WHEN JOANNA LOVED ME....EVERYTHING WAS DOG SHIT

So many great films came out in the 1960s, it was inevitable that a few works of genius slipped by relatively unheralded in their own time, destined for fanboy-fetish "lost classic" status in our own. So many, in fact, that the whole "lost classic" thing has become a complete cliche bestowed anything obscure enough to reinforce some toxic fanperson's self-image as a connoisseur of great art.

That being the case, it's oddly refreshing to watch a piece of complete shit like Michael Sarne's  "Joanna."

This must have seemed like HOT STUFF in its' era: a lost little rich girl from the suburbs heads down to The Big Black Smoke Of London, determined to Find Herself and to Make Something Out Of This Big Crazy World, only to find - big shock here - a cynical world of parasites, grifters, and casual sex. Can't fuck THAT up, right? WRONG.

There are so many things wrong with this piece of shit, it's hard to know where to start, but I'll give it a shot - first of all, Geneviève Waïte - the female lead - can't act, and she has the most incredibly annoying Rita-Tushingham-on-Helium voice, total nails on chalkboard. Secondly, the entire film is hilariously badly dubbed, it makes Sergio Leone looks like naturalist theater. The film tries for topicality with a flair of artiness, and winds up only a confused, directionless soap opera with annoying pretensions to artistry - these incredibly irritating "Easy Rider"-ish non-sequitur dream sequences are shoehorned into the narrative about every 12 minutes. I didn't think Donald Sutherland was even capable of acting as badly as he does in this film, as a dying, sort of Tara-Browne-meets-YODA type of figure, this doomed lispy aristocratic jackass barfing up muddled "psychedelic" profundities in this hilariously affected cartoonish Ronald Coleman voice ("good to get out of stuffy old London, what?"). There's treacly, slimy soundtrack music all over the place, lounge lizards crashing the party at the Bag-O-Nails (or whatever) - Rod McKuen doing his thing, and a hilariously over-the-top DEATH by VIBRATO love theme from from Scott Walker.

Did I mention that the cast BREAKS THE FOURTH WALL by singing a fucking CHORUS LINE at the end? God almighty. Strong stuff! This is the sort of film you want to STOMP on after seeing it. The last line in the film - as poor, brokenhearted Joanna returns to the suburbs to have her LOVE CHILD (spoiler alert, fans of unwatchable shit), she sticks her head out the train window and says - as the thing pulls away, of course - "I'LL BE BACK." There's a review on IMDB where somebody describes seeing this turd in the theater in 1969, and when Joanna promises/threatens to return, apparently the few people left that hadn't walked out in the middle started riotously BOOING and THROWING POPCORN and CHUCKLES at the screen. That's really all anyone needs to know about this piece of shit, I think.

Thanks for reminding us, "Joanna," that dog shit existed in the 60's, too.

In the immortal words of Rudy Ray Moore, "bitch, are you FOR REAL?"