Despite a storyline that
devolves from muddy to nonsensical, the mystery/horror flick Happy Mother’s Day, Love George is moderately
interesting to watch because of its colorful cast, and also because it
qualifies as a minor cinematic footnote: This is the only fictional feature
directed by actor Darren McGavin. Although he doesn’t appear in the film, those
who do include Ron Howard, Cloris Leachman, Patricia Neal, and McGvin’s costar
from Kolchak: The Night Stalker,
Simon Oakland. Some are able to find more clarity in the material than others,
with Howard’s characterization suffering the worst ill effects of the dodgy
storytelling, but each actor has at least a vivid moment or two. How these
moments coalesce doesn’t matter all that much, because by the time Happy Mother’s Day, Love George reaches
its absurd climax, so many bizarre and inexplicable things have happened that
believability, logic, and suspense have evoporated. Depending on one’s level of
involvement with the viewing experience, the final stretch of the picture is
likely to trigger either amusement or bewilderment. Nonetheless, getting there
isn’t the worst experience.
In a small town on the Northeastern coast, young
drifter Johnny Hanson (Howard) shows up one day asking questions about the past.
Turns out his mother is greasy-spoon proprietress Rhonda (Leachman), who gave
him up years previous, an action to which Rhonda’s domineering sister, Cara
(Neal), was party. At the same time Johnny dredges up old secrets, local cop
Roy (Oakland) investigates a series of unsolved murders, tagging Johnny as a
suspect. There’s also some weird business with Johnny’s cousin, Celia (Tessa
Dahl), who sports a British accent and takes Johnny as a lover. Oh, and
singer/actor Bobby Darin is in here, too, playing Rhonda’s husband.
The movie
has solid production values and some fine location photography, but the inept
storytelling renders nearly all the commendable elements moot. For instance,
even though Neal is forceful as a bitchy and delusional matriarch, the contours
of her relationships with other people are mostly perplexing. Furthermore, the
third-act switch from twisted domestic intrigue to Edgar Allan Poe-style horror
is whiplash-inducing. Yet with so many talented people participating, including
screenwriter Robert Clouse (later the director of several enjoyable genre
pictures), it’s tempting to examine this misfire and ponder what the original
intentions might have been. Surely, at some point, rational people thought this
piece would work.
Happy Mother’s Day, Love George: FUNKY