"The Lonely Lady" (1983)

While no one should expect anything derived from a Harold Robbins novel to be classy, it's not unreasonable to go into the theater thinking you're at least going to see some good trash.

"The Lonely Lady" is not good trash; it doesn't even come close to qualifying.

It's a revoltingly sexist, poorly acted, ineptly made and nearly incoherent piece of garbage that can't even properly exploit its star, which would seem to be the primary reason for its existence.

Pia Zadora fills the role of Jerilee Randall (it would be overpraising her to say she actually plays the part), a Valley Girl with a supposed knack for writing. Soon after her graduation from high school, she is whisked off to sinful Hollywood by top screenwriter Walter Thornton (Lloyd Bochner) who, though twice her age, becomes her husband and mentor.

Having learned after her marriage that her hubby is impotent, Jerilee wastes little time in striking out on her own, using her body in various vain attempts to peddle her screenplays to interested parties, both male and female. On her way to the top, Jerilee is raped with the nozzle of a garden hose, becomes an alcoholic, is forced into a liaison with a seductive Italian actress and suffers a nervous breakdown. The audience also endures its share of agony: Zadora's horrifying version of "The Clapping Song" is played twice in the course of the film.

This saga could have made for some good campy fun, but "Lady" takes itself too seriously to be enjoyable on any level, dropping such profundities as "wine is cheaper than self-respect" and "in this business, you can't afford self-respect" with a straight face. Peter Sadsy directs the actors in broad strokes, letting them scream, whine and whisper, but rarely allowing any room for normal conversation.

In addition, the editing is shockingly amateurish, abusing fades, dissolves, jump cuts and other standard storytelling techniques. It also leaves the storyline in pieces: One minute, we see Jerilee whooping it up in bed with an apparently friendly nightclub owner; the next, he's physically forcing drugs on her. While it's doubtful that any of the performances were ever any good, the hack-and-splice method with which this picture was assembled appears to have made mincemeat out of both the players and the plot.