"BETTY"
Reviewed by Sue Limsukonth.
April 25, 2001

Imagine a mega-huge movie star along the lines of Julia Robert experiencing emptiness in her life. She takes off to Palm Springs in her brand-spanking new convertible. Taken along the ride is her old Hollywood icon image in big, dark diva sunglasses revealing only her red pouty lips, a scarf tied around her hair, classic gray trench coat, a slim and long Norma Desmond cigarette between her fingers - she looks like she just leapt out from one of those old Hitchcock thrillers. And half-way before getting to Palm Springs, she pauses by a cliff, gets out of her car, looks forlornly out into the vastness in front of her and silently sobs melo-dramatic style as if she was auditioning for Joan Crawford's role in "Mildred Pierce." You get the picture. This five-minute introduction to "Betty" sets a tone for a neurotic movie that is both likable and unpretentious.

Upon arriving in Palm Springs, the world's biggest film actress by the name of Betty Monday, effectively portrayed by Cheryl Pollak, goes on a soul-searching spree to shed her vacant superstar image and become a normal human being with regular lackluster jobs. Seeing a swimming pool cleaner scooping up dry leaves one day, she, after not finding enough dry leaves in her pool to satisfy her scooping appetite, orders a massive amount of Froot Loops to be delivered to her rented house, pours the contents of every single box into the pool and, in turn, simply scoop them all back up. To get all down and dirty, Betty goes on to pay the swimming pool cleaner (Stephen Gregory) a grand if he would let her be his apprentice. When one type of labor is not enough to shed away her old glamorous soul, Betty adds two more to her resume in an analgesic lotion sales lady and golf pro.

This kooky premise might sound a bit too cute at first, but Betty accomplishes what it intends to achieve by being a likable film that does not pretend to be what it is not and a movie that does not slap you in the face with pretentiousness. Pollak, although looking so enviably glamorous, gives Betty a congenial quality. Every time Betty's neurotic behavior gets too much to bear, we are obliged by her genuine attempt to survive this crisis. The supporting cast is equally amiable. Udo Kier, often time typecast as a villain, is comical as a realtor who helps Betty find a rented house in Palm Springs. Ron Perlman is warm and nurturing as an old-fashioned door-to-door analgesic lotion salesman who takes his work and the product he sells so earnestly as if it were a miracle potion. Holland Taylor is hilarious as Betty's over-the-top manager whose only concern is to get Betty back to the set of that 70-million-dollar film she left behind.

Director and writer Richard Murphy injects some dialogues that are sometimes trite. But his intentions are warranted by the fact that the film spoofs the glamour of a tinseltown diva that turns out to be just another naive girl next door, albeit a girl next door who looks like Julia Roberts.