Blue Sunshine

 

(1977) Written and directed by Jeff Lieberman; Starring: Zalman King, Deborah Winters, Mark Goddard, Robert Walden, Wendy Flemming and Ray Young; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ***½

“Millions of my generation had experimented with LSD during the late 60s into the 70s. Deep down they all must harbor a fear there could be some validity to the detrimental long-term effects of the mysterious drug. Why not tap into that universal fear the way Hollywood tapped into our generation’s fear of the atomic bomb back in the fifties? What if there was a particular strain of LSD that altered our chromosomes the way they claimed radiation did?” – Jeff Lieberman (from Day of the Living Me)

“There’s a bald maniac in there, and he’s gone batshit!” –  Man fleeing discotheque (Unknown)

Once in a great while, a movie comes along that baffles all expectations. Blue Sunshine is such a film. Writer/director Jeff Lieberman’s follow-up to Squirm (1976) drew upon the paranoia and misinformation surrounding the anti-drug efforts of the ‘70s. The so-called “War on Drugs” and its accompanying propaganda campaign preached about the supposed deleterious effects from various illegal substances, even with one use. But what if the anti-drug campaigns were right all along?  

From the movie’s opening party scene, you know you’re in for a wild ride. Brilliant but directionless drifter Jerry Zipkin (Zalman King) watches his friend Frannie Scott (Played by Billy Crystal’s older brother, Richard) goof off,* doing his best Sinatra imitation. But in an instant, things go horribly wrong, resulting in the brutal killing of a woman at the party, as well as Frannie’s death. Zipkin, now implicated in the murders, is on the run, and has no alternative but to embark on a personal crusade to prove his innocence. Clues point to a politician running for congress, Ed Flemming (Mark Goddard, of Lost in Space fame), who sold drugs in college. Now Flemming is doing his best to bury that sordid part of his past. Meanwhile, the trail leads to a police detective who murdered his entire family before killing himself, as well as Flemming’s ex-wife Wendy (Ann Cooper) who suddenly loses her hair and becomes violent. All the suspects share a common denominator: they once attended Stanford University (Ed Flemming’s alma mater) in the late 1960s, with all appearing to have taken a particular strain of LSD nicknamed “Blue Sunshine.” 10 years after using the drug, they’re now experiencing a host of symptoms: hair loss, headaches, and extreme irritability, which increases over time. The symptoms eventually escalate, causing them to lapse into a psychotic episode. Can Zipkin prove his innocence and save more potential victims before it’s too late? 

* Fun Fact #1: Look for a pre-Blade Runner Brion James as an inebriated partygoer, wildly flapping his arms and cawing like a bird of prey.

I’m not sure how Lieberman directed Zalman King, but his performance is turned up to 11 in every scene. Virtually every line from our protagonist is delivered at a volume and intensity that seems out of proportion to the scenes at hand. Jerry Zipkin is a true believer who never caved in to the temptation to sell out, unlike so many of his peers. Because he refuses to play life by the rules, he’s seen by others as an outsider for his erratic behavior. It doesn’t help Zipkin’s case when on two occasions, attempting to intervene results in death. Only his girlfriend Alicia (Deborah Winters) believes in his innocence, but assisting him could spell trouble with LAPD Detective Clay (Charles Siebert), who’s hot on Zipkin’s tail.

What distinguishes Blue Sunshine from the rest are all the bizarre little moments that make the film so memorable. Witness Ed Flemming’s estranged wife, Wendy (Ann Cooper), who succumbs to the delayed effects of Blue Sunshine. A simple day babysitting turns into terror when the obnoxious kids in her care set her over the edge. Minus the butcher knife, it’s a scene most parents (or anyone who’s worked with kids) could relate to. And did I mention there’s a puppet show? Deciding to have creepy Barbra Streisand and Frank Sinatra puppets opening for a political campaign speech might not seem the most orthodox or advisable approach to capturing the hearts and minds of potential voters, but you do you, Mr. Flemming. If anything, it’s a welcome distraction from his empty campaign promises. In one of his commercials, he stresses how he wants to “Make America good again” (Hmm… Sound familiar?). The icing on this surreal cake is when Flemming’s hulking aide, Wayne Mulligan (Ray Young) flips his lid, embarking on a disco rampage.* As played by Young, Mulligan looks as if he’s auditioning to play Frankenstein’s monster. 

* Fun Fact #2: The tunes in the discotheque are provided by a band called “The Humane Society for the Preservation of Good Music” (I’ll leave that for you to decide if they’ve succeeded or failed in their mission).

Blue Sunshine throws us a few red herrings along the way, keeping the audience guessing (Did they take the drug or not?). Not everything is how it seems, as depicted in a tense moment when Zipkin’s surgeon friend, David Blume (Robert Walden), starts to lose his cool in the operating room.* Is it the delayed effects of Blue Sunshine, or is it just stress from overwork? 

* Fun Fact #3: Lieberman’s brother was a pediatric medicine intern at the time. While he wasn’t trained as a surgeon, Lieberman consulted him about the various instruments. Unfortunately, his brother only recalled two operating instruments, a “Kelly” and a “Long Instrument,” so Blume keeps asking for the same ones repeatedly.

Lieberman’s oddball film defies easy categorization. Is it horror, a psychological thriller, or a drama? It’s all of these, and more. Blue Sunshine can also be viewed as a vicious satire, skewering the Baby Boomer generation, when many hippies sold out to become part of the establishment. Viewed from a contemporary lens, it’s easily applicable to subsequent generations of Gen X and Millennials, who followed in the footsteps of their parents. Many of us start off with lofty ideals, which gradually become diluted and compromised over the years, sacrificing our scruples for creature comforts.

Much like the fictional eponymous drug, Blue Sunshine is the gift that keeps on giving after repeated viewings. One scene after another is filled with something odd. It’s refreshing to see a film where you can’t predict where it’s going from one moment to the next. Anything can happen (and often does), in a film that’s obviously not made by a committee or focus groups. Filmmaker Jeff Lieberman succeeds by successfully feeding into our collective paranoia – It’s genuinely scary to consider the possibility that some of us might be walking around right now, unaware of the dangers that lurk within ourselves. To say there’s nothing else like the delightfully idiosyncratic Blue Sunshine is a gross understatement. Come for Zalman King’s histrionics, stay for the puppet show. 

 

Sources for this article: Day of the Living Me, by Jeff Lieberman; “Lieberman Using Film Techniques Which Heighten On-Screen Impact,” by John Cocchi, Boxoffice (May 22, 1978)