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Tuesday, February 20, 2018

WHERE'S POPPA? (1970)

Part of the proudly tasteless/slightly smutty/envelope-pushing edgy new comedy that came-of-age with the Baby Boomers in the late-‘60s/early-‘70s.* But with so much dependent on long lost shock value, do the laughs hold? George Segal, dutiful son of senile Ruth Gordon, is at the end of his rope taking care of her. But after giving her breakfast (Pepsi & Fruit Loops) and heading to work, he lucks into nurse of his dreams Trish Van Devere. Will Mom approve? Flitting around this basic premise are various purposefully cringe-worthy comic set pieces: a Central Park gang of sharp-dressed Black muggers; the forced rape of an uncover male cop (no charges, instead long-stemmed roses as thanks); maternal butt snuggles; a gorilla-suit wake-up call; subconscious fantasy jump cuts; a courtroom debate for a violent peacenik hippie & a bonkers death-loving Army Colonel; and so forth. Some can still make you laugh (Vincent Gardenia’s impeccable comic timing on the witness stand remains irreproachable and Segal is sweetly funny crooning Maurice Chevalier’s ‘Louise’), but some is now less amusing than objectionable. Especially under Carl Reiner’s often comically inept staging & camera direction. Those who found it a subversive comic gem back in the day may still find it so; fresher eyes not so much.

DOUBLE-BILL: *Over in Britain, MORGAN!/’66 started the ball rolling, and holds up better.

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