User reviews

It is silly the way we talk about movies. They are not meant for the ages but for slices of time. Once in a great great while one captures something eternal...8 1/2, Third Man, etcetera, but films are social chewing gum. Here is a fine example of an English director of the 1960s doing some turns that were fresh seeming and of the time...playing to the camera in the post dramatic sequence...don't tell me that wasn't and still would be a kick. And Sutherland's lisping soliloquy in the desert, my first awareness of the Canadian actor. A memorable film, one with some fans, many deprecators. But that's what makes horse races. Does sit hold up to critical analysis? Probably not, certainly not in the context of a lot that has followed. But lovely and fresh and exciting at the time, just like that first date with the sweet fresh girl who is now the woman with the scar from the auto accident. We change, the cinema changes. Films are not for the ages, after all, but acts of commerce sometimes tinged with art and freighted with our associations.

Michael Sarne wrote and directed this odd, sometimes-charming, sometimes-not chronicle of a wide-eyed art student in '60s London who falls in with a decadent crowd. Helium-voiced Genevieve Waite is like a cross between Anne Heche and Shirley Temple. She has fantasies of bathing nude in a pond full of lilies and being dried off by her girlfriend dressed as a maid, and later one featuring the same friend being strangled by her lover. "Joanna" is incongruous: Sarne is in love with old-fashioned trappings and modern techniques. Some of his shots are delectable (Waite crossing a bridge at sunset, or running down a pathway lined with trees), but the film's eye-candy needs something substantial to go with it. As to Waite's Joanna, I never understood the leading character or felt anyone on-screen did either (at one point, the girlfriend says to Joanna, "I don't sleep around as much as you do", but we never get the impression that Joanna is promiscuous--she seems only to want true love). Donald Sutherland gives the film's only solid performance as a fey Lord and the sharp, canny editing keeps the picture popping. Otherwise, the movie is just a mod bauble, and only a hint of true cleverness is left behind. ** from ****

I remember this film as one which helped to define my life in college in the late 60's. I must have seen it along with my friends 10 times. We had the songs memorized and would sing them everywhere. I can't really understand the negative comments about this film. I would really like to find a copy out there somewhere so I could see it again. Does anyone have a copy?

Joanna is a campy but enjoyable look at Mod Swingin' London. Coming near the end of 1968, it was probably the last of its genre and, as such, was ready to camp it up even if its filmmakers were not entirely conscious of this. To a certain extent, Joanna may even anticipate the nostalgia fad for the 30s and 40s that was to fully flower in the early 70s. Its self-consciousness as a film lacks the sharpness of the French New Wave and is instead more 70s self-indulgent. This is not a bad thing, however, since a benign self-indulgence is probably the film's main theme and its main virtue for those viewers who don't totally dismiss it.

My favorite part of the film occurs somewhere in the middle. Joanna, in bed with a man she picked up the night before, is forced to depart early when the man's wife unexpectedly returns home and enters the bedroom. Joanna gets out of bed nude, steps into a long, shocking pink 1930s-style gown, and leaves without saying a word. For the next several minutes of screen time, she walks through London while Rod McKuen's music plays on the soundtrack. When you think this can't go on for any longer, a male singer begins singing "When Joanna Loved Me", a song from earlier in the 60s. Now, instead of walking, we see Joanna smiling, chasing pigeons in a park, re-embracing life. Not quite the final moments of Fellini's Nights of Cabiria, but it works and it's worth at least one viewing.

I only remembered this movie because I was considering what movies would be on the "all time worst" list. In a packed house of a couple of thousand shut-ins on a Friday night in 1968 (think: famous military school), most people left the theater about half-way through it. These young men (and a few female dates), although mostly conservative-minded, were still eager to absorb the mod culture of the times, and probably had enjoyed movies such as "Alfie". I can still remember what those still left in the theater, towards the end, spontaneously and simultaneously yelled at the screen when Joanna said "I'll be back!" : "NO !!!!!!", throwing things at the screen. It was quite a moment. Never seen anything like it, since.

