For the vast majority of poor mortals, Kelly preston, who died on July 12 of last year at the age of 57 yearsShe was nothing more than John Travolta’s wife (the two met on the set of the curious comedy ‘The Experts’) and a high lady of what they call Scientology. All the more, the great actress that, with his talent and plenty of tables, he tried to build otherwise quite anodyne artifacts such as’ Between love and play ‘,’ Two very mature kangaroos’ or The guru: an uncontrollable temptation ‘.
He also shone in the cast of more peculiar works, some of them well-deserved cult, such as ‘The cat’, ‘Jack Frost’, ‘Citizen Ruth’ or ‘Addicts to love’, although in general never got too lucky with their choices within the rigid scaffolding of the seventh art.
The unforgettable Kelly Preston
Personally, I remember Kelly Preston, at least my particular Kelly Preston, unique and non-transferable, for his blazing roles in the entertainment films of the early eighties, as a fortunate part of the happy few, proto-men and little women, who go from childhood to puberty with the sensual push of their on-screen appearances, or by renting their titles *slightly spicy in the sadly defunct video stores.
Kelly used to embody a archetype as negative as it is irresistible: the shamelessly sexual, seeking and superficial blonde who tempted the protagonist with a bait of enjoyable and adolescent sex, without alibis or conditions. This is how we saw her in the passable ‘Only You’, Betty Thomas’ debut, in the underrated ‘Christine’ by Carpenter / King (phrase to remember: “You have nothing to lose with that girl except virginity“), in the entertaining ‘A tiger in the pillow’, in the redeemable ‘Run: chased by all’ to the greater glory of a still geek Patrick Dempsey, in the immaculate and adventurous ‘SOS blue team’, and above all, in the valuable ‘Secret Admirer’ (David Greenwalt, 1985) and the nostalgic ‘Mischief, youthful antics’ (also 1985) of the forgotten Mel Damski, possibly his most deserving titles of this period.
Then came ‘The experts’ and a new impetus for your career with such commercial titles like ‘The Twins Hit Twice’ or ‘Jerry Maguire’, but I can’t resist mentioning other films, for particular fetishism, like the brutal ’52: Live or Die ‘by John Frankenheimer or her role as reporter Kelly Hougue in’ Open until dawn ‘and’ You murderer we clean the blood ‘. Works that, despite everything, failed to erase the image of the youthful Kelly Preston, the prototype North American cheerleader that he rolled them on a good basis but never stayed with the boy who, an idiot of him, always finally preferred the boring, quiet and modest girlfriend.
An actress of unique magnetism that she would even dare to appear on the covers of the shelves (specifically that of ‘Mischief’, also known, very appropriately, as ‘Without shame’) by dropping out of a car without panties and in a crazy way, discovered in full swing … oh, those covers embedded like ninja stars in the memory of the eternal teenager. To understand us, Preston was the equivalent eighties and yanqui from Ester Exposito of Elite’.
‘The trip of their lives’, an inconsequential story to the rhythm of Blondie
The years have passed too fast, we are no longer horny teenagers or curious girls of age to experiment and Kelly Preston premiered her last film appearance just ago, ‘The trip of their lives‘. It is not a good or bad film or quite the opposite, since it supposes, within its choral condition, a vehicle to show off and a bittersweet gift for die-hard fans. In a tone of dramedy inconsequential, Jules williamson tells the story of three mature women who organize an interrail in honor of their recently deceased friend, accompanied by her teenage daughter.
Nothing like a movie that talks about overcoming loss to elevate Preston to the skies with its corresponding sparkling altars. The tone is as placid as it is soft: it takes up the notes of female sisterhood among various characters, almost opposed, already treated in films themselves quite poor as’ Clan Ya-Ya ‘or’ Only them: the boys aside ‘, in addition to the difficult but finally possible and desirable intergenerational understanding of’ Freda and Camilla ‘or’ Tomates fried greens. ‘
The humor is decidedly Light and specifically aimed at a target that share the age of its protagonists: If you are one of the people who laugh at things like friends drawing a Nazi mustache on an unpleasant shop assistant, or how they go out of control going blind from bubbly cocktails without losing makeup or (entirely) composure, you will surely have a good time hang out with ‘The trip of their lives’.
For its part, the dramatic side is superficial and its background insignificant. Preston manages to stand out above his other three protagonists, who never fail to do a proper job, even delivered, and the story opens with a star appearance from Judi Dench and surprises in its journey with the anecdotal intervention of a Franco Nero somewhat distracted.
In the same way that the French and much more pocha ‘I will go where you go’ (2019) accompanied the journey of its protagonists, this time sisters, with songs by Céline Dion, ‘The trip of their lives’ poignantly adorns the adventures of their antiheroines with a substantial part of the repertoire of Blondie. Even if you are not especially a fan of Debbie Harry’s group (who writes this, yes he is and he is very proud), there is no color, and it is impossible not to be infected by certain good feeling listening between scenes, as a narrative glue, songs like ‘Hear of glass’ or ‘Call me’.
In short, Williamson’s film supposes a nice brooch for the career of an actress as iconic as wasted, but as a cinematographic experience it is as pleasant as it is unsatisfactory, as bland and somewhat cowardly.