Busting. Elliott Gould and Robert Blake mugging it up, with Allen Garfield a breath of fresh air. Takes place in 1974, when making fun of fags was funny.
The Choirboys. More fag hilarity, but at least Burt Young has some compassion: "Kid, how long have you had this problem?" In spite of the broad, sophomoric, unfunny humor, there is an almost redeeming wafting scent of dread and disaster, like the pervasive smell of farts and vomit at one of the choir practices.
Red Riding Hood Trilogy: Part One: 1974. Most colons ever in a movie title? "Based" on an actual serial killing, the hero wears tighty-whities, smokes filtered cigarettes (unlike a real man), gets beat up a lot, and mumbles so badly I had to turn on the subtitles. Ugly stuff, and not in a good way.
The Geisha Boy. From the first shot, we know we're in Frank Tashlin territory: an overhead shot that looks right down Marie McDonald's cleavage as she exits a plane. Lots of funny stuff, plenty of tit gags, and Jerry's pretty much kept in control, so that he almost seems like a real person. But the final third is so cloying that I have to believe it came from Lewis's brain. Is there anything else like it in movies Tashlin directed without Lewis? I wonder if Tashlin originally conceived it as an American/Japanese romance, and Lewis added the horribly sentimental stuff with the kid. I'd prefer blaming Jer, not Tash.