The year is 2293, and somebody’s misplaced the Viagra in John Boorman’s nutcase anti-Utopian fable. Sean Connery, wearing a snug thong, is the outlier barbarian who crashes the on-going party of the impotent ruling class to reintroduce the Joy of Erections. But things may not be quite what they seem since our flaccid lords & nubile ladies, looking like a lost touring cast of HAIR, may also be pawns, controlled by a man we’re not supposed to pay any attention to. You know, the guy standing behind the figurative curtain. Can mankind be saved? Can manly corpuscles be regenerated? Is it worth the trouble? Boorman, a natural filmmaker if there ever was one, may be too talented for his own good. The whole project feels like a purposeful sabotage for hitting it big on DELIVERANCE/’72. But within an absurdly small budget, he pulls off some cool visual treats, much helped by master lenser Geoffrey Unsworth. The 'mod' look helps to offset the deep-dish alienation & intellectual navel-gazing. At its best in a three-minute education/indoctrination for Connery that uses the same simple analogue projection techniques Maurice Binder employed on many a James Bond title sequence. But