The late Joan Rivers, being the multi-talented person she was, is being remembered for a number of things. Most are obviously remembering her stand-up, but she is also respected for her impressive careers in fashion, late-show and daytime TV hosting and writing as well. But there is one retrospective of her career that has grown shortsighted: her filmmaking career. And, maybe for good reason.
In 1978, at 45 years old, Rivers went on to co-write and direct her one and only movie behind the camera, Rabbit Test, centered on Lionel (Billy Crystal, in his first film), a lonely and distraught night teacher who, after a fussy late-night stand, becomes the first man ever to become pregnant.
A comedy predating pregnancy comedies like Junior and Knocked Up, Rabbit Test may have the advantage of being ahead of its peers. Ultimately, what is lacking is just how distantly aimless, charmless and tone deaf it really is. Rivers still carries her signature wit in stride, but she appears overwhelmed, having to push her comedic skills in an all-visual medium.
What makes Rivers' film so unstintingly amateur is that it constantly fails at establishing any sense of rhythm—both comically and narratively—or any dynamic way at pushing its fairly intriguing premise. It's weird that, when a female comedian is given such a lucrative and groundbreaking position of directing a Hollywood comedy during this particular time (the late '70s), she would use it to tell the story of a man's hardships.
There are lots of talented, funny people here, but most come across either overcooked or confused. Crystal, holding some charm that would make him a household name in later years but lacking the confidence to parade it around, comes across too squeamish and deadpan when he should be vibrant and unnerved. On the contrary, every other character around him seems set to 11 in intensity, which results in most scenes losing their flavor or ground. The most continuous examples of this come from Lionel's mother Mrs. Carpenter (Doris Roberts, of Everybody Loves Raymond fame) constantly screaming and whaling in every waking scene, to tiresomely irksome effects.
The movie's only two stand-out performances come from Alex Rocco as Sergeant Danny Bonhoff and George Gobel as the president; the only two performers who seem to grasp the movie's zaniness while also bringing some grounded control. When the movie centers on them, there is some resemblance of composure and control for the movie. But their appearances are so scattershot and inconsistent that they rarely ever make their full impact.
As someone known so well for her piercing tongue, it's oddly the visual gags in Rabbit Test that make the biggest comedic impacts. Jokes like a priest dumping two babies into a bucket holding their bodies upside down strikes the right tospy turvy balance the movie loses so quickly, while imagery later in the movie of a puppet Pope and three Christmas trees and a forest fire next to one another on the news are the jokes that land harder than any one-liner or dialogue joke in the movie. At times—and this, once again, relates to the movie being ahead of its time—they come across as the kind of jokes that the Zucker brothers would excel at in Airplane and The Naked Gun series. Possibly due to Rivers' lack of cinematic confidence, however, these moments here are as equally scattershot as the characters, and makes only their brief few moments work.
Much like the late comedian's stand-up, Rabbit Test is furiously mean-spirited and quick to throw an insult and gag in any direction whatsoever. What's missing, however, is Rivers' self-parading energy, as her cinematic style is always constantly low-key and always either uninspired or inexperienced.
The script, written by Rivers and Jay Redack, isn't an especially bad one. In fact, in some of its oddities and atypical comedic beats, it's ahead of its time. Some of the movie dispelling blunders and antics sometimes feel like something that would come out of Louie, and particularly from C.K.'s earlier works.
Rivers (who also makes a cameo mid-way through the movie as a kidney-dropping nurse) eventually only sees these characters as either comic buffoons or plot devices that it's hard to connect to the movie, since its filmmaker is so scornfully looking down on every one of them. This can sometimes work in a smartest-gal-in-the-room type way, or as a satire of some political or social type. But Rivers never seems too interested in either pushing the movie's half-hearted message about feminism and the view of men's adoration in the media spotlight, and its pokes often come at random, nonsensical moments. If she does, as she starts to be in the movie's third act, it is either done so rushed or sloppily that it makes no impact upon arrival.
Sure, there are moments like the U.N. leader—a woman, for added effect—saying that "all past progress pales compared to what you have accomplished" in relation to Lionel's amazing capability to give life that drive home its cynical viewpoint of male's impeccable abilities at doing things women have been doing for years. But these moments are so few and far between that they never truly communicate how bitter and biting of a comedy Rabbit Test could effectively be.
This works fine for Rivers in her stand-up, again, but in film form it makes for a rather disjointed and confused adventure. There is a reason why the aforementioned C.K. couldn't quite hit his filmmaking stride until his forties.
What makes Rabbit Test worse is how unprofessional it looks, beyond its director. Its cinematography is constantly sterile and tranquil, while its editing is too brash and poorly cut. Also, the fact that the movie was shot on video instead of film makes the project look cheaper than it actually is.
For all its faults, however, Rabbit Test is not a complete failure. It certainly contains flashes of Rivers' irreverent, brash wit, and is never afraid to slow down its twisted, sometimes dark, often critical comedic sensibilities. If anything, it's a reminder of just how much Rivers' comedy relied on her, specifically. As much as her writing contains her signature hot-wired temperamental hoodzpah, it's ultimately a disservice if it's not coming from the mouth of its creator. Her wit needs her tongue, her voice and her body to truly shine, and that's why she had a stand-up career as prosperous and long as her's was.
Rabbit Test is not an especially easy movie to find. But, if you're interested, it can be watched in its entirety on YouTube, as seen below:
Image courtesy of Walter McBride/INFphoto.com
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