I'm sure that writer-director Mike Sarne thought he was developing a new cinematic paradigm when he was making Joanna, but the end result is less than satisfying. Genevieve Waite's over-the-top performance only makes sense by the time you reach the film's self-mocking conclusion, and by then you've had your fill of her. Rod McKuen's music is cloying and his singing is, as always, horrendous. Scott Walker's 'When Joanna Loved Me' is wasted during a cringeworthy 'dream' sequence. The excellent Calvin Lockhart (Halls of Anger, Room 222) can't save this film from the wretched performances of Waite and Donald Sutherland, who I've never seen to worse effect in his role as a dying aristocrat. An interesting period piece that has aged very badly.

This film could almost be viewed as the "let's-get-real" answer to "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner", a film that probably still could not get made in the U.S. As a snapshot of "swinging London" in the sixties, "Joanna" has it all. But Donald Sutherland absolutely steals this movie as Lord Peter Sanderson; his strange, wonderful, secular soliloquy on a Moroccan beach at sunset still provokes both goose pimples and tears. South African actress Genevieve Waite, who plays the wide-eyed heroine, was declared persona non grata in her native country after making this film, solely because of her love scenes with Calvin Lockhart (she later emigrated to the U.S. and married John Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas). All in all, a strange, wonderful, campy, mystic trip to the sixties.

Joanna was one of several films that had an impact on me then and have stuck with me since then, mainly because they informed me of places and lives of which I had never before been aware, being at that time, a typical American living in an America-centered universe.

This is a corny, sappy telling of the story of a young girl looking for...something: life, adventure, herself? We're not really sure. But for some reason it has stuck in my memory mostly because it seemed to be an extension of the style of films coming from the UK in the middle and late 60's. Another kind of "British Invasion".

Among these were: A Hard Day's night (1964), The Girl With Green Eyes (1964), and The Knack and How To Get it (1965), Blow Up (1966). They all seemed to have that quality of gritty cinema verite infiltrated with dreamlike, music filled montages; which became more silly and less gritty as the decade wore on. Examples; What Did You Do In the War Daddy? (1966), Casino Royale (1967), and Joanna (1968).

Yet, for all the silliness and sappiness that Joanna had to offer, there were also wonderful moments in the film, Donald Sutherland supplying the most; but others too in amusing little bits of curious dialogue ("He has only one name, you know, like Montavani. Nothing Montavani, Montavani nothing").

And, if you were a teenager then, amusing sight gags such as the one when Joanna is asked what she'd like to eat (in the scene, she is topless, showing small breasts); cut to frying pan with two frying eggs, sunny-side up - ha ha.

Overall, though not necessarily great film making, it is still an interesting and nostalgic period piece, that somehow left one with a sense of nostalgia even in 1968.

I get that Joanna is a sort of Candide, an innocent heroine whose adventures are probably meant to give the director an opportunity to comment on aspects of the culture. That she has (or should have) this larger function is the only thing that could justify the big song and dance at the end, which is supposed to show that Joanna's transit through the other characters' lives has turned them around, made them see beauty and sweetness and gentleness and other faux hippie-dippy nonsense that would have made Voltaire scream. Joanna might be interesting if she were a puzzle, but she is a blank, she can barely be said to have any behavior at all. She is a beautiful rag doll, and your only response when she is mistreated is to hope that getting taken for granted or slapped around (and her bleating sorrow that follows) won't mar her features. In a general way, of course, you hate to see a movie doing some of the things to a character that are done to Joanna unless there is some point to be made, and the best point that could be made in this kind of Candide story when, for instance, Joanna's boyfriend philosophizes that women want to be treated rough and then he does just that -- as I'm saying, the best point that could be made from this is that this is the way the world is, here are some of the terrible cracks exposed in the world Joanna lives in. But no, the movie goes along with the troglodyte attitude and Joanna responds the way her boyfriend intends she should. All this might still be fun in an archeological kind of way, i.e., look what passed for social philosophy in the Sixties, if there were any energy in the directing, the writing, the music or, barring all that, in more than one or two of the main performances. Joanna's a dead fish. Donald Sutherland is even worse, but for such a great actor to put in such a poor performance says a lot about the writing and directing (was there a dialect coach anywhere?), but especially the writing. Sutherland's part is easily the worst written of a badly written movie. How could it not be? He is meant to exemplify the psychedelic metaphysics of beauty and oneness that the movie makes pastel stabs at pushing, and he has to spout all this hooey about it and he is supposed to find its embodiment in that shapely potato, Joanna, and then he is supposed to die, which is the best thing he does. Do I need to summarize? When I and my co-workers start talking movies and nominating the worst movies ever made (we do spend more time on good movies than bad) Joanna is high on my list.

