Film Review: Cleopatra Jones (1973)

The blaxploitation cycle of the early 1970s was, in many ways, Hollywood’s somewhat awkward attempt to appear “cool” to a burgeoning, anti-establishment Boomer audience. By appropriating themes of Black empowerment and anti-racism, these films offered a veneer of “sticking it to the Man” that was commercially palatable. A select few within the genre pushed further, layering in feminist ideals, and a prime example of this is the 1973 film Cleopatra Jones, a classic that, while flawed, remains a fascinating cultural artefact.

The plot centres on the eponymous special agent, played with imposing physicality by former model Tamara Dobson. The film opens with her in Turkey overseeing the destruction of a vast poppy field, an act which incites the wrath of Los Angeles crime lord “Mommy” (Shelley Winters). To lure Cleopatra back to the United States, Mommy uses her political connections to instigate a police raid on the “B&S” house, a drug rehabilitation centre run by community activist and Cleopatra’s boyfriend, Reuben Masters (Bernie Casey). A corrupt officer plants heroin, providing the pretext for the raid. Upon her return to LA, Cleopatra becomes the target of repeated assassination attempts by Mommy’s goons, including the weaselly Tony. While receiving limited help from a sympathetic police captain, Cleopatra finds greater aid from the local community, who provide the intelligence and manpower necessary to dismantle Mommy’s organisation, just as the unhinged kingpin decides to eliminate her own lieutenant, the flamboyant Doodlebug (Antonio Fargas).

The film’s conception is almost as interesting as its narrative. Producer Max Julien originally envisioned the role for his girlfriend, actress Vonetta McGee, as a Black female answer to James Bond. Budgetary constraints, however, pared the Bondian aspirations down to a surreal Turkish prologue, a “cool” Corvette, and a protagonist whose idea of “secret” agent work involves drawing maximum attention via an endless, flamboyant wardrobe. The role ultimately went to Tamara Dobson, chosen largely for her extraordinary height and model’s presence, a decision that would significantly shape the film’s final texture.

Directed by the steady, workmanlike hand of Jack Starrett, Cleopatra Jones functions more effectively as a straightforward blaxploitation vehicle than a sophisticated spy thriller. The plot is a simple scaffold for the genre’s requisite exploitation elements: gunfights, fistfights, and notably, a well-executed car chase through the Los Angeles River. Like many of its peers, it carries socio-political commentary, primarily through an explicit anti-drug message and the portrayal of corrupt, racist white policemen—embodied by Officer Purdy (Bill McKinney)—as the true enemy of the Black community. The film is leavened with humour, much supplied by Antonio Fargas’s scene-stealing turn as Doodlebug, an outrageous small-time pusher who affects aristocratic airs complete with an English butler (played by uncredited Henry Mattingly).

A conspicuous absence from the standard blaxploitation formula is the near-total lack of sexual content or nudity. The closest the film comes is a cinema marquee advertising Deep Throat, a nod that firmly plants it in a specific moment of American cultural history. This omission is often attributed to Dobson herself, who refused nude scenes; subsequent lore suggested this refusal hampered her career. A more credible explanation for her limited filmography, however, lies in her palpable lack of acting experience. Her performance, while matching her striking looks, often appears stiff and one-note, especially when contrasted with the more seasoned and energetic talents in supporting roles.

Those supporting performances are where the film truly shines. Beyond the reliable Bernie Casey and the delightful Antonio Fargas, the film is utterly stolen by Shelley Winters. The Oscar-winning actress plunges with gusto into the almost parodically demented role of Mommy, a lesbian crime lord whose theatrical rage provides the film’s most memorable moments. Her final confrontation with Cleopatra in a junkyard stands as a bizarre highlight in a long and varied career.

Where many blaxploitation classics are buoyed by iconic funk scores, Cleopatra Jones lacks a particularly memorable musical signature. This, combined with a sometimes disjointed narrative structure that introduces and forgets characters, undermines the film’s pacing. Despite these criticisms and a mixed reception from contemporary critics, the film performed solidly at the box office. Its success was sufficient to warrant a 1975 sequel, Cleopatra Jones and the Casino of Gold, which attempted to blend blaxploitation with the contemporary martial arts craze but failed to replicate the original’s commercial traction.

Cleopatra Jones is a product of its time, embodying both the aspirational empowerment and the commercial limitations of the blaxploitation wave. Its flaws are evident: a lead performance of limited range, a forgettable score, and a plot that prioritises action spectacle over coherence. Yet, it succeeds as unpretentious, energetic entertainment. Anchored by Shelley Winters’ unhinged villainy and enlivened by its commitment to a stylish, community-focused heroine, the film retains a campy, potent charm. It can be enjoyed not merely as a cultural relic, but as a briskly paced action comedy that delivers its particular kicks with a confident, if occasionally clumsy, swagger.

RATING: 6/10 (++)

Blog in Croatian https://draxblog.com
Blog in English https://draxreview.wordpress.com/
InLeo blog https://inleo.io/@drax.leo

InLeo: https://inleo.io/signup?referral=drax.leo
Leodex: https://leodex.io/?ref=drax
Hiveonboard: https://hiveonboard.com?ref=drax
Rising Star game: https://www.risingstargame.com?referrer=drax
1Inch: https://1inch.exchange/#/r/0x83823d8CCB74F828148258BB4457642124b1328e

BTC donations: 1EWxiMiP6iiG9rger3NuUSd6HByaxQWafG
ETH donations: 0xB305F144323b99e6f8b1d66f5D7DE78B498C32A7
BCH donations: qpvxw0jax79lhmvlgcldkzpqanf03r9cjv8y6gtmk9