Rating summary

Movie		1.5
Video		4.0
Audio		3.0
Extras		3.5
Overall		3.0

The Telephone Book Blu-ray Movie Review

Sex is no longer cool.

Reviewed by Brian Orndorf June 15, 2013

Perhaps experimental sex comedies were a dime a dozen in the early 1970s, but I fail to see a reason why anyone would get all worked up over “The Telephone Book.” About as arousing as a tax audit and funny as jury duty, the picture is a surreal journey into random confessions and pig-masked monologuing, imagining itself to be a wonderland of carnal delights and cutting satire, wafting over its audience like a wave of marijuana smoke. For the clean and impatient in 2013, “The Telephone Book” emerges as an oddity from 1971, but not a particularly compelling one. With its outlandishness napping and its sense of humor missing, this X-rated relic is best served to fans of obscure exploitation cinema, those brave souls able to somehow appreciate the feature’s idiosyncrasies and its Vietnam-era taboo-smashing tastes.

Alice (Sarah Kennedy) lives in a New York City apartment decorated with pornographic images and knickknacks. She’s a sexual being who enjoys masturbation and playful games, but she really gets off on obscene phone calls, with rotary dial work from an unknown man, identifying himself as Mr. Smith (Norman Rose), bringing Alice to orgasmic heights. Questing to find Mr. Smith via telephone book cold calling, Alice races around town, greeting perverts and lovers who can spare a few dimes or time with their phones, helping the woman find her gloved Romeo who wears a pig mask and claims he can seduce the President of the United States.

“The Telephone Book” is written and directed by Nelson Lyon, who went on to participate in the early years of “Saturday Night Live,” also achieving infamy as John Belushi’s partner during the drug-binge weekend that took the superstar’s life. It’s difficult to deduce exactly what the helmer was looking to accomplish with this semi-experimental picture, as it often takes a scattergun approach to Alice’s adventures around town, broken up into vignettes separated by confessional scenes where reformed perverts (including Dolph Sweet and Lucy Lee Flippin) discuss their old habits, listening to one woman describe using fecal matter to stimulate herself, while a gentleman shares his fondness for collecting nasal cavity debris in his pockets.

Lyon has debatably interesting tastes, and the script is peppered with strange encounters for dear, deceptively sweet Alice, eventually meeting up with a subway flasher (Roger C. Carmel) who uses a change dispenser as a stand-in for his ejaculating penis, while a female stranger deploys a variety of vibrators on our heroine as she places calls on a bedroom phone to continue her search for Mr. Smith. There’s also an extended visit with Har Poon (Barry Morse), a stag film actor working on his magnum opus with a harem of naked women, inviting Alice in on the heaving, thrusting art. There’s craziness swirling around the picture, which resembles a counterculture production that lost its mojo halfway through filming, turning to randomness as an expression of outrageousness.

Actual comedic value is subjective, but I couldn’t find anything resembling humor in the effort, just off-key jabs at shock value, all of which sink like a stone under Lyon’s sleepy watch. Of course, this is the era that gave the world “Myra Breckenridge,” so perhaps clarity of thought wasn’t the trend of the day.

“The Telephone Book” is brightened immensely by Kennedy, who gives off serious Goldie Hawn vibes in the lead role, delivering genuine sex appeal and soda pop charms. It’s a shame there’s not more for her to do besides smile and undress, as Lyon hands the lion’s share of dialogue to the supporting men, including a considerable amount of speechifying from Rose as Mr. Smith, who spends the final act of the movie sharing his history as a NASA test subject and rise as an obscene phone caller with a captivated Alice. While Rose works through pages of dialogue with dignity, Lyon effectively kills off any momentum “The Telephone Book” enjoyed up to this point, content to point a camera at a man in a pig mask and have him share lackluster tall tales.

The Telephone Book Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

The AVC encoded image (1.85:1 aspect ratio) presentation emerges from numerous 35mm print sources, and considering how obscure "The Telephone Book" is, its Blu-ray debut is actually quite appealing. The prints are understandably in rough shape, with damage, dirt, and harsh reel changes, but it's manageable aging, rarely distracting. Grain is largely intact, with a welcome filmic appearance that identifies changing stocks and processes. Fine detail is available for study, offering textures on the feature's ample amount of nudity, while room decoration is easily surveyed, along with varied street life. Mr. Smith's pig mask is also crisply exposed. Blacks are agreeable and communicative, while whites are controlled, never blown out beyond recognition. The color burst in the finale brings about heavy reds, making an immediate impression, stable and fresh. While rough around the edges, the care to bring what remains of "The Telephone Book" to Blu-ray shows, and while it lacks an exhaustive restoration and access to the original negative, what's here is perfectly suitable.

The Telephone Book Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

The 2.0 Dolby Digital sound mix is basic in design and execution, with a satisfactory frontal position that manages the extremes of the track without much in the way of distortion. Dialogue exchanges are balanced, with rerecording keeping verbal activity crisp, while musical efforts hold steady as intended, supporting the visual elements without aggressive emphasis. There's a natural shrillness here that's easy to handle, arriving with a few of the more anarchic explorations of animation and comedy. Again, the age of the prints and the obscurity of the title factor into minor elements of hiss and pops, but as a whole, "The Telephone Book" makes an accurate impression on the ears.

The Telephone Book Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Commentary with producer Merv Bloch (with superfan Joe Rubin) is quite valuable, helping to explain just what the heck is going on with this effort. Rubin is a fine moderator, encouraging Bloch to share anecdotes about the picture, memories of director Nelson Lyon (who died in 2012), and explore his own history with film marketing (rubbing elbows with Roman Polanski and Stanley Kubrick). Bloch is prepared and willing to share, exposing some valuable backstory on the movie and its many characters. While not as screen-specific as hoped, the conversation is key to understanding "The Telephone Book" and its endless mystery. Rubin takes over time in the final 10 minutes of the track to dissect the restoration process.

• Still Gallery collects 43 images from the production, including on-set activity, press kit pages, and newspaper ads. There are a few terrific shots here, especially BTS photos of Lyon directing and Rose without his pig mask. For "The Telephone Book" fanatics, a few images of a lost Andy Warhol segment are included.

• Radio Spots (3:32) are accompanied by a slow pan over poster art.

• Reissue Trailer (2:06, HD) is rather curious, retitling the film "Hot Number" and colorizing the footage to keep any trace of black and white out, hoping to appeal to a wide audience.

• And an Original Trailer (:38, SD) is included.

The Telephone Book Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

"The Telephone Book" makes a transition to color in the final reel, eventually switching over to animation as Mr. Smith and Alice finally experience the pleasures they've been seeking. It's an R. Crumb fantasyland of walking penises and gaping vaginal imagery that's roughly crafted, and, like everything else in this numbing picture, it drags on for far too long. I'm all for a bonanza of oddity and naughty behavior, yet "The Telephone Book" remains an insufferable grab bag of encounters and staring contests, missing its moon shot to become a triumphant cult experience, whiffing with its allegedly provocative elements.