U.N. Owen
Even when I was young, I never was fixated on 'fame,' or popularity based solely on superficial things. As Marilyn Monroe said in her last interview (slightly paraphrased), 'fame is fickle, I've had it, and it's passed me by.'She knew the studios used her - to fill a type, a slot; sexy, dumb blonde.' But Marilyn wanted to show she was so much more.I grew up in the entertainment business, and it never excited me. Some of those I knew, or met, who were 'famous,' were mean, vain, callow. Being a kid, I saw this popularity game starting to happen as I approached teen-hood.I always thought looks are transient, and one second, you have them, but, who knows - a car crash, or you get old - for a woman, that's 40 - and then...Some of the most beautiful women I always thought, had it in them - they'd lived, and they'd seen it, and have Had grown wiser. The smart ones played the game back. The others, well... Who knows.But, of the 'famous,' it's only a very select few. I was always captivated by other qualities, and even when I was little, Ms. Oliver made such an impression. This was before the Internet, so, there was really know if others felt the same,and, honestly, I didn't care, as she was acting for me. I'm sure every other person who saw her felt the same.Her iconic role in Star Trek, is - for me a lot more than surface. She portrayed a woman, who even though she looked beautiful to those who saw her, it was illusory, and I felt it - her insecurity, her need for approval, because, as Vina, she was validated by her appearance.There was such a gentleness to her, and her voice, it quavered, but, not with the 'sex- kitten' quality. Her voice gently prodded, and said; 'please, don't hurt me, because if you don't believe this, I can't survive.'It broke my heart, then, and even thinking now, I'm tearing up.That was an actor. Someone who I felt lived and breathed, because I know she felt it, without question. Just because the screen would go dark, I felt whoever Ms. Oliver was, she - and Vina, her character - lived on.I worked in the entertainment business, and fame still never impressed me. As time went on, the media's need for more faces became ever-more rapacious, first, with cable, then the Internet, and on, and on.Instead of looking to 'groom' someone, it was as if these (usually young) actors were young chicks, and they looked at them solely on the basis of if they'd develop into a good chicken. Nothing more.I'd see/hear more and more young people say they wanted to be 'famous,' but, if I ever asked; famous? For what? The question was irrelevant.They see fame as the sole goal of approval.It saddens me.I was happy to find out - only as 'recently' as the mid 80's more things about Ms. Oliver which made me love her even more; I heard how she was not just a 'plane-flyer,' but, it was a deep passion. I also found out she'd passed away.I came across this documentary a few months ago purely by accident, and it couldn't have been more serendipitous.To see that she was so valued by those she'd worked with, and knew in her personal life, that they made this stunning, loving documentary about a person, a real flesh and blood one.I had my best friend (who passed away a few years ago) tell me about working with her, and even though my friend could drip venom, as she talked about Susan, it was with admiration. My friend had come up through Hollywood by being discovered at a young age by a famous director, and from then on her life was unreality. Working with Ms. Oliver showed my friend that you don't need anyone but yourself to love, because, as the saying forgoes, if you can't love yourself, you can't love anyone. I'm so happy this film was made. For anyone who wants to learn about self-confidence, and believing in yourself, and not have yourself validated, as so many unfortunately do, by fawning fake sycophants, watch this. I wish every young girl, young woman, and young boys, and whoever else felt or feels this plastic need to be 'beautiful,' , or has a 'stage mother,' who's (usually morbidly obese), who tries to live trough them, and turn them into some 'beauty queen.'See this, because true beauty can only come from within oneself.I won't say anything more about this woman's life, than how touched I was - still am - how this woman I never had the privilege of meeting touched me. I know I'm not alone, as the simple fact this wonderful story was told, and all the people who helped - either by participating, or helping fund it, this is a very rare incidence of someone truly special.Wherever you are now, Susan, thank you, you've had such an impact on so many., I know you're gentle twilight dream dust, which pass into many of us who see you, in so many wonderful ways. I always knew - even when I was a very little boy, you were a very special person, and I'm glad I at least still get to share seeing your on my screen.
catattack77-74-618204
This is a feature-length documentary about actress Susan Oliver. The title comes from a rather famous – I daresay "Iconic" – role of hers from the first Star Trek pilot made in 1963. She played "Veena," who turned into the Green Orion Slave girl, and fodder for so many fan boys' fantasies. However, Susan Oliver was much more than one role in a sci-fi TV show. If you watched episodic television in the fifties, sixties, seventies and even the eighties, you will have seen her, as she guest-starred in literally hundreds of shows, from Wagon Train to Route 66 to The Twilight Zone to Peyton Place. And she was such a good actress, she would appear in multiple roles on any one show; for instance, she appeared four times on Wagon Train, each a different role.She was also an aviatrix, what they used to call a female pilot. She piloted her own twin- engine plane solo across the Atlantic. She came in first in the Powder Puff Derby, a race featuring only female pilots. In Hollywood she was in the first wave of women directors, sponsored by the AFI. Yet even after directing an episode of M.A.S.H. and Trapper John, she wasn't able to break that glass ceiling to get more directing jobs.The documentary is a fascinating account of a beautiful woman who could act and was smart, who had many other skills, but who couldn't break down societal barriers to achieve her goals.
Eric D. Martin
A good documentary with the most clips of Susan Oliver's career that will ever be assembled. As such it is also a valuable overview of the early days of television. However, several problems come up that call into question the resources and abilities of the filmmakers. The chief one is a lack of interviews or reflections from significant television and film industry peers. Ms. Oliver worked with scores of top-level actors, many of whom are still with us, yet none deigned to be in this documentary, despite almost certainly being asked. Especially curious is the absence of Jerry Lewis, with whom she made several movies and was clearly a friend who offered to pay her hospital bills at the end. We are left with heavy screen time given to lesser-known performers, some of whom didn't even know she was a pilot, undermining their own credentials as intimates. The one notable exception was David Hedison, although even he is hardly a household name. The film also heavily relies on lesser-known Hollywood writers, production people, and friends, many of whom are posed with their books (and sometimes artwork), offering plenty of praise but little real insight into Ms. Oliver's life and work. While famous people don't necessarily a good documentary make, their complete absence from this film undermines both the claims of Susan Oliver's importance to the industry and the professional credentials of the filmmakers...to say nothing of seriously hurting the film's chances of garnering mainstream interest. The documentary also makes no attempt to put any of Ms. Oliver's work or life into perspective, by use of a narrator or any analytical framework. The film is an endless series of TV and movie clips and talking head testimonials...there is no over-arching voice to bring it all together and offer up any kind of summation on who Susan Oliver was and why she might be important and worth remembering. Details about her personal life, especially her puzzling romantic liaisons and the obviously complicated relationship with her famous astrologer mother, are given a quick once-over. We are only given hints as to whom she may have had relationships with, and while privacy is always sacrosanct, a documentary that doesn't at least attempt to delineate the home life of its subject becomes more a curriculum vitae than a true story of a person. One can't help but feel the filmmakers kept things light in an effort to do honor to Ms. Oliver. That they did, but the documentary finally leaves one with the same feeling one has about Susan Oliver's career: it was oddly incomplete, and less than it should have been.