Just glancing through the couple of dozen IMDb reviews for this film, it is clear that there are as many 'hates' as 'loves' and almost nobody who thinks its just okay. A 'Marmite' movie you might say and perhaps with good reason. Why did I sit watching with a grin on my face throughout and a warm feeling despite some of the undoubted silliness and such a strange and varied performance from Candy-like Genevieve Waite? Almost inexplicable and yet there is something inherently charming and likeable abut something clearly created with much love that refuses to conform to one's expectations. Take the performance of Donald Sutherland. It is crazy. He is trying to be some blue-blooded English aristo but he can't really even do an ordinary English accent that well. It sounds like a joke impersonation complete with stuttering and elongated vowels but it is clear that he is having the time of his life. It is a wonderful performance through which it seems the viewer is glimpsing something of the actual person, despite the non traditional acting style (or because of it). There are some beautifully shot scenes, some mind boggling dialogue, lots of pretty girls and absolutely stacks of even prettier clothes. The music is varied and well selected and all in all the movie seemed to me a sheer delight. Sarne showed great promise here and the movie was not a disaster, that was the fate of his next (Myra Breckinridge - which I also liked) and that was it for the poor guy. Great shame but at least we have this perfect gem of a souvenir from that funny old year,1968.

In looking at the criticism of the movie Joanna particularly Ms Waite walk through acting style and her voice. Doesn't anybody remember Goldie Hawn? As well as the Rod McKuen soundtrack, sounds like Marvin Hamlisch in the "Way We Were." Both annoying. Finally, the ending what about the movie "Blazing Saddles?"

As for the movie, I thought the intellectual and love scenes were well done. To me, it looked like the director was honest in his portrayal of London in 1968 to the point of view of Joanna which the movie was about. I thought Calvin Lockhart stole the movie. Donald Sutherland did a great job. The German actor who played the art teacher was excellent. The interaction was excellent. Except what I mentioned above, the movie was good.

I'm sorry about Ms. Waite being blackballed from home country of South Africa for doing this movie but I really she was blackballed by Hollywood as well but they wanted that image and found one from the show "Laugh In".

This is a fairly typical English "Swinging 60's" movie.

Only there isn't a lot of swinging.

In fact, there isn't much at all.

So many films like this were made back then it takes something special to differentiate one from another and this sure didnt get pas the clutter.

It's a rather pedestrian rambling boring movie with little to recommend.

Musical free association, free love and fashion. Genevieve Waite, in the title role, was at the time flavor of the month, not really sure what quality other than oddity, she brings to the role.

Donald Sutherland is interesting but creepy. He spews some philosophy on death and reincarnation in his role as a terminally ill count. He brings some nuance to the story, but this does not sustain the film.

Some nice cinematography of Brighton Beach, London and the 1960's era, as well as Technicolor fashion and hair we now see routinely on the runway. Okay if you are up for free association and fluff, don't expect too much. 6/10.

Joanna goes to London to take fashion courses but instead spends most of the movie hanging about, sleeping with men and living a rather hollow lifestyle. Ultimately, she ends up pregnant and with few options other than to return home to her parents.

Rarely have I ever watched a film where I disliked the characters this much. Now it wasn't because they were evil...more because they lacked substance and were vacuous. After a short time, this becomes tedious as it is watching their various dull adventures. To make it worse, Joanna's voice is like that of a child...and hearing it really grated on my nerves. So, for me it was a tough film to enjoy...and more a glimpse into the sybaritic 1960s.

