X, Y and Zee

Too late to the party to be a convincing portrait of swinging London, X, Y and Zee, released in early 1972, is a boozy and tart love triangle. Edna O'Brien's original screenplay was considerably altered by director Brian G, Hutton much to Ms. O'Brien's dismay and rancor. In her memoir, Ms. O'Brien writes that "the result was a tame offering, with all the meatiness squeezed out of it." 👄Zee is played by Elizabeth Taylor and is uneasily wed to a successful architect, Robert (Michael Caine). Their union is volatile, with each having had amours on the side, and infertile. Robert falls for a placid widow, Stella (Susannah York), who has twin boys. Zee stalks the two lovers and resorts to a histrionic suicide attempt to win back her man. Zee insinuates herself with Stella, prodding her opponent for weaknesses, and is ultimately able to build a wedge between her and Robert.  

I half liked the film, though it is a bit tatty around the edges. The party scenes are so slackly choreographed that they come off as silly and artificial, even with (or is it especially because of) Margaret Leighton in a fright wig. The shag cuts on Ms. York and Mary Larkin are even scarier. The costumes are a baroque horror with psychedelia giving way to funky fringes. Glam lurks as yet undetected. The music is even worse: whether it be Stanley Meyers' traditional score or the contributions of various Rock assemblages. There is a credit to Sergio Soldan for "Fur Creations worn by Miss Taylor"; not something you see on film crawls these days. 

However, there is enough energy and wit in Ms. O'Brien's view of heterosexual relationships as S&M laced Punch and Judy shows to pass the time. The script's zingers are well performed by the cast even when Mr. Hutton's pacing seems a beat behind. Caine and York are more than good in bland roles, but Ms. Taylor is the emotional pivot point of the film and its prime attraction. Her English accent is shaky, but she has a ball playing an unrepentant bitch who will do anything she can to get Ms. York and her scrawny ass out of her husband's life. Ms. Taylor has to endure jokes about her size and about plastic surgery. Booze is on her nightstand and her vanity. Yet, she emerges triumphant, giving the film the vulgarity and juice it needs with her outsized mugging. It ranks as one of her best performances, alongside those in National Velvet and A Place in the Sun. 

👄 Edna O'Brien, Country Girl, pg. 211