For some reason, Joey Heatherton stands out in my mind from the other young sex pots of the 60s. Maybe it was her two impressive upper incisors. I needed those teeth.
But then I hardly ever saw her, aside from a few glimpses, because she made no notable movies and because for some of the decade I was completely out of town.
I gather she wasn't much of an actress compared to her coevals. She was not imbued with the sultriness of, say, Ann-Margaret, nor did she have the same incandescent bosom. She couldn't deliver a performance like Tuesday Weld, although she could probably match Sue Lyon.
Sue Lyon was the eponymous nymphet in Stanley Kubrick's 1964 "Lolita." Heatherton had been offered the part by Kubrick but her stern Dad, a show-biz type himself, wouldn't allow it. Too bad. Heatherton would have made a yummy pubescent -- and she was old enough to curb the ever-ready accusations of pedophilia. Lyon's career didn't last long either. Age could not stale, nor custom wither, her infinite monotony.
Joey Heatherton came from a rich family that lived in a swanky New York suburb. That's as far as I got before I had to retreat with the aim of retaining my sanity in the face of a narration crowded with monsters like, "she loved life", and "little did she know," and "every man dreamed of her," and "combination of innocence and sex appeal." Her career evidently went nowhere. A shame, because maturity can bring with it a positive trajectory of talent and self possession.
But then I hardly ever saw her, aside from a few glimpses, because she made no notable movies and because for some of the decade I was completely out of town.
I gather she wasn't much of an actress compared to her coevals. She was not imbued with the sultriness of, say, Ann-Margaret, nor did she have the same incandescent bosom. She couldn't deliver a performance like Tuesday Weld, although she could probably match Sue Lyon.
Sue Lyon was the eponymous nymphet in Stanley Kubrick's 1964 "Lolita." Heatherton had been offered the part by Kubrick but her stern Dad, a show-biz type himself, wouldn't allow it. Too bad. Heatherton would have made a yummy pubescent -- and she was old enough to curb the ever-ready accusations of pedophilia. Lyon's career didn't last long either. Age could not stale, nor custom wither, her infinite monotony.
Joey Heatherton came from a rich family that lived in a swanky New York suburb. That's as far as I got before I had to retreat with the aim of retaining my sanity in the face of a narration crowded with monsters like, "she loved life", and "little did she know," and "every man dreamed of her," and "combination of innocence and sex appeal." Her career evidently went nowhere. A shame, because maturity can bring with it a positive trajectory of talent and self possession.