SHAMPOO: Blu-ray (Columbia Pictures, 1975) Criterion Collection

Warren Beatty shags a bevy of high-strung beauties to his own detriment in Hal Ashby’s Shampoo (1975), a movie co-written by Beatty and Robert Towne. In an era before the celebrity culture of Hollywood hairdressers became world-renown, Shampoo tapped into the story of a disreputable lady’s man who exploits the innate intimacy of his profession, rather desperately to leverage his cocksmanship and blow-drying techniques for the ultimate gamble – to become his own man. The picture, set in and around the stunningly superficial oases of Beverly Hills and Bel Aire, creates its own artifice in hyperactive sexuality. One could easily drive a Bugatti full of Playboy bunnies through hairdresser, George Roundy’s awkwardly mangled character flaws. He cannot keep his appointments or stories straight. Beatty’s flamboyantly goony coiffe (why any woman would subject herself to George’s scissor-skills, if only to be judged by his own perpetually disheveled bouffant) and thoroughly idiotic wardrobe (consisting of painted-on jeans, frilly, unbuttoned tuxedo shirt, and, leather vest too sizes too small, even for Beatty’s anemic frame) somehow translate into the epitome of the atypical Californian stud that every amiable actress, teenage nympho, middle-aged housewife and fag hag could find acutely desirable at a glance.   

And Beatty (a.k.a hair stylist extraordinaire, George Roundy), badly bungling his way through the moneyed playgrounds of his exotic clientele, manages, at once, to be fiercely masculine yet infuriatingly vulnerable; seducing mother/daughter, Felicia (Lee Grant) and Lorna Karpf (Carrie Fisher as a bra-less nymphomaniac), his dizzy and insecure gal pal, Jill Haynes (Goldie Hawn), and up-and-coming actress, Jackie Shawn (Julie Christie), while able, at carefully parceled intervals, to muster a lament for Jill over his rake’s lack of progress, weeping truly genuine tears on Jackie’s well-tailored shoulders over the thought of losing her to wealthy businessman and political backer, Lester Karpf (Jack Warden).  Shampoo is well above par of what passed for comedy in the seventies. The Beatty/Towne screenplay is peppered in scintillating and frank exchanges of dialogue, unapologetic in bandying the word ‘fuck’ around, but in such a way as it registers more utilitarian than gratuitous or shamelessly vulgar. In the pre-AIDS decade of laissez faire sexuality – and, furthermore, within this idyllically perverse enclave devoted to mind and body broadening experimentation – a la California weirdness – we find a goodly sum of couples, threesomes – even foursomes – engaged in nude hot-tubing and the mellow art of smoking pot, casually navigating a cluttered house party, wearing all manner of explicit attire. Aside: the nipple-exposing blonde in the otherwise stretch-green latex bodysuit gets my vote for freak of this ‘to be seen’ scene.  

For all its dated pastiche (is this really the way we – or at least some of us - were?!?!), Shampoo is a fascinating time capsule, if not outright a condemnation of the post-modern/liberalized decline of western civilization, then, most definitely, a stirring critique into its hedonistic mindset, slavishly devoted to this ‘seen and be seen’ lifestyle that, even now seems permissibly genuine, generally jovial, and yet, somehow, slightly tragic and, at moments, very – very – sad. In spite of their affluence – or, in George’s case, his very close proximity to what can never be his - nobody in Shampoo is leading ‘the good life’.  Indeed, George would not know the good life if it reached out and tagged him on the crotch, as predictably, it does several times throughout this movie; from his loyal, yet clear-eyed girlfriend, Jill, who can recognize George is drowning in the mire of his own image as the stylist/stud du jour, or in George’s on again/off again detente with actress, Jackie Shawn. Interestingly, Jackie’s eye-candy sex appeal masks a far more intelligent creature lurking beneath the surface, so obviously in love with George, she would even risk her lucrative relationship with Lester’s sugar daddy by getting drunk and publicly going down on George during a Presidential fundraiser.

