette-wannabe patient, resorts to extremely unprofessional behavior that would get anyone in her field suspended, at one point baring her breasts and demanding sexual attention.

The MVP award of Sordid Lives goes not to Burke or Newton-John but to Beth Grant, an actress late into middle age who, according to the press kit, is "best known" as Helen, the exploding bus passenger in Speed. Here she captures the archetypal single Southern aunt to a T, gossiping endlessly on the phone, constantly offering to feed people, and snapping a rubber band on her wrist every time she craves a cigarette ("behavior modi-something-or-other").

Shores deserves a lot of credit for making good use of actresses much of Hollywood probably labels as over the hill, but his directorial and screenwriting abilities still leave much to be desired. Sordid Lives feels like a play in perhaps the least successful way: It's composed of really long scenes that are mostly dialogue, with transition action imagined or implied only. Couldn't we go outside for at least one scene? The total screen time given to exteriors here is about five minutes out of nearly two hours.

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