Strawberries Need Rain (Larry Buchanan, 1970)

After churning out such Grade-Z efforts as Zontar: The Thing from Venus (1966) and Mars Needs Women (1967) for AIP's television syndication packages, Larry Buchanan tried to hoodwink the art-house crowd with a preposterous Ingmar Bergman copy called Strawberries Need Rain (1970). According to Buchanan (not that I believe exploitation film directors' claims about their product), the ploy worked. He convinced a theatre operator outside of Southern Methodist University to run it as the latest Bergman film and presumably, arty college kids fell for it. A 1986 Texas Monthly profile maintains that "[o]ne of the high points of Buchanan's life was hearing students dissect the symbolism of his thrown-together fake in hushed, reverent tones" (212). Oh yes - us arty types are such dopes.

Listen, listen - part of the reason we sit through obnoxious art films is for a peek at all manner of perverse subject matter. It's the thesis of one of my all-time favorite pieces of film criticism - John Waters' "Guilty Pleasures" (available in his collection Crackpot) in which he surfs the thin line between exploitation and art by hawking Marguerite Duras as a punk and pleading with Bergman to get started on Brink of Life II. Sarno lulls, Pasolini titillates, and there's no reason to feel stupid (or guilty) for loving the filmographies of either.

So when I deem Strawberries Need Rain preposterous, I mean to signal the immense pleasure I took in it. I was compelled to finally watch this thing from Texas due to its inclusion in the Early-70s Second-Tier Bummer Party, a home-viewing series curated my pal Whit Strub which he describes as "going for that post-1968, pre-Jaws 'we blew it' vibe, beneath the New Hollywood auteurs but above the SWV/Vinegar Syndrome grindhouse goldmine." Based on the novella In a Certain Village by Victor Brun (yeah, I don't believe that either), Strawberries Need Rain conveys the somnambulant, anything-but-Saturday-night feel of other films in Whit's series such as Z.P.G. (Michael Campus, 1972) and a little something called Some Call It Loving.

Trash-film stalwart Monica Gayle stars as Erika, a young gal from Texas Hill Country (which supposedly looks like Bergman's Sweden) who is confronted by Death in the form of Les Tremayne wielding a scythe. He gives her 24 hours to live and in classic exploitation form, she uses her remaining time to devirginize. It doesn't go well with childhood friend Franz (an incredible unseasoned performance by Terry Mace) or mean biker Bruno (Paul Bertoya). But the deed finally gets done by Erika's former teacher, the Quixote-quoting Gertie (Gene Otis Shane) before a twist ending. The film features many of the hallmarks of art cinema: time-wasting scenes of driving/walking, mood-ruining music cues, jarring temporal shifts, disembodied one-liners, frequent underreaction, etc. in addition to Buchanan's characteristic day-for-night shooting. I found its 85 minutes utterly hypnotic and long to see it at either 4pm or 4am in a theatre sometime soon (or at least on a Mill Creek Entertainment box set).

Grade: A

And check out the poster below! Dig that Oscar! And know that those "Top Hits in America" are two dippy folk tunes played throughout. I've transcribed the lyrics below.

"Strawberries Need Rain"

Bluebirds need wings
And a dream needs a dreamer
Cornfields need golden grain

And I need love
Like the dawn needs the sunlight
And strawberries need rain

Butterflies need to be free
Or they never will fly
And they'll die

Apples need autumn
Like April needs springtime
Summer a shady lane

I need to love
To be loved, to be living
Like strawberries, strawberries need rain

"Yellow Blue & Green"

Yellow and green and blue
Are they colors or are they feelings
Or could they be tomorrow's painted memories stealing through?
Yellow and green and blue

I'm jealous of the yellow daffodils
I'm jealous of the golden sun
I'm jealous for they all will still be here
But I'll be gone

I'm envious of every blade of grass
Of every leaf on every tree
I envy them for they will be with you
Instead of me

The sky above my head is smiling on
The sadness showing in my face
I'm sad because I wish I didn't have to be
Some other place