Shampoo kicks off on the eve of Richard Nixon’s election. George Roundy is a Beverly Hills’ hairstylist, much in demand and very much the object of many, many women’s affections. George is a star…well, sort of, constantly under the thumb of his boss, salon manager, Norman (Jay Robinson), who considers him no more than a necessary evil to keep his paying female clientele happy.  George could have it all.  If only he did not allow his ego to intervene and, even worse, lead with his crotch, instead of his brain. But George is not about to let a good wash n’ set go to waste. So, he presently finds himself the sex object of three women: his needy and insecure girlfriend, Jill, the wealthy, if unhappily married cougar on the prowl, Felicia, and, ostensibly, the girl he should have pursued above all others – accomplished and sexy, Jackie.  To all three – and many more – George plies his light touch and craft, both inside Norman’s salon and, more personally, in the bedroom.  Even with all his success and attention paid, George is increasingly dissatisfied with his professional life.  After all, he is working for somebody else…and, an ingrate. George would like nothing better than to tell Norman to go to hell and open his own rival salon. Problem: George is pretty much penniless. He does not even have the necessary credit to apply for a bank loan.

Turning to the wealthiest of his current lovers, Felicia offers George a leg up by encouraging her unsuspecting husband, Lester to bankroll his shop. George's first meeting with Lester is anything but smooth. Lester thinks – or rather, hopes – George is gay, as he suspects Felicia’s interests in George go beyond mere philanthropy. George plays it cagey, but stumbles when he discovers his on again/off again lover, Jackie, is actually Lester’s current mistress. Meanwhile, Jill begins to suspect George’s infidelities have gone beyond a mere indiscretion or two.  Her suspicions are confirmed by George. Rather sincerely, he openly admits to being a cad. To make George jealous, Jill lines up a date with her loyal agent, Johnny Pope (Tony Bill), as an escort to a swank Republican Party fundraiser. George too has been invited as a chaperone for Jackie by Lester, who is attending with his wife. Over the next few days, things reach a heady pitch as Lester nearly walks in on Jackie and George making love on the floor in her bathroom. The couple fake an impromptu ‘house call’ hair appointment that seems to buy back George’s credibility with Lester as a homosexual. But then, hurrying to Felicia’s to do her hair just prior to the big night out, George encounters the Karpf’s promiscuous daughter, Lorna, who openly confronts him about her suspicions of an affair between her mother and him. George, again, plays it safe, but is caught off guard when Lorna invites him to bed.

Taking advantage of the girl, George is discovered by Felicia exiting Lorna’s private bathroom. To assuage her anxieties about what might have transpired just moments earlier, Felicia drags George to her bedroom and forces herself on him. At the Republican gathering, George is introduced around the room by Lester, who is still quite oblivious to the fact his wife, mistress and daughter have all had him in bed. Encouraged by Lester to squire Jackie, because she is apt to drink too much and make a fool of herself, George quickly loses control of his charge. Jackie gets drunk and goes down on George right at the table. Embarrassed, Lester asks George to leave and Jackie accompanies him to a posh counterculture party in the Hollywood hills. Disgusted by her husband’s behavior, for it is now quite clear he and Jackie have been having an affair, Felicia drives off, leaving Lester stranded. Jill and Johnny offer to drive him home. But first, they too arrive at the same unhinged and hedonistic house party where eager twenty-somethings are indulging in rampant drugs, alcohol, and promiscuity.

