Myra Breckinridge

Few movies experienced the intensity of critical evisceration as Myra Breckinridge, the freewheeling 1970 adaptation of Gore Vidal's bestseller. Viewed in its day as a new low in vulgarity, the originally X-rated all-star feature is not only tame by today's standards but also seems to have been three decades ahead of its time. With its daring unapologetic depiction of the gay-lesbian-transgendered community, its sharp message that Hollywood is a land of kitsch rather than culture, and its wildly over-the-top attack on sexual protocols (especially with septuagenarian Mae West as a talent agent who "auditions" hunks, including a young Tom Selleck), Michael Sarne's film seemed to predict the coming of the likes of John Waters, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Howard Stern, the Farrelly Brothers, and South Park. Raquel Welch's Myra wickedly skewers the concept of yesteryear's Hollywood glamour girl, complete with an outlandish wardrobe (gigantic hats and mannishly-tailored suits) that looks like a Carol Burnett takeoff on a Joan Crawford melodrama, even as her transsexual character's assault on Hollywood hypocrisy and male-dominated society makes her the ultimate feminist nightmare (her gay alter-ego Myron, played by critic Rex Reed, is conservative and reserved in comparison). John Huston, John Carradine, Andy Devine, and Jim Backus spice things up in barbed performances spoofing their well-worn film personas. Available separately, or as part of the five-disc Raquel Welch Collection (along with the new-to-DVD One Million Years B.C., Bandolero!, and Mother, Jugs & Speed, as well as the repackaged Fathom, for $49.98, or $14.98 individually), Myra Breckinridge is gorgeous in its DVD debut (and I'm not just talking about Raquel--the anamorphic widescreen transfer is crisp and richly color-saturated), and boasts some solid extras. A flipper disc, with the “special edition” on one side (with catty commentary by director Michael Sarne), and the theatrical version on the other (with self-deprecating commentary by Welch), the only real difference between the near-identical versions is some minor editing (and, of course, very different takes on the film by Sarne and Welch, who are not exactly bosom buddies). Also included is an excellent 22-minute episode of AMC's Backstory, charting the film's colorful production history. Highly recommended. (P. Hall)