YKWIM #55: Introducing Forget About It Friday
The first film for discussion: Sticky Fingers (1988)
Hi pals, I’m trying something new this week. I realized recently that I want to write a newsletter every other week that has nothing to do with politics or my personal life but very much has something to do with pop culture. Which brings me to…
Forget About It Friday
A look back on films, both theatrical and made-for-TV, that have slipped from the pop cultural collective consciousness over the last thirty or so years. Most of these will be from the late 70s through the 90s, though not exclusively. Do these movies hold up? Have we forgotten them for good reason? Will the plots get weirder and weirder? Stay tuned!
Sticky Fingers (1988)
When I told a couple people about this movie, every single person was like, “A movie about the Stones album?” and it turns out, nope! I had never heard of this before.
Provided description, typos and all: This comedic fable is about two broke musicians, Lolly and Hattie on the run from the Chinese Mafia because of a bag of drug money left in their apartment. They start to borrow the money to replace their stolen instruments and pay their rent.
Lolly and Hattie have the same hair as Madonna with the music tastes of Mozart. They keep saying if only they could write one hit song, it would all change for them. Not sure when they think the last time classical music has been a one-hit wonder, but I digress.
From the jump, Hattie the Hottie plays the violin and makes go-go eyes at some hunk while Lolly the Sucker is stuck behind the cello and gets the measly $37 they’ve earned from their park performance stolen right out of her hand.
They’re super behind on their rent and their landlord Stella is two seconds away from kicking them out. Stella has a sister, Carol Kane, and she’s the best part of the movie. There’s some excuses about waitressing jobs and a forthcoming royalty check but as someone who has held multiple jobs many times over, I have to wonder why these Baby Boomers don’t get a damn day job already.
The divine Loretta Devine comes by to shoot the shit and sell them a dime bag. She answers their phone as if that’s a normal thing to do at another person’s house and suddenly it’s like, record scratch, Loretta the Divine has gotta leave town but can they watch her heavy, heavy bag, please?
Of course, they open it, panic over the huge stack of cash, try to return it to Loretta, realize she’s not home, and bring the bag back to their place. There’s a bunch of slapstick comedy routines out of nowhere. The influence of 80s television writing keeps popping up, so unnatural in a movie without a laugh track.
Stella almost rents the apartment out from under them to Bess Armstrong (yes, the mom from My So-Called Life!) while Carol Kane cleans the bathroom like only she can. Hattie the Hottie grabs cash out of the bag, justifying that Loretta the Divine would want them to use the money on rent. They can always pay her back, right? Right!
Lolly the Sucker has a bad boyfriend, Sam the Slimeball (played by Christopher the Guest), and naturally, he has a novel out. The book launch is a dance party in a warehouse with a bunch of side characters who have funny one liners and are never seen again. Probably my second favorite part after Carol Kane.
And of course, there’s the terrible men. Is Sam the Slimeball’s ex-girlfriend there? Of course! “It seems she got a job in the office,” he says as if it’s just something that happens. Hattie the Hottie gets hit on by her soon-to-be-ex-husband. Does he have a cute, little pixie-haired pregnant girlfriend? Of course! Do they finally throw these terrible men in the trash where they belong? Of course not!
The gals get back from the book party and their apartment is such a trash heap that it takes them a while to realize they’ve been robbed. The bag of money wasn’t discovered, but their beloved violin and cello are gone.
The brief scene of them buying their new instruments is the only sensual moment in this whole movie. Hattie and Lolly press their faces against the glass of this music shop, practically drooling, while a soft string orchestral number with a heartbeat plays in the background and then cuts to them running their hands and faces (?!?) over the wood. Neither kiss their terrible men yet practically make out with new string instruments.
The bow-tied man behind the counter tells them it’s going to be $91k, and you can tell he can’t wait to see the faces fall on these Desperately Seeking Susan impersonators. Instead, they smile and hand over cash in two thousand dollar bundles. Not shady at all. They run off to their audition at the Brooklyn Academy of Music while a Chinese man keeps a close eye on them from a distance.
More scenes with terrible men: Sam the Slimeball is an asshole and Lolly the Sucker still wants to move in with him anyway. A shady dude chases Hattie through the streets at night, corners her at her front door, and then serves her divorce papers. Carol Kane has a cute flirtation with a parking lot attendant next door and brings him a TV dinner. He doesn’t seem terrible… yet.
Neither gal faces her problems so they go on a shopping spree and get into a big fight over wanting the same coat. The same Chinese man keeps creeping around. More Sam the Slimeball nonsense, more crap about how they’re broke, more depressing music as Hattie the Hottie mails off her divorce papers, so another shopping spree it is.
