I am in the process of transcribing dialogue for this film so it can be inflicted on foreign countries, so I know it too well. How unfortunate that my poor brain cells must process this drivel. And over two hours of it, no less. Callie, a knocked-up hick who sells her offspring for $2,000, runs sobbing off to a Mormonesque boarding house where she meets a good-natured hooker with a heart of gold. (The landlady spits off a list of God-fearing rules that are immediately violated in their entirety by her round-heeled tenant.) Within five minutes or so, Callie the illiterate, barefoot hillbilly has become a court stenographer, and marries an oil magnate, who helps her get back her son. "Cause that's what happens in real life, right? Yeah. She then spends the next decade not aging a whit and smothering the hell out of her son, (who was returned to her without so much as a whisper of complaint from the adoptive parents)to the detriment of her marriage to Mr. Got Rocks. (The hooker lady, Jeanie, also conveniently ends up with a billionaire as well, Boss Hogg's third cousin). Lindsay Wagner tries to be properly emotional in certain scenes, but listen.... if you have anything else to do other than watch this movie, clip your toenails, gaze at your navel, dig your own grave, I guarantee your two and a half hours will be better spent in those ways than by watching a film whose plot line is reminiscent of the wandering, consequence-free fantasy stories little girls make up when playing Barbie.
Review of Callie & Son
