REVIEW: Pretty Maids all in a Row
The early 1970s were a transitional period for feature films. A new generation of filmmakers was making their presence known, alongside actors still unfamiliar to mainstream audiences. Content was evolving away from escapist fare toward more serious, provocative material. MGM, however, seemed slow to catch up.
When Herb Solow, formerly of Desilu and Paramount, took over as head of film production, he jettisoned most of his predecessor’s projects but retained a film based on Francis Pollini’s 1968 novel Pretty Maids All in a Row. William Hanley (Something About Amelia) had already written a screenplay, and there was something about its darkly comic, erotic tone that Solow thought could become a commercial success.
Solow thought the script needed a rewrite, and, as luck would have it, there was a screenwriter whose project had been canceled after he had already been paid, leaving him indebted to the studio. The writer was a vocal proponent of frank depictions of sex and sexual desire, which seemed to make him a fitting choice. He also couldn’t find work anywhere else, so Solow turned to Gene Roddenberry to rewrite Hanley’s script and produce the film.
Roddenberry had withdrawn from the third season of Star Trek to write a Tarzan screenplay that was never filmed. No sooner had he returned to Stage 9 at Paramount Pictures than NBC canceled his creation. To Roddenberry’s credit, he saw Pretty Maids All in a Row as a possible vehicle for commentary on the sorry state of public education and changing sexual mores in the wake of the sexual revolution.
The story focuses on football coach and guidance counselor Michael “Tiger” McDrew (Rock Hudson), who is ruggedly handsome and desired by the young women of Oceanfront High School. He exploits many of them and eventually begins killing them, leaving the corpses provocatively scattered around the grounds, from the football field to the restroom. Meanwhile, Ponce (John David Carson) is suffering from serious sexual frustration but develops a crush on substitute teacher Miss Smith (Angie Dickinson). McDrew convinces Smith to “educate” Ponce and help him gain confidence.
With four students dead, the police, led by Detective Sam Surcher (Telly Savalas), investigate and zero in on McDrew because, well, there is no other likely suspect in the story.
What could have been an interesting character study and commentary on teenagers, sex, and education was badly mishandled. The fault lies not so much with Roddenberry, who was inexperienced as a feature film writer, as with Solow’s odd choice of French provocateur Roger Vadim to make his first American movie. It was a poor match, and Vadim leaned into the sex while largely ignoring the commentary. That said, Roddenberry’s approach to sexuality was nearly as juvenile as the students he was writing about, and he surprisingly portrayed the police poorly, including Police Chief John Poldaski (Keenan Wynn), despite his own background as a former officer.
Much as Solow hired Roddenberry out of a measure of loyalty, the producer also brought on Star Trek’s William Ware Theiss for the costumes and hired William Campbell and James Doohan as Surcher’s fellow detectives. The maids themselves—Brenda Sykes, Joy Bang, Gretchen Burrell, Aimee Eccles, June Fairchild, Margaret Markov, Diane Sherry, and a pre-Isis JoAnna Cameron—were all hoping the project, with its star leads, would be a stepping stone. Instead, they were disappointed by the results, with some refusing to promote the film. Their nudity was copious for the day, and they appeared in the April 1971 issue of Playboy, but it did little good for their careers.
The film was a mismatch of intentions and talents, resulting in divided critical reviews. Its disastrous box-office performance made this Roddenberry’s only feature-film script credit, and his career foundered until the first Star Trek convention, less than a year later, helped rewrite the pop-culture paradigm.
Warner Archive’s Blu-ray release presents the film with an excellent 1080p transfer, offering a clean, stable image that lets viewers appreciate both the period production design and the sunlit California locations. Colors look natural, detail is strong, and the presentation appears faithful rather than artificially polished. The DTS-HD MA 2.0 Mono audio track is similarly solid, keeping dialogue clear while giving Lalo Schifrin’s score enough presence to remain one of the film’s more enjoyable assets. The disc is disappointingly light on supplements, with only the trailer included, but the feature itself has been treated well. For collectors of studio-era oddities, Roddenberry completists, or viewers curious about this strange collision of talents, the release is worthwhile, even if the film remains more fascinating as a misfire than as a success.
