Poseidon Quickies: Have a "Seat!"

Surely among the least-known of La Liz's cinematic repertoire, The Driver's Seat (1974) was an adaptation of a 1970 Muriel Spark novella. It concerned a rather nondescript (!) woman flying to Rome in order to find a man -- not for the reason you might immediately think! How anyone figured that Elizabeth Taylor would be in any way right for such a person is anyone's guess, but it's all right because a) she decides on this trip to dress and make herself up as garishly as humanly possible and b) she's quite erratic and unhinged and, on that score, Taylor could well deliver! Told in a non-linear fashion, we find Taylor drifting in and out of various locations and situations as she proceeds on her date with destiny. Long available only in a hideously blurry, badly-transferred print, it has since seen a high-def release which helps to make it more watchable than before. Along for the ride are folks like Ian Bannen, Mona Washbourne and even Andy Warhol. If you're inclined, you can wend your way through it here.

Today we're only concerned with one third leg of her journey. A young man (Guido Mannari) is being interrogated over his association with Taylor.

He is compelled to recount how Taylor came to be in his automobile.

She is in need of transportation to her hotel, but he seems pretty sure that she'd like far more than that!

He attempts to put on the charm, but she's resistant. There is clearly some disconnect between what she's after and what he thinks she's after...!

Stopping the car at - literally! - the end of the road, he begins a more pointed approach.

Now bordering on livid, she wants him to knock it off and take her to the Hilton.

Instead he just intends to "take her!"

Attention uniform fetishists! If you've got a thing for mechanics in one-piece work suits (and nothing under it) this is you moment.

He goes digging...

...and eventually finds what he's looking for. Though nothing is shown, it's quite an arresting sequence.

Stunned Taylor is shocked and appalled.

And he tries hard to get her to see the light...! Now, kittens, I am in no way endorsing date rape or suggesting that no doesn't mean no. I'm all on board with that. I'm merely focusing on the performer in this scene. And... as we later discover, he wasn't coming as far out of left field as we are first given to believe. This was more like a misunderstanding to a certain degree.

But I digress. Mannari is not going to get his way in any case.

Taylor manages to fight him off (something she reportedly did not do in real life where the actor was concerned!)

She exits the vehicle in a panic and begins running down the road.

A confounded Mannari jumps out of the driver's seat and proceeds to chase after her, without bother to zip up.

I saw this movie for the first time probably 20+ years ago (in the aforementioned blurry, cropped, monstrous version) and this section was the only one that really stuck in my memory. It was neat to see it again in a clearer representation.

Apparently Taylor, in high heels, was able to outrun the virile stud, so he ultimately retreats to the car in order to try to catch up with her!

If you're still feeling some kind of way about his lascivious behavior, you can take comfort in knowing that he is roughed-up by the Italian police for his actions...!

Mannari had gotten his start in films with a tiny part in 1967's Arabella, followed by 1969's He and She by the same director, which starred Laurence Harvey and Sylva Koscina. He played one of two mechanics who molest Koscina (or did they? The movie is deliberately abstract.) Thus, he seemed destined to play men with a strong carnal aspect to them.

He wasn't seen on screen again until 1971 when he popped up in five Italian films, including The Decameron. He had a blink-and-you'll-miss-it role as one of Pier Paolo Passolini's rain-soaked associates given some old cloaks to cover themselves by a nearly toothless farmer. In a movie where many gents got naked, he kept his clothes on.

More and better parts followed including playing one of the title criminals in Brothers Blue (1973) or in Number One (1973) as seen here.

By the time of Red Coat (1975), he was costarring in Italian movies, this time opposite Fabio Testi.

Surely his most (in)famous movie would be 1979's Caligula, with Malcolm McDowell as the deranged and violent title figure. He had a featured role throughout and a memorably hideous exit.

As it turned out Mannari had an early exit from this earth. Having done only a smattering of movies post-Caligula, he found religion as a Jehovah's witness. With a strong dedication to that faith, he no longer any interest in seductive acting gigs. Then in August of 1988, he was felled by a fatal heart attack at only age 43.

The End!