After headlining her first TV special, a dumb joke erupted in Hollywood that Raquel Welch had lipsanc to another singer's recordings. In an effort to disprove the rumors, she hit the Las Vegas stage with a variation of this show on New Year's 1973. Once the Vegas engagement ended, she moved on to Reno (and possibly elsewhere), and then the production was shot as a TV special.
A few dancers aside, Welch's only costars are made of wood and foam, provided by Saturday morning moguls Sid and Marty Krofft. Sid had begun his career manipulating handheld rod puppets in carnivals, and this special provides a rare opportunity to get a glimpse of some of his tiny creations. After the Krofft brothers agreed to create the costumes for "The Banana Splits Adventure Hour," they became renowned for churning out costumed characters -- such as Ook the caveman and Oonk-Oonk the dinosaur, guest stars on their TV show "Sigmund and the Sea Monsters" who make another appearance here.
"Really, Raquel" opens with a powerful rendition of "Let Me Entertain You" (including an excerpt of "Rose's Turn") from the Broadway musical "Gypsy." At the midpoint of the song, it abruptly turns into an overblown Busby Berkeley puppet production number, featuring eight tuxedo-clad dancers manipulating long rods, at the end of which dangled four identical miniature showgirls. It's quite an opening number, beautifully performed, shot, and edited.
She goes on to sing an eclectic array of songs, including Linda Ronstadt's "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight," Thelma Houston's "Cheap Lovin'," James Taylor's "Steam Roller Blues," Elvis Presley's "Saved," Duke Ellington's "Just Squeeze Me (But Don't Tease Me)," plus songs from Funny Girl, Porgy and Bess, and others.
One could say that the show is a giant exercise in narcissism - and it is - but Welch keeps her tongue firmly planted in cheek. She gives a monologue about her public perception and the realities, and she performs "A Medley of My Movies," featuring campy sendups of "One Million Years B. C.," "Kansas City Bombers," "Fantastic Voyage" and "Myra Breckinridge." There's also a frantic dance interlude where she's accompanied by two males in half-drag.
Welch is regularly upstaged by puppets, but she doesn't seem to mind (Marty has joked Raquel was miffed that the critics lavished the Krofft brothers with praise, even though they were never at the performances). A highlight of the show is a puppet symphony filled with a wide assortment of celebrities, including Frankenstein, Dracula, the Beatles, the 3 Stooges, the Marx Brothers, Carol Channing, Al Jolson, Alfred Hitchcock, Bing Crosby, Shirley Temple, Charlie Chaplin, Clark Gable, Louis Armstrong, W. C. Fields, and Mae West. Some of these marionettes were featured at the legendary World's Fair show "Les Poupées des Paris," and it's a treat to see them preserved here.
Welch was quite the chanteuse and moved with elegant grace, but I'm not crazy about some of the song choices, and there's a yo-yoing rise-and-fall to them -- which is appropriate for a lounge act, but quickly grows tiresome on TV (admittedly, this could be my 21st century ADD). Although "portions of this program were recorded before a live audience," there's never a sense that she's playing to a crowd, it exudes that phony 1970s variety show vibe.
Minor criticisms aside, "Really, Raquel" is a wonderful record of a live stage show that must've been really impressive. It holds up for being what it is, and I hope someday, the special will attain a legitimate release.
A few dancers aside, Welch's only costars are made of wood and foam, provided by Saturday morning moguls Sid and Marty Krofft. Sid had begun his career manipulating handheld rod puppets in carnivals, and this special provides a rare opportunity to get a glimpse of some of his tiny creations. After the Krofft brothers agreed to create the costumes for "The Banana Splits Adventure Hour," they became renowned for churning out costumed characters -- such as Ook the caveman and Oonk-Oonk the dinosaur, guest stars on their TV show "Sigmund and the Sea Monsters" who make another appearance here.
"Really, Raquel" opens with a powerful rendition of "Let Me Entertain You" (including an excerpt of "Rose's Turn") from the Broadway musical "Gypsy." At the midpoint of the song, it abruptly turns into an overblown Busby Berkeley puppet production number, featuring eight tuxedo-clad dancers manipulating long rods, at the end of which dangled four identical miniature showgirls. It's quite an opening number, beautifully performed, shot, and edited.
She goes on to sing an eclectic array of songs, including Linda Ronstadt's "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight," Thelma Houston's "Cheap Lovin'," James Taylor's "Steam Roller Blues," Elvis Presley's "Saved," Duke Ellington's "Just Squeeze Me (But Don't Tease Me)," plus songs from Funny Girl, Porgy and Bess, and others.
One could say that the show is a giant exercise in narcissism - and it is - but Welch keeps her tongue firmly planted in cheek. She gives a monologue about her public perception and the realities, and she performs "A Medley of My Movies," featuring campy sendups of "One Million Years B. C.," "Kansas City Bombers," "Fantastic Voyage" and "Myra Breckinridge." There's also a frantic dance interlude where she's accompanied by two males in half-drag.
Welch is regularly upstaged by puppets, but she doesn't seem to mind (Marty has joked Raquel was miffed that the critics lavished the Krofft brothers with praise, even though they were never at the performances). A highlight of the show is a puppet symphony filled with a wide assortment of celebrities, including Frankenstein, Dracula, the Beatles, the 3 Stooges, the Marx Brothers, Carol Channing, Al Jolson, Alfred Hitchcock, Bing Crosby, Shirley Temple, Charlie Chaplin, Clark Gable, Louis Armstrong, W. C. Fields, and Mae West. Some of these marionettes were featured at the legendary World's Fair show "Les Poupées des Paris," and it's a treat to see them preserved here.
Welch was quite the chanteuse and moved with elegant grace, but I'm not crazy about some of the song choices, and there's a yo-yoing rise-and-fall to them -- which is appropriate for a lounge act, but quickly grows tiresome on TV (admittedly, this could be my 21st century ADD). Although "portions of this program were recorded before a live audience," there's never a sense that she's playing to a crowd, it exudes that phony 1970s variety show vibe.
Minor criticisms aside, "Really, Raquel" is a wonderful record of a live stage show that must've been really impressive. It holds up for being what it is, and I hope someday, the special will attain a legitimate release.
