Oh the days when independent films were made and sometimes barely ever seen. That still happens to this day, but at least now there's DVD (matter of fact that was the only way I could get to see There's Always Vanilla- it's next to impossible to find on bootleg). In 1970/1971, George A. Romero and the Latent Image, his production company that previously established itself big-time with Night of the Living Dead, decided to go a more romantic/dramatic route, as there seemed to be a possible small market for it.

Unfortunately, the scriptwriter, Rudy Ricci, was haphazard and scatter-shot with his contributions, and the script was never finished until the end of filming (it came to the filmmakers scene by scene), so even though there are characters to get interested in as a 'character study', Chris Bradley and Lynn Harris (Ray Lane and Judith Streiner respectively), sometimes the dialog and situations become contrived. The main thrust of the story comes from Lynn's relationship to Chris, as Chris is a sort of man-child, who comes into her life suddenly one day after abandoning an older women he may or may not have fathered a kid with, and somehow through his constant sarcasm and lackadaisical charm that gets her into bed. But Chris, as we soon finds out, uses the wit and charms and occasional obnoxious means of talk to mask insecurities. He doesn't work, and when the opportunity comes he backs out. It all leads up to his father relaying a 'meaning': there's always vanilla.

It's not totally incomprehensible to see why Romero, on an interview featured on the DVD, is completely assured with his feelings that it was a low-point in his career where he tried to gain more experience as a filmmaker and fell flat on his face. There is that side to the picture that is unequivocally dated, and the lack of a better budget or a means to a better structure (particularly an ending that feels complete or make sense) is frustrating. But a filmmaker sometimes has to feel that way about certain films, as the experience making it becomes a personal struggle whereas other times it could become a personal triumph (he still considers Day of the Dead a favorite, mostly for the experience making it).

Ironically though it's his own skills as a director and editor and director of photography that rises the material to a level of watchability. It's no Cassavetes- as another reviewer noted- but he treats the material with a control that wavers between late 60s early 70s exploitation film-making (of the period, of course, with some scenes with psychedelia bits and music and pot), and a more grounded tone for the actors to follow. And sometimes Romero's given by Ricci a compelling scene to shoot, like when Lynn has to deal with a certain 'problem' she may need to take care of, but decides at the last moment to run away from it.

Or, of course, when Romero cuts the scenes together, sometimes around Chris's confessions to the audience about his mistakes and own feelings at certain times, which pop in at a good rhythm. Or the way he doesn't putz around with montage- often a high-quality trademark in Romero films- even when dealing with schmaltzy scenes like the quasi courtship of Chris and Lynn in a park or on a boat (I also really liked the one liners each character traded off on one another in the park- marking the shallowness of the period). And the actors do bring qualities of believability to scenes that somehow work almost in spite of the flaws in the material; Laine is actually charming and affable, carrying over similar qualities from the next collaboration with Romero in Season of the Witch, and Streiner is even better here than she was in 'Living Dead', as a woman who has to contend with being the mature one in a relationship where a falsity to it rings true almost every day.

By the time one sees those balloons fly out of the cardboard box to the cheesy singing (and usually there is cheesy music here), it's clear that this isn't Romero's finest dip into a change of pace. But even in a miscalculation there are intriguing, humorous notes touched on, and that no matter what Romero can somehow be pragmatic with his material, and chooses experimental angles in an otherwise typical low-budget effort.

There's Always Vanilla (1971) was a film that I saw a few years ago at a local video store. I was intrigued by the title and the clerk told me it was George A. Romero that was rarely seen. I felt at first that I've give it a try and scan it. I was surprised how good the movie was. Ray Laine is great as the lead in this movie. Judith Streiner (Ridley) plays the model/actress that he falls for with cameos by Russ Streiner, Bill Hinzmen and Richard France. I liked how Ray Laine's character addresses the camera giving the audience a insight into his life and times. Romero's camera work, direction and editing are real good in this flick. I enjoyed the social commentary and the ending. I thought it would be a snooze fest but once again Romero proved me wrong.

The title refers to a line in the movie that Laine's father tells him when he sees him for advice. The actor who plays his father is also great. Try and get a hold of it!!

Highly recommended.

A young man returns to his home city of Pittsburgh and moves in with an older woman whom he begins to rely on for emotional and financial support.

Following the international success of George Romero's "Night of the Living Dead", it was only a matter of time before Romero and his production company (Latent Image) made a follow-up. Though, as Romero would later concede, "Vanilla" is the worst film of his career and not surprisingly was never released on VHS and thus rarely seen before the DVD era.

Latent Image, which involved most of the people from "night", was largely doing commercial work, as well as some segments of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood". The profits from "Night" should have made Romero and friends millionaires and kicked off huge Hollywood careers, but as we know today, the distributor botched the copyright and the millions in profits never mad it back to the filmmakers. Thus, Latent Image continued on as a low-budget production company rather than the sought-after company it should have been.

"Vanilla" was a miserable experience for all involved. Rudy Ricci never finished the script by the time shooting began, dragging what should have been four weeks to over a year of filming. Ultimately, the "finished" product did not even amount to feature-length and the Ray Laine monologues had to be tagged on after the fact. (Ricci played an important role in "Night"; he was college roommates with Romero in 1957 and introduced Romero to Russo, thus uniting the two primary figures behind "Night".) Although Romero more or less disowned this film, he is largely responsible for it. Not only the director, he worked as his own cinematographer and editor. Writing came from Rudy Ricci (as mentioned) expanding on a short film he penned, with production officially handled by "Night" veterans John Russo and Russ Streiner. Tackling the score was Steve Gorn.

Bill Hinzman, George Kosana and Judith Ridley (wife of Russ Streiner) are in the cast, as they had been in "Night". Hinzman would handle much work for Romero both behind and in front of the camera as the years went on. Others, such as assistant cameraman Paul McCollough went with Russo following the Romero-Russo split. McCollough would be editor and composer for much of Russo's work between 1976 and 1996.

Originally distributed (poorly) by Cambist Films, it was later picked up by Anchor Bay on DVD, tacked on as a bonus feature to "Season the Witch". In 2017, we finally get a proper Blu-ray release through Arrow Video. A cleaner picture obviously does not magically turn a bad film into a good one, but thanks to the audio commentary and special features (including a 30-minute making-of with Russo and Streiner), we get an in-depth look at the world of Romero and Latent Image. Like it or not, this film is the bridge between "Night of the Living Dead" and Romero's later work, thus making it a crucial watch for any student of his films.