I remember absolutely nothing about this movie...but I will never forget the night that my wife & I went to see it. It was April 29, 1969. I was 22 years old, had graduated from college the previous June, married and had a 9-week old son. And my life was about to be turned upside down....and possibly ended in Vietnam....as I had to report to the local draft board to be inducted into the army at 9 AM the next morning. For some reason, we decided to go out for dinner and to see this movie. To say that I was in a state of total depression would be putting it mildly. With my mind the state it was in when I saw this movie, knowing that I was about to leave my job, my wife, my 9-week old son & my life as I knew it, I'm afraid that I can't help anyone with any kind of a review....but that night from 50 years ago lives in my memory as if it was only yesterday.

I saw it in 1968 in a theater in Willamette, Illinois and remember little of it now except for a dance line at the railway station and a sojourn in the desert. The reviewer ahead of me is probably right. Probably not a great movie but for some reason it struck me right at the time. I have been trying to find out anything about the film ever since. Only today did I find it here. I am happy to know it is not wholly forgotten. If anyone knows of a copy I would be very happy to see it

I knew there was something special about this movie after my law school roommate asked me out of the blue how many times I'd seen Joanna. Turned out he had another friend who spent every weekend looking for this movie in the theaters (we're talking pre-video tape days here folks). I remember being carried away by the romance of this movie, feeling totally part of the London scene it portrayed, and I liked Donald Sutherland (whom I'd never seen act before) quite a lot. I guess Genevieve Waite never made it big as a film actress, but that picture of her clothed only in a necktie that ran in the New York Times ad for this film, with the trailer "Cult Film of the Decade," sure made an impression on me in my early 20's. Highly recommended.

Director Michael Sarne would have the filmgoing public believe that the studios, the actors (in MYRA BRECKINRIDGE in particular), and 'the system' torpedoed his career. But, when one sees his single picture of note, JOANNA, on the big screen in a rare public showing - One discovers that the film world did not lose much. Composer Rod McKuen attended this weekend's American Cinemateque screening and revealed that the title character was a thinly autobiographical substitute for the director himself (Joanna's surname is 'Sarne' after all).

On paper, it would seem to make an exciting story - Young and handsome teen comes to London; Dresses in chic fashions; Hangs out with the 'in' crowd; Has sex with every other person one meets; Parties every night; Travels to exotic lands etc. How odd then that so much of the film wanders around aimlessly from venue to venue, from person to person, from incident to incident with so little meaning or consequence. It's rare that someone would find his own life so aimless. That aimlessness is certainly a part of what Sarne was after, but almost certainly not to the degree portrayed here.

To be fair, there are flashes of genuine artistic talent (and some can be mined from MYRA BRECKINRIDGE as well). The opening and closing title sequences are terrific, playful and inspired. Color, sound and editing are experimentmented with in interesting ways. A long sojourn to Morocco is both colorful and meaningful. The middle of the picture is indeed dominated by Donald Sutherland as a rich dude who takes Joanna and some friends to Africa. Affecting a bizarre stuttering accent, one can't help but be entertained, even if one suspects that much of the reaction of modern audiences is the result of familiarity with Sutherland more than the skill of the performance (indeed McKuen insisted that Sutherland's accent came and went so frequently that much of his performance had to be edited around and drowned in his music!).

Certainly an interesting document of its time (with the 'shocking' inclusion of not one but two interracial romances, free sex, and the intrusion of unnecessary violence into young people's lives - a nod to Vietnam?), JOANNA is a fascinating failure.

Mr. Sarne's portrait of an era, now seems often laughable and ludicrous, not unlike many other feature films that intended to demonstrate the importance of one single period, specially such a difficult one as the 60s - they just seem to loose their punch throughout the years. Although 'Joanna' does provide enjoyable, light moments, most of them are all too heavy handed, and unconnected. The movie relies on a number of senseless episodes to show us the story of a young woman yearning to find an adult identity in London, during the late 60s. What could be a sensible, lovely little story - if properly told - is wounded by Ms. Waite's inexperience, as she sleepwalks through the movie, and can only act appalled and shocked during the major conflicts of the story, Mr. Sarne's hideously pretentious, pompous direction, and Mr. Rod McKuen's tedious soundtrack, only highlighted at the movie's ending, in which the entire cast join in a train station singing the title tune - 'you fill our hearts with hope, your smile's like Cinemascope' - while Joanna departs to have her baby, still, as imature, childish and unprepared as she was in the beginning of the movie.

