Synopsis
It's kinky.
A young playwright who writes porno novels to overcome a writer's block, lives the fantasies of one of his books, while trying to move with his wife from one apartment into a larger one.
Move
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USA
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USA
31 Jul 1970
- Theatrical
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JANUARY 2021 STAR OF THE MONTH: ELLIOTT GOULD (#17)
Pure Gould, you say? Do tell!
One of the driving forces behind my creating a Star of the Month series in 2021 was how much I enjoyed Elliott Gould's performance in The Silent Partner, but an even greater impetus was my interest in watching Move. It's the big-screen adaptation of a now extremely obscure Joel Lieber novel from 1968 (I'll say more on the author at the review's end), directed by Stuart Rosenberg three years after his breakthrough success with Cool Hand Luke. Lieber and Stan Hart adapted the surreal journey of Oscar Jaffe, a once-successful New York playwright who has turned to dog-walking to make ends meet and is concerned…
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After Hours if it was made 15 years earlier and starred Elliott Gould. Features a killer title sequence that's better than the actual movie. Not a masterpiece by any means but still an interesting cultural artifact. I loved the surreal, proto-Adult Swim vibe to it.
Within the same year, Gould became an Oscar nominee and starred in two mega hits: 1969's Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice followed by 1970's MASH. He was on the cover of Time magazine - billed as a "Star for an Uptight Age." Hard to believe there was a brief moment where the coolest guy in all of Hollywood could also be one of the kookiest. Move was unforunately his first big flop during that period.
Lots…
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Anxiety-riddled porno writer/dog walker (Gould) misplaces himself in one of his novels and loses touch with reality. He butts heads with the institution at every turn when he attempts to move from one NYC apartment to another. The movers are some mystical, shadow organization. The police cite him for every malfeasance. The telephone company is something like a team of Navy Seals. Cigar-chomping voice on the telephone surveils him and reports about the activities of his wife. Every woman becomes some form of a sex-kitten/truth-teller. Now. Filter all this through the early 1970's-era Gould filmography where "evil" modernity becomes a disruption in being human.
Some nice dialogue between Gould and the unpredictable and reasonably loopy Paula Prentiss. Off-kilter but often unappealing cinematography reinforces the hyperreality of Gould's existence. Uneven pacing. Drags when Gould's character claws himself back to reality.
Essential Peak Gould deep cut. Probably for fans only.
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Figured out how to see an uncut (if not properly OAR’d) version of this allegorical steamer, with Elliott Gould as a dogwalker and porn author who’s getting the runaround in life from the moving company set to take him and his wife (Paula Prentiss) and all their problems from one Manhattan apartment to another. Lotta Philip Roth phonemes, lotta fantasy, lotta hoo-hah and nonsense but I enjoyed it more than Little Murders (don’t @ me). Cool opening shot of the Deuce, with visible marquees for Russ Meyer’s Finders Keepers, Lovers Weepers, and Umberto Lenzi’s Paranoia (Orgasmo). Movie is fine, watch it or don’t, but Gould fanatics won’t be let down.
Thinking of Fox’s contract with Genevieve Waite. What the hell!
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“wish you are as magical in bed as you are with your typewriter.”
dir. Stuart Rosenberg takes you on a whirlwind journey involving dogs, erotic tales, and the stressful notions of moving into a new place. i swear, the things you have to endure for a thirst watch because this felt like a TV movie — opening credits with a theme song and everything and the version i was watching was seemingly recorded by a VCR.
in this, Elliott Gould plays Hiram Jaffe, an aspiring playwright who makes ends meet by writing erotica (also to overcome his writer’s block) and walking dogs. during this period, he also has to deal with an unseen mover who refuses to move his and…
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Existing in New York with his wife (Paula Prentiss) throws an adult writer/dog walker (Elliott Gould) into diverting dreams, in Stuart Rosenberg’s comedy.
The story concerns a trio of days in the life of Hiram Jaffe (Elliott Gould), a would-be playwright who sections his life as an adult writer and by walking dogs.
He and his wife, Dolly (Paula Prentiss), are locating to a new apartment on New York’s Upper West Side. Hiram is beset by difficulties, including his failure to convince the locating man to move the couple’s furniture, and withdraws into fantasy.
Elliott Gould gives an unconvincing performance in his role as the adult playwright who shows very little determination in terms of what to do with himself,…
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52 films I will watch in 2024: #25
A sex comedy starring Elliott Gould as a writer of porno novels sounds like a gold mine, and while this maybe doesn’t quite live up to that potential it’s still a fascinating curio with plenty of pizzazz. Cool Hand Luke director Stuart Rosenberg fills Move with stylistic flourishes reminiscent of French New Wave — jagged editing, sidebar vignettes that play out like absurdist short films amidst a loose skeleton of a story to give it some sense of structure. What holds it all together is Gould’s irrepressible charm in the center, a reminder that we used to have movie stars like this and god damn if he wasn’t the sexiest thing around.
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Sort of sub Roth stuff about a horny blocked writer with far too much imagination and not very sure about his new family responsibilities. It is held together by Elliott Gould who is predictably great as this kind of neurotic and does a lot of heavy lifting towards making the movie grounded. Some inspired bits although not all the absurd touches land and the meanings can be obvious. Great dog. Stuart Rosenberg directs with his usual whatever works on this scene approach, but it is one of his more credible efforts. Also a curiosity, this was the last movie shot by William
Daniels and very strange to see a guy who used to shot for Lubitsch and Garbo working on this kind of register.Translated from by -
Vintage horny guybrain movie that made me laugh a decent amount. Plenty of big hairy Elliott Gould arse, so everyone's happy.
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One thing you gotta say about Gould - he sure don't mind showing off that glorious back pelt.
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Anxiety-ridden by his impending move*, struggling playwright Hiram Jaffe escapes into the world of his adult novels like a hairy shouting Walter Mitty. Peak Gould matching wits with verbally elastic wife Paula Prentiss is endlessly endearing, supplemented by whimsical dog-walking montages, paranoid moving company fantasies, and explanations of Zoroastrian belief systems. It loses steam by the hour mark, but it's a lost gem nonetheless.
TW: This involves an uncomfortable amount of Naked Gould.
*The best titular line experience of 2015 that doesn't involve Richard Burton
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Pulpy and smutty (and hairy) sex comedy from Rosenberg. Gould stars as a playwright who slums it writing porno novels, and gets lost in one of his plots as he’s moving apartments with his wife. Prentiss is lovely as always, offering an emotional grounding to the screwball sex antics that Gould sells with excellent nervous work. The film looking as grungy and dime-store as it does makes sense thematically, even if it isn’t inviting visually.
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