MOMENT BY MOMENT: Blu-ray (Universal, 1978) Kino Lorber

So thoroughly savaged in 1978, that it all but put a period to the seemingly indestructible pop iconography of its co-star, John Travolta, and so completely obliterated from the hearts and minds of movie goers that it has never been given a proper home video release, despite finding an audience on cable TV, director, Jane Wagner’s Moment By Moment (1978) somehow emerged as a horrendously maudlin love story between a middle-aged Beverly Hills housewife, played by Lily Tomlin and living in her Arctic desolation in a Malibu beach house, and, the twenty-something stud-du-jour (Travolta) who transforms her boredom into an erotically charged last stab at happiness. In the mid-90’s, Travolta mused about the instant devastation the picture wrought to his career, adding “…you'd have thought I'd have sunk the Titanic. I was so mistreated as a result of that film that I can never again take any of it seriously. So, I guess I learned that you've got to be tough and expect the worst, but nothing could be worse than that.” Indeed, the critics eviscerated this movie as trite trash.  For Travolta, at least, there were other reasons to reflect with a lack of fondness. He made Moment by Moment under duress, having only just lost the love of his life, Eight Is Enough actress, Diana Hyland to cancer.

As for Lily Tomlin, she and Wagner were involved as closeted lovers at the time – a secret, later unearthed. The couple have been wed since 2013. Wagner, who also wrote the screenplay here, has created the sort of ‘movie of the week’ milieu that never soars, either to romantic, or even cheaply erotic heights, despite the fact Travolta spends a good deal of this movie doing a scantily clad nine minutes of Vinnie Barbarino, the loose-limbed cock of the walk he created for TV’s Welcome Back Kotter (1975-79). Alas, what works of TV doesn’t necessarily make the successful translation to the big screen, especially in expansive Panavision. Phillip Lathrop’s gorgeous cinematography creates a sort of sun-filled ‘California cool’ to envelope these characters. But nothing can account or rescue them from the vacancies in Wagner’s brutally love-starved script.  Travolta’s moon-doggie grifter, Strip Harrison and Tomlin’s uptight WASP, Trisha Rawlings initial meet is more ‘dumb’ than ‘cute’ – she, putting up every roadblock in the ‘ice princess’ playbook, with his perpetually grinning, half-naked ‘aw shucks, you know you like me – don’t you?’ wearing incredibly thin during the first 40-minutes. 

There is, in fact, a natural ebb and flow to all romance movies in which the primal dance between the amiable and flashy male, and socially reserved female of his choosing ultimately gives way to the inevitable meeting of their minds and the flesh in a splurge and flourish of passionate embraces and wet kisses. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. But Moment by Moment delays this anticipation for far too long – and, longer than actually needed – with Trish’ being deliberately cruel and aloof. Strip refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer, to the point where his lingering about after blatantly being told to ‘get lost’ transgresses from the admirable pursuit and procurement of their mutual pleasure to an uncomfortable ‘stalking’ quality. If not for Travolta’s piercing blue eyes, radiating puppy-dog glances aplenty, Strip would otherwise have creeped out even the most austere and confident of women to pull out the pepper spray and get a restraining order. The big problem with Moment by Moment is that it is almost exclusively the Tomlin/Travolta show. Yes, there are other characters in it. But none are drawn beyond a thumbnail sketch. Andra Akers is Naomi, Trish’s well-intend gal/pal who otherwise helps to muddy the waters of her burgeoning romance with Strip. Bert Kramer is Stu Rawlings, an ex of Trish’s years who gave her up for his own twenty-something plaything but now wants her back…maybe. Apart from one or two scenes to feature these supporting figures in incredibly awkward and stilted performances, neither gets established as an anchor or tent-pole to support this plot.  

When a movie gets this bad a wrap, it is usually justified. And Moment by Moment produced by the seemingly indestructible Robert Stigwood, is hardly high art.  Indeed, its treacle is thick, its premise – a May/December romance that eventually works out – anemic, and, the performances by Tomlin and Travolta, bereft, not only of the essential spark of romantic ardor to make the thing ‘click’ as it should, but occasionally, even the good sense God gave a lemon to know better. And yet, despite these shortcomings, Moment by Moment is not exactly the turkey that arrived just in time for Universal’s big Christmas release of that year. It did, in fact, rake in $11 million at the box office in 1978 – not an earth-shattering take, to be sure, but marking both the debut and swan song of Wagner’s non-existent directorial career. We first meet Trish, immaculately coiffed and strolling down Rodeo Drive on root to Schwab’s Drug Store. The pharmacist (John O’Leary) quickly informs Trish she has expired her quota of sleeping pills. Enter Travolta’s Strip, inquiring about his friend – a drug dealer, fired for skimming off the till. Inexplicably, Strip latches onto Trish as she departs in a huff. He pursues her to the parking lot and reminds her of a thoroughly forgettable moment when, as a valet working one of her house parties, he was accused by her husband, Stu or causing a dent in the fender of their Mercedes. Trish confessed to making the dent herself.

