Any movie that is defended with the idea that it can only be enjoyed by viewing after taking drugs... well, c'mon, you know it's got to be pretty bad. And this is bad, no mistake about it. Sure, it's very colorful, and for the drug-inclined it's an eye-popping visual "overdose" of nostalgic psychedelia...
But at the the heart of this foolish fruity farrago is an offensive story of a geeky middle-aged man obsessing pervertedly over a pretty young woman living next door -- that obsession fueled by non-stop Peeping Tom activity. This sick invasion of privacy is treated as an excitable, joyous, comical diversion. It leads the geek professor to wild flights of fancy and lunatic dreams, giving us plenty of bizarre sequences filmed in full 60's psychedelic-meets-Richard Lester glory. But, wacky comedy-wise, it's weak tea in comparison to Lester's 'The Knack' or 'Help!' And considering the obvious Lester-Beatles influence (including the actor playing Birkin's boyfriend having a distinct Liverpudlian accent) it's no surprise that George Harrison provides the score.
Too bad that the score is awful. Whole scenes go by with virtually no dialogue, thus a catchy pop score from Harrison would be welcome, and add to the nostalgic value of the film beyond the psychedelia. Unfortunately we get the Shankar-sauce sitar-period Harrison. Only those finding a nostalgic trip from Indian music that sounds like the wailing of out-of-tune violins (or worse, the sound of a cat trapped inside bagpipes) will be pleased. Otherwise, it's an ear-offending slog.
And otherwise, filmically, you get a frantic but professional performance from Jack Macgowran, a lot of eye-catching shots of pretty cult-figure Jane Birkin, and a few comic bits that work.
But at the the heart of this foolish fruity farrago is an offensive story of a geeky middle-aged man obsessing pervertedly over a pretty young woman living next door -- that obsession fueled by non-stop Peeping Tom activity. This sick invasion of privacy is treated as an excitable, joyous, comical diversion. It leads the geek professor to wild flights of fancy and lunatic dreams, giving us plenty of bizarre sequences filmed in full 60's psychedelic-meets-Richard Lester glory. But, wacky comedy-wise, it's weak tea in comparison to Lester's 'The Knack' or 'Help!' And considering the obvious Lester-Beatles influence (including the actor playing Birkin's boyfriend having a distinct Liverpudlian accent) it's no surprise that George Harrison provides the score.
Too bad that the score is awful. Whole scenes go by with virtually no dialogue, thus a catchy pop score from Harrison would be welcome, and add to the nostalgic value of the film beyond the psychedelia. Unfortunately we get the Shankar-sauce sitar-period Harrison. Only those finding a nostalgic trip from Indian music that sounds like the wailing of out-of-tune violins (or worse, the sound of a cat trapped inside bagpipes) will be pleased. Otherwise, it's an ear-offending slog.
And otherwise, filmically, you get a frantic but professional performance from Jack Macgowran, a lot of eye-catching shots of pretty cult-figure Jane Birkin, and a few comic bits that work.