Lord knows I love America (hell, I was born here). We have a pretty good standard of living – I wouldn’t trade it. I even enjoy fireworks, although more and more they seem to represent some form of neo-con imperialism, rather than the sacrifice the first of our finest made to free us from the yoke of imperialism. But what’s the point? Am I just trying to boost comments for my reviews? Probably, and I’m also saying that instead of reviews for Uncle Sam and Born On The Fourth Of July, (like you’d expect) the only fireworks you’ll get here are those from the smokin’ hot bod of the late-not-so-great Dorothy Stratten, those from the smokin’ hot bod of a young, tastefully-enhanced Mariel Hemingway, and an evil shotgun. Salut!

So let’s look at Dorothy Stratten, (nyuk nyuk) Playboy’s playmate of the year for 1980. Stratten, like many other naïve nubiles, thought that baring and winning all for Playboy would be the launching pad for a great career in show business. Her husband Paul Snider was banking on it.

While Stratten netted a handful of TV guest-shots and a movie or two, she’s best remembered as playing the title role in cult favorite Galaxina. Even as her star ascended, jealous hubby Snider decided to permanently end both of their careers with a shotgun. A lurid enough end to a life made famous by nudity, it set off a wave of public interest, culminating in Star 80, Bob Fosse’s disturbing film about the events.

It’s good to have a little Hollywood History lesson before tackling the classics, so let’s watch Star 80 first. Plus, when you’re all depressed at the end you can cheer up with Galaxina!

Star 80 tells Stratten’s story in a fractured style that likely mirrors the tenor of her last days. The narrative time-line is divided between Stratten’s pre-fame dealings with Snider, the good times (for Dorothy) when her career was on the rise, and the unpleasant aftermath. With snippets of post-facto interviews, scenes of a bloody Snider and shots of her Playboy days weaving in and out of each other, Director Fosse’s technique masterfully generates tension and uncertainty within the already foregone conclusion of the story.

Hemingway comports herself well in the role of a cipher. Stratten’s gee-whiz naiveté doesn’t exactly lend itself to a compelling screen character, nonetheless, Hemingway brings weight to Stratten’s arc as she gradually grows a spine and tries to break from the smarmy loser Snider truly is.

But the movie belongs to Eric Roberts as Snider. He creates a truly complex character, at once charming, pathetic, vindictive, naïve and dangerous. While ultimately the villain, Snider is presented as remotely sympathetic; a child-like schmoe who’s in way over his depth, but never gives up. Not until he grabs the thirty-ought-six.

Fosse falters a bit the few times he tries to turn Star 80 into a weird dance movie, but otherwise he’s crafted a brisk, disturbing look into another senseless tragedy involving a good looking girl and a jealous guy, anchored by universally good acting and canny editing.

But what was Stratten’s output really like? Space-spoofs were few and far between in 1980, making a relatively stupid movie really stand out. Despite its legendary status, Galaxina is largely not funny, rambling and tedious. Stratten stars as Galaxina, a mysterious, silent, hot-as-hell robot who runs space police cruiser The Infinity, and acts as a sexy French Maid too. The crew rounds out with a dumb-ass cowboy, a CHiPs reject, (acting as a Han Solo/ Billy Drago hybrid) Avery Schreiber as the nominal Captain and the Rock Eater, a pathetic alien prisoner.

Schreiber is the best thing about Galaxina, so you know we’ve got trouble. Anyway, for the first half hour the movie just farts around, with long stylish shots of Galaxina slinking around or sitting in a weird chair. Schreiber does a few goofy slow burns that - while pretty much the only funny things in the movie – shamelessly cop from Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein.

Then for some reason the humans have to go into hyper-sleep, so Galaxina spends 27 years programming herself to talk so she can confess her love to Han Drago when he wakes up. Too bad, because Stratten possesses a voice like a Drag Queen gargling molasses. I mean, really, really weird. Then they go to a solarized planet where everything looks like a Nagle print, to get some stupid jewel that some other stupid alien is chasing. And finally all the bad special effects and borrowings from other movies culminate in something underwhelming and you wonder, is that what all the fuss is about? And did I really think the Rock Eater was that funny when I watched this NUMEROUS TIMES as a young teen?

Give Galaxina credit for clearly not taking itself seriously at all, mostly looking great and trying to score laughs, (albeit at the rate of one every 15 minutes) but this is one film that has not aged well. It seems to have come from a slower, gentler era, at times painfully slow. Reading like 10 minutes of Scary Movie 3 dragged out into feature length, Galaxina suffers from its fatally amateur and sophomoric humor. Long scenes in the Cantina-rip-off Human Restaurant look filmed by Junior College students, and a Vocal strike cue that hits when people say ‘Blue Star’ isn’t funny the first time and gets worse the many, many times it’s repeated.

This is an awfully long time to talk about Galaxina, though, isn’t it? As a cultural artifact it’s of interest, but as a cult curiosity it’s only mildly amusing. On the other hand, Star 80 is a well-crafted, well-acted plunge into the icy waters of real-life dementia. So go ahead and screen these two as you celebrate independence, but remember the cost of freedom is vigilance. The cost of DVD players, these days, is considerably less.