Screenwriters Paul Mazursky and Larry Tucker have a deft idea here--but it only takes an hour on the clock to use up the essence of their idea, leaving nothing but dead space on the screen for thirty more minutes. Milquetoast Jewish lawyer in Los Angeles, about to marry his domineering secretary (an idea which is approved by his demonstrative mother), is reunited with his estranged brother, a flower-child circa 1968. Through the brother's sometime-girlfriend, a comely lass who knows a great recipe for hash brownies, the lawyer realizes he's living an existence without love or freedom. It's wonderful watching bespectacled, buttoned-up Peter Sellers learn how to be liberated...yet, once the lawyer grows his hair out and dons love beads, the picture has nowhere in particular to take us. The satire is unsubtle in its prodding of targets, while writers Mazursky and Tucker ultimately bite off more than they can chew (while leaning precariously on pretentiousness). Still, there are some mild, breezy laughs early on, and the production is bright. ** from ****