Apparently, this was a watershed moment of kindness ingrained in Strip’s memory. Not so much for Trish, who barely recalls the incident until Strip outlines every last detail. Even then, she is unimpressed by his persistence, more so when Strip unexpectedly turns up on the stretch of sand near her beach house and becomes even more of a nuisance as the day wears on, inveigling his way into a blanket to share her chicken and chianti lunch. Despite her reluctance, Trish makes the obvious mistakes of all middle-age women sailing rudderless into uncharted waters. She drops hints of her life and begrudgingly answers Strip’s inquiries. Naturally, he assumes he is making headway. Strip procures a few sleeping pills for Trish. Despite knowing nothing about him, she takes this medication to go to sleep. As one good deed deserves another, Trish decides to pay to get Strip’s car fixed at a local mechanic after he breaks down on the side of the road.

However, when Strip’s pal is arrested, and later, dies at the hands of suspected mafia players, Trish recognizes a kindred spirit in Strip. He is just as lost, confused and floating in the ether of life. And thus – and finally – the real story of their flawed and frequently interrupted flagrante delicto begins to take shape. We get interminable ‘movie of the week’ weakly executed scenes of pity sex, masquerading as love-making. Trish battles her own “he loves me/he loves me not” demons. Naomi offers some bad advice. Stu turns up unexpectedly at an art gallery show, causing Strip to become momentarily jealous. He runs away. Naomi and Trish go trolling the seedier parts of town, desperately in search of Strip. Eventually, we get the predictably ridiculous scene where both lovers try to falsely hurt one another, presumably to test the resiliency of their affections for one another. Trish reverts back to her cool and distant nature and Strip suggests it will only be a few years before she begins to resemble his grandmother. Of course, neither believes the other’s cruelty. Nevertheless, Strip departs. Realizing the error of her judgement, and furthermore, resolved in her love for him, Trish remembers Strip was headed to nearby Colton to give the parents of his late pal the most recent photo he had taken of their son. Of course, Strip’s car breaks down again, allowing Trish to catch up to him on the side of the highway. She presents him with a note that reads ‘Happy Birthday’. The two reconcile, with the penultimate moments revealed in a series of Polaroid’s, depicting their subsequent life together.

It’s easy to see why Moment by Moment was crucified by the critics. The plot here is less than wafer thin and comes to a dead stop immediately after Trish and Strip’s cute meet, devolving thereafter into a series of mercilessly mundane vignettes, cumulatively to become less and less important, and thoroughly absent of virtually any iconic moments or memorable bits of dialogue to leave even a fleeting impression in either the heart or the mind. It’s a disposable ‘entertainment’ at best, with the pall of a ‘Dear John’ letter left to die, rather than ripen on the vine. Travolta and Tomlin give us ‘impressions’ rather than performances. He plays to the cliches he perceives as his ‘strengths’ while Tomlin, best known for her rare gifts as a comedienne, herein is desperately trying to become a ‘serious’ actress. Not much else to say about this one. It looks great in Panavision, but is lethally dull in its execution. If nothing else, Moment by Moment is a time capsule from a vintage in American picture-making when Hollywood really had no clue how to re-tell the classic romance stories of yore, particularly in that burgeoning and graceless age to have replaced its own halcyon days when ‘hearts and flowers’ truly typified the triumphs and tribulations of men and women in love.

Moment by Moment arrives on Blu-ray in a long-overdue home video release via Kino Lorber’s distribution deal with Universal Home Video. The results here are impressive, perhaps owing to the picture’s lack of importance and virtual burial for decades since its theatrical release. The elements used in his 1080p remastering effort sport impressive color fidelity, exceptionally nuanced contrast, gorgeous flesh tones and a light smattering of film grain looking very indigenous to its source. We get the occasional age-related artifact. But these are virtually nonexistent. Even scenes shot at night illustrate some finely resolved detail – quite unanticipated. The 2.0 DTS audio is adequate, showing off Lee Holdridge’s cheaply erotic, sax-infused score, and thoroughly syrupy title track, sung by Yvonne Elliman, heard over the end credits. Extras include an audio commentary by historians, Lee Gambin and Sergio Mims with Maya Montanez Smukler, obviously recorded from home due to COVID restrictions, but at different decibel levels so as to make chronic volume adjustment ‘a thing’ in order to listen to these exceptionally ‘tinny’ tracks. Honestly, I don’t see the point to this. I mean, you can isolate people in professional recording booths, all wearing masks, all social distancing, to record proper commentaries under optimal conditions and still prevent the spread of the virus. So, this is just dumb! Bottom line: Moment by Moment is a pretty dull and diluted romance. The Blu-ray looks solid. The rest is just fluff. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

1

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

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