humanness. Faced with unprepossessingnplatitudes of looks and behavior, Mr.nAllen does not know how to generatenpainful sarcasm; instead, he begins tonkvetch that life has sentenced him toncoexist with triviality. The movie beginsnwith a sequence in which Mr. Allen isnin a railway coach filled with appallinglynsordid human faces; he seems very, verynill at ease. He seems not to suspect thatnhis own face is not much better.nMy Bodyguard is about rudimentarynjustice. Somebody is bad and he shouldnbe punished; someone is good and henshould be rewarded with the final triumph.nSuch a reality of moral and existentialnsymmetry is desirable to everyone—one’sncapacity for more complexnviews of the universe notwithstanding.nThus, when, at the end of the movie,nthe two good guys who were victimizedneither by Ufe itself or by the bad guysnor both ultimately mete out physicalncomeuppance to the forces of evil—nembodied by one punk and one minipunk—thenaudience spontaneouslynbursts into rousing applause. This momentnis, of course, much more importantnthan the movie itself, with itsnmeager story, mediocre acting and sluggishndirection. It proves the momentousntruth that American audiences—innspite of all the efforts of Marcuse, Mastersn& Johnson, Leary and Lear, Esquirenmagazine. New York Times-stylenmovie “critics” and, first and foremost,nthe brutal radic-liberal Hollywood hustlers—arenrooting for blatant, unabashednidealism. That is, American audiencesnare not yet corrupted at the very corenof their faith in the simplest of humanndecencies.nIt is beneath the dignity of a rationalnperson to buy a ticket to see Hopscotch.nWhat its authors and performers haventried to convey to the audience is thatnthe CIA and the KGB are equally bad.nThe fact that the former defends thenAmerican democracy (which assures thenpeople’s right to produce imbecilenmovies and distribute them for profit),nwhile the latter defends the SovietnUnion (a government which has murderedn20,000,000 people in its Gulags),nKelly?nXanadu; Written by Richard ChristiannDanus and Marc Reid Rubel;nDirected by Robert Greenwald; AnUniversal Picture.nby Stephen MacaulaynXarmdu is not a film biography ofnKublai Khan, nor of S. T. Coleridge,nnor is it about the effects of opium eating.nIt’s a cartoon of a movie with OlivianNewton-John as a soft-voiced pop vocalistnwho appeacs to be a person who isnsqueaky clean but is trying like mad tonbe saucy. And Gene Kelly. Yes, GenenKelly. Who performs on disco rollernskates.nMs. Newton-John portrays one of thennine Muses (and does, unfortunately,nquote Coleridge) who comes to L.A. inn1980 to inspire Kelly and another character.nThe object of the inspiration: notna historical comedy, tragedy, etc., but anroller disco called—what else? —nXanadu. The nine were the daughtersnof Zeus and Mnemosyne, and the viewerncan only hope that Mnemosyne willndesert him or her before the last popcornnkernel has been dislodged from betweenntwo molars. Drawing the idea of thenMuses presented in the film to its naturalnconclusion, one would now make annapostrophe before taking part in punknrock, hot-tubbing, skateboarding, etc.nThe movie should be beneath notice.nHowever, it must be considered sincenit may mark the trend of musicals innthe 80’s. Ms. Newton-John, not muchnMr. Macaulay is a youthful movie fannfrom Detroit.nnnis not mentioned in the movie. UntilnAmericans learn to withdraw theirnmonies from the producers of suchnmovies, we can expect nothing to improvenon this planet, made wretchednby the disseminators of ugly lies presentednas entertainment. Dnof an actress, is quite popular with thenyoung as well as the M.O.R. listeners.nShe was even presented with an awardnin Nashville, which is no mean tricknfor a young lady from the British Empire.nAnd Gene Kelly. The living legendnof Singing in the Rain and An Americannin Paris. Many of Ms. Newton-nJohn’s fans probably can’t remembernKelly in anything, and vice versa, butnquite a wide range of ticket buyers arencovered by this team. Nevertheless, itnseems as though the producers didn’tnwant to leave anything to chance, sonthey hired a rock band that has a phenomenalnnumber of platinum recordsnto its credit, the Electric Light Orchestra,nto write and perform some of thensoundtrack.nThis is a marketing strategy, not annisolated incident. Earlier this year. YounCan’t Stop the Music was released. Itsnstars are: The Village People, a disconband that touts homosexuality; ValerienPerrine, an actress who is generouslynendowed with a shapely figure; andnBruce Jenner, Olympic decathlonnchamp and current TV-commercialnchamp. This film was even promotednby a Baskin-Robbins icecream flavor.nThe producers of these films fail tonrealize that word of mouth can drownnout all the hoopla. What are expected tonbe “big” films have theater lives of mayflies.nThus, the question lingers: Whyndid Gene Kelly do it.^ After FrednAstaire’s recent marriage to a lady in hernthirties. Gene, no doubt, felt compellednto do something. Dn•^^•^•^^•^41nXovcmbcr/Dccembcr 1980n