While Jill and Johnny get to know one another better on an intellectual plain, Lester is invited by a trio of hot tubers to strip bare and join in. Told he can find clean towels up at the pool house near the tennis courts, Lester sneaks off and discovers Jill and Johnny already there, quietly having a conversation. They are distracted by more primal grunts coming from just inside, the door on a nearby refrigerator becoming ajar – its dim light revealing Jackie and George having passionate sex on the floor.  Outraged, Jill throws a deck chair through the plate glass window. Lester storms off, as do Jill with Johnny in hot pursuit. George makes a desperate attempt; first, to catch up to Jill. He fails. George then tries to return to Jackie who, having already dressed, drives off in a huff before he can catch up to her. The next day, Lester invades George’s home with a trio of hired thug muscle to rough him up. But first, Lester wants to hear George’s side of the story. To this inquiry, George simply admits that women have always been desirable to him. They are curious creatures, however, and, as much a mystery even as he gets to know them intimately. Lester cannot argue with George’s assessment and leave him unharmed. Too little/too late, George realizes Jackie is his only love. He pursues her from her bungalow to a nearby hilltop and proposes with great sincerity. Alas, Jackie reveals she has already agreed to marry Lester, whom she does not love, but will take advantage of because he is rich. George’s pleas for reconsideration fall on deaf ears. After Jackie acknowledges her enduring love for him too, she nevertheless returns to her bungalow where Lester is waiting with flowers and two plane tickets to Acapulco. As George observes from a distance, Lester’s limo drives off with Jackie in tow. And although Lester has forgiven him his indiscretions, even still offering to float his dreams for a posh salon in Beverly Hills, can George find it in his heart to forgive himself? After all, he has sacrificed everything for nothing?

Shampoo actually asks a lot more questions than it answers about human desire and the fragility of male/female love in a society, perhaps too free and open in its sexuality for its own good. Moving at an elevated cadence in its promiscuity, arguably than most outside of Southern California, Shampoo nevertheless addresses a fundamental human tragedy that is highly relatable: two people, meant for each other, yet destined never to actually live up to the promise of their status as soul mates. Lost in the shuffle between carnal lust and rank ambitions is real love. Where is it? Not found among Hollywood’s hoi poloi, apparently. The epic void left behind by this ‘change partners’ daisy chain leaves a chasm impossible for any of our ensemble to cross. Part of what makes the story work so spectacularly well (it really is more than a farce-laden sex comedy) is Warren Beatty’s soulful performance as the hapless and hopelessly misunderstood, even more uniquely vulnerable hairstylist. George Roundy can cut hair. Too bad he cannot get the tangles out of the mess that is his own life. Julie Christie and Goldie Hawn distinguish themselves in parts that allow for an exercise of their finely-honed acting chops as well as their exquisitely toned bodies. Jill’s confronting George about his infidelities is a real tour de force for Hawn who shows great depth and unusual intensity. Christie’s moment of triumph comes right at the end; Jackie’s tearfully acknowledgement of George’s affections, only to cruelly disappoint him by running off with Lester instead. In support, Lee Grant and Jack Warden are adequate in roles that never tax their formidable range. A very young Carrie Fisher startles us with her forthright adult jadedness. In the end, a good time is had by all…or, at least those viewing Shampoo, a foamy mixture of sex, sorrow and smiles – laughter through tears, and sadness that rings too true for too many.

Criterion’s Blu-ray is advertised as deriving from a new 4K scan. Never having seen Shampoo theatrically, I suspect the 35mm elements were as thickly textured and heavily grain-laden. Colors are not punchy, as László Kovács’ cinematography is going for the B-vintage earthy ‘of the moment’ feel that was very fashionable in movies made throughout the 1970’s. This is accurately reproduced in 1080p with a dense grain structure that, at intervals, can almost be a little too heavy for its own good – especially, during sequences photographed at night. Even so, Shampoo on Blu-ray looks very film-like.  We get two soundtracks: Criterion’s verve for preserving the original mono in PCM, and a re-designed DTS 5.1 courtesy of Sony – the studio responsible for this remastering effort – another quality affair. The big disappointment for me here is the extras. I think I have probably been spoiled by Criterion packing on the goodies – in some cases, with hours and hours of well-informed extra content. But no. We get no audio commentary and only 2 video supplements: a half hour tête-à-tête with critics, Mark Harris and Frank Rich (who also supplies liner notes) that is deeply informative, and, at barely 12 min., an all too brief 1998 excerpt from Warren Beatty’s appearance on The South Bank Show. Bottom line: Shampoo is a frank, unapologetic and absorbing dramedy that will surely find new fans with this Blu-ray release. Good stuff here and well worth your coin.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

2