"Joanna" is almost impossible to find on videocassette -- for a good reason. Director Michael Sarne (Myra Breckinridge) uses superimpositions, dream sequences, extraneous sounds, alternating b&w/color, Altmanesque overlapping dialogue, and long-held static shots to "orchestrate" the story of an innocent, pleasure-seeking art student (Genevieve Waite) trying to find happiness in "mod" London. Joanna herself is a sweet creation and an endearing character. But Sarne's irritating direction nearly ruins the film.

Stylistically, "Joanna" is over-the-top, embarrassing, and laughably self-indulgent. A classic example: the scene where Joanna enters a room, dressed all in green, and everything else in the room is painted the exact same color. What was Sarne thinking?

Sarne's humour (eg. the scene with the "jam jars") consistently falls flat, and he never manages to get decent performances from his actors --even Donald Sutherland looks disoriented here.

Some (though not all) of the music (by Rod McKuen) is gorgeous -- particularly "Two Schoolgirls," the title song, "I'll Catch the Sun," and "Ain't You Glad You're Livin' Joe" --- making the o.o.p soundtrack LP a valuable, worthy find. But Sarne has no sense of how to pair music with image in a film --- so the songs feel thrown, haphazardly, on top of their scenes -- as if Sarne wanted to use the music, but didn't know how or where to include it.

A rare exception to this rule occurs during the final sequence - a musical number at a train station. Joyous and refreshing (and not simply because it signifies the end of the picture), the finale recalls the bittersweet mood/style of Jacques Demy's picture "The Umbrellas of Chebourg." Why didn't Sarne use this mood/style for the entire picture? It would have improved the film substantially.

The dialogue in "Joanna" is wildly uneven. It might be easy to dismiss the characters' lines as all trite and cliched, but that isn't the case. From time to time, you'll hear a bit of dialogue in this picture that is (intentionally) laugh-out-loud hilarious, and reveals greater depth to the characters. The best example is when Joanna meets her soon-to-be-lover, a black nightclub owner/hipster (Calvin Lockhart), and he exclaims, "Hey, Joanna -- how you been?" Joanna, who constantly tries to fit in with everyone, seems to miss the "hip" rhetoric of his question and responds limply, "I been fine. How you been?" as he speeds away. It's a funny, well-planned beat, but those are few and far between in this picture.

If you have the chance to see "Joanna," it's a mildly interesting experience, but I wouldn't recommend going out of your way to find a copy (as I did). This picture is a failed experimental effort from the sixties that deserves to be forgotten.

Wow. I wouldn't have believed 25 people actually watched this movie. From reading the reviews it seems like the finale was good. I didn't stay for it though. In fact I didn't stay much past the railway number. I saw what I could take of it on 8th St in the Village. I remember it being billed as Joanna - She's a Banana! No wonder that the "star" was run out of Britain after making this. Joanna stands out as the worst movie I ever saw in a theater, and that's by a long shot! I often think of it when I see a lousy movie. It serves as a baseline for comparison, so for that reason I'm glad I saw it. In 42 years, that's since 1968,I have not seen a worse movie. That's something to be thankful for.

I saw this movie in the theater when it first came out. I and the rest of the audience were appalled at how terrible it was. It was like an amateur film made by a college student who aspired to be 'artsy'. After all these years, I still remember how close I came to walking out of the theater. It may be worthwhile to see it just to confirm how bad it is. And the ending is not only unbelievable, but silly. This was one of the first times I ever saw Donald Sutherland. I still can not imagine why he chose to appear in it. I suspect this was made during his 'stoned' flower child period. I also liked Calvin Lockhart. He was also wasted in this movie. It would be interesting to know how much this movie cost to make and and how little it made.