Outta control! You can tell they’re outta control by the quick camera cuts and upbeat music that sings “Outta control!” over and over. Prices, who cares about prices? Shop, shop, shop! It’s a capitalism bacchanal. More bags, bags on bags, all piled into a stretch limo. “Russian Tea Room, please!” Lolly the Sucker says to the driver.
Their only friend tries to drill some sense into them. They ignore it and give her random ass shit to keep her quiet. The best part of this scene is that Lolly the Sucker has an incredible pair of earrings with a Roman column one ear and a figurine of a Roman solider on a horse in the other ear. She did not offer to give those away.
Loretta the Divine calls and the girls freak the out. They need money!!!!! What should they do?? Get a boring-but-bill-paying day job?! Nah, let’s go to an underground gambling ring! A gambling ring that’s somehow connected with the creepy Chinese guy that’s been following them even though it’s never explained! They win all the money they need and then oh no, it’s gone! Stolen right out from under them! A big blow out fight ensues and we learn their real names are Harriet and Leila.
Sam the Slimeball is back (UGH) and Lolly the Sucker bought him a gd Gucci watch. This next part has to be noted word for word, I can’t summarize this:
Lolly: You missed my tonsil operation.
Sam: That was the last game of the World Series.
Lolly: And every seder my aunt’s ever had.
Sam: Don’t dangle that seder stuff with me. Don’t talk seder to me because it’s kugel, and kugel is poop. I hate kugel!! It’s poop!!!
To see THE 5th Baron Haden-Guest have a fit about poop, who knew this was coming.
It’s pretty much a downhill car crash from here. Loretta the Divine comes back, she’s not happy, but there’s bad guys after her so she’s willing to try and help these dipshit girls. The show at BAM is weird as hell and it’s not even the weirdest part of this movie. Loretta the Divine and the Chinese guy are arrested but the two white girls get away just fine and lose the bag of cash for the billionth time.
Lots of bullshit happens concerning men with guns, but basically, Lolly and Hattie are locked in a closet with Queen Carol Kane. Inexplicably, this closet has a window. In New York fucking City, where people have bedrooms without windows, this closet has one in a very convenient location.
Everything at this point in the movie is extremely confusing. This slapstick comedy turned class drama has now morphed into an action movie. There’s lots of cops and characters who’ve never been introduced before and screaming and gun shots and lights flashing and people climbing up and down fire escapes, and truly, no one knows what is going on… and yet the Queen Carol Kane does her best Marlon Brando “STELLAAAA!!” out the window.
Turns out, Queen Carol Kane’s parking attendant love interest was an undercover cop the whole time (I told you he was terrible). He takes Lolly the Sucker and Hattie the Hottie aside and he lights a cigarette while he grumbles about how they’re off the hook for reasons that aren’t thoroughly explained. White women getting away with crimes while people of color are arrested… woof.
This isn’t the last line in the movie, but it really should have been:
“What did they do?”
”Nothing any red-blooded American wouldn’t do. Shop.”
Highs:
Carol Kane! Carol Kane! Carol Kaaannnne! Queen Carol Kane is the best part, so I’m sad to say there’s not enough of her in this.
The hair, the clothes, the music, all authentically 1988, baby
Loretta the Divine has particularly good eye make-up
Christopher The Guest’s freak out scene on poop
“Sticky Fingers” by Company B. It’s a bop!
The credits at the very end start to run diagonally and then go completely sideways all together, much like the plot of this movie.
This sweet promotional jacket on ebay.
Lows:
An absolute shit show of a script
Sam the Slimeball’s cake at his book launch is a naked woman and someone is like “Don’t tell Ms. Magazine, hehe!” which is also authentically 1988, baby.
Did I mention the men are terrible?
White women not facing consequences, woof
The subtitles on the version I watched mixed up the two Black characters.
The Chinese Mafia subplot, enough said
“Women, always shopping!”
This was written and directed by women
Final Verdict
This would be the sort of movie that would be good for a group watch with friends, perfect for getting tipsy and ripping it to shreds, except this is a pandemic so for now, this will have to do.
Here’s a shot of their kitchen after they covered every inch of it with an ugly violin wallpaper. You can buy everything in the world but you can’t buy taste!
Thank you for reading about an old ass movie that the pop culture zeitgeist has forgotten! Any typos, weird spacing, or grammar mistakes are the result of my fallible fingers. Links to my social and website can be found below. You can buy me a cup of coffee to give me the energy to keep doing this baloney. Any questions or comments, feel free to send them along— andrea.laurion@gmail.com