Sweet Revenge

In this made-for-television flick, Stockard Channing plays a no-good, selfish, pathological liar with a rap sheet longer than her arm. Her current fixation is stealing cars, so that she can sell them and hopefully get enough money to actually buy a Ferrari. Beyond that, she has absolutely no life plan. She's not thinking of getting a legitimate job, an apartment or house, a quality boyfriend, or even a bath. What a great heroine to root for.

For some reason that never becomes clear, her young, trusting public defender—played by Sam Waterston, who else?—tells the judge to be lenient because she's a good kid and just needs a little guidance. He continually sticks up for her and tries to help her, even though she proves time and again she has neither the interest nor the tools to fully accept his help. She's incredibly unlikable, and it's very frustrating to watch her drag Sam down with her, especially for fans who know him on Law & Order. Unless you really love Stockard Channing—I don't; she's just too angry-looking all the time—you'll probably want to load up on your Jack McCoy fix the way nature intended, with a Law & Order marathon.

If you're looking for a movie with meaning, this isn't it. But, if you're looking for about 2 hours of car-stealing fun, this is the movie for you. The plot is easy to follow (she steals cars to buy her dream car) and the acting is wonderful. I'm surprised at how much chemistry Stockard Channing and Sam Waterston have together (of course, you could put Stockard Channing opposite a hot dog and she would have find a way to make the scene work.) I'd never heard of this movie before and didn't know what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised by it. I wonder why this film wasn't considered good when it came out. It really isn't a bad little film. If you need only one reason to see this movie, watch it to see the development of Stockard Channing's acting technique. This woman should have a mantle full of Academy Awards. She slips into Vurrla and her different aliases so easily that you wonder (at least I did) if she has some type of personality disorder. I don't mean that in a cruel way, but her transformation into the character is so complete that you forget you're watching Stockard Channing playing a character and feel as if you're peeping in on Vurrla. When you're so engrossed in a movie that you forget that you're watching a movie, that is the hallmark of a great acting (think Olivier in "Othello" or Davis in "The Little Foxes).

Vurrla Kowsky (Stockard Channing) has an eye for a new Ferrari Dino. She's a car thief and gets pulled over. Her public defender Philip Le Clerq (Sam Waterston) assumes that she's a victim of circumstances and tries to reform her. In reality, she gave a false identity and constantly lies to him. She has many aliases and is an unrepentant thief. Philip follows her back to her rundown boarded up place. Only her car radio stealing best friend Edmund knows her real name. Sweet Revenge is her car's name. Philip tries to help her despite continuously being lied to.

This little-seen Stockard Channing indie is a nice showcase for her. The film works best when she's paired with Waterston. It really should be a film about the two of them. The film stagnates without them together even when she does some crazy stuff. Their back and forth injects a fun chemistry into the movie.

Well, Lenny Maltin thought it was a bomb so you know it's at least worth a look. Nice Tacoma in bleak, rainy winter cinematography from Vilmos Zsigmund, and Stockard Channing gives a very good, take no prisoners type performance as a feckless, teenage car thief (that is, if you can somehow suspend your doubt that this actor looks anything less than thirty). Problem is that Channing is so in your face unattractive and off putting that I stopped liking Vurria (could the screenwriters have come up with a dumber name?) about fifteen minutes in and stopped caring about her shortly thereafter. And once that happens then it's not long before interest starts to fade and you just impatiently wait for the all too predictable, hopeless denouement. It's kind of how I felt with this director's previous foray into 70s, American loser-dom, "Scarecrow". Give it a generous C plus for Vilmos and Stockard.

Stockard Channing is a young woman who decides to steal the same car again and again, so she can get her dream ride. Sam Waterston is her court-appointed lawyer -- of course -- who finds her low-rent free spirit irresistibly challenging.

This is the 1970s, and in the aftermath of the 1960s, the free spirit, bursting from the bonds of conventionality, is no longer seen as a personal choice, of how an individual kook's defiance of convention can make her happier and give those near to her a new and valid view of the world. We don't get Katherine Hepburn gushing about Cary Grant: "You've got no faith in Johnny, have you, Julia? His little dream may fall flat, you think. Well, so it may, what if it should? There'll be another. Oh, I've got all the faith in the world in Johnny. Whatever he does is all right with me. If he wants to dream for a while, he can dream for a while, and if he wants to come back and sell peanuts, oh, how I'll believe in those peanuts!"

The downside is no longer just the people making bad choices; we get to see the elderly couple talking about how much they love their son, and imagine how they feel when they find out what has actually. Choices have consequences for other people.