British sex thimble Mary Millington’s lonely overdose death in 1979 at the age of 33 was a tragedy, not least because it was an unnecessarily permanent solution to what, in hindsight, were very temporary problems. ‘True Blue Confessions’ is a ‘documentary’ tribute to Mary, made for reasons that Mary would have understood implicitly: the need to make money out of her, dead or alive. If you can’t screw the living, screw the legend.
|A bit in your face.|
|A young Mary enters a beauty contest. She didn't win.|
|Most of the budget went on some newspapers and a pair of scissors.|
Little more than a poorly organised rummage sale of Mary’s best bits and left over clips that hadn’t been fully exploited yet, insult is added to injury by some sanctimonious talking heads and some appallingly tasteless faked sequences. There’s much sentimentalising about Mary’s dogs, for instance, shown patiently waiting for the Mistress to return, but these are stunt dogs – Mary’s dogs were immediately put down, despite being perfectly healthy and in total disregard of her dying wishes for them to be taken care of.
|They give excellent performances.|
Along with a load of stills and a few film clips we get to see her deserted house in 'the stockbroker belt', and the tarpaulin covered pool where 'the beautiful people once played'. We get to see extracts from her suicide notes (she left four). We also get to see a fake Mary in a fake coffin in a fake chapel of rest, and her scene of death is lovingly created with lots of little aspirins rearranged artfully on her bed beside a cheap, discarded nightdress. Lordy, its tawdry.
|Off the scale.|
|Incriminating bits removed.|
Depressingly, this trash was put together by her friends. Her ex-lover and semi-svengali David Sullivan appears, obviously slightly shell shocked, and speaks angrily of how she was hounded to suicide. His exact words are interesting –
"It is absolutely tragic that someone so young, so beautiful, that had so much going for her, should be driven to such a horrible death by the pressure of the tax and the police. It's more like Russia than England in 1980'.
At the same time, however, it's important to note that Sullivan is also behind this ghoulish and unpleasant film. It’s difficult to know whether he genuinely wanted to pay tribute to Mary, or just wanted to get paid (possibly both) but, whatever his intentions, the finished product is a desperate affair: cheap, tacky, tasteless, it tells us nothing, it shows us nothing and is dirty in the worst possible way. It’s no kind of eulogy, and no kind of fun and, more than anything, fun is what Mary Millington always seemed to be about.
|Remember her this way. RIP, Mary.|