I’m always at a loss when I try to come up with a critical response to such dismissible films as Tomboy. Sure, this film about a pretty female mechanic’s struggle for acceptance (it sounds so lofty here!) is offensive. Freed seizes every opportunity to throw in a gratuitous beast or crotch shot and revels in really unfunny scatological jokes. Worse, the film’s ostensible support for a woman’s right to self-expression is undercut by the notion that it doesn’t matter what a woman does, anyway, so long as she has a nice ass. Still, there doesn’t seem to be much point in getting hot and bothered about a movie that’s so poorly-crafted it’s going to have a hard time garnering any kind of audience. Tomboy has nothing going for it: The script is banal; acting almost uniformly awful (Betsy Russell as the Tomboy, is just unbearable); and it’s about a half an hour too long (i.e. if one stipulates that this film is worth watching at all). Definitely to be avoided.
This article appears in April 19 • 1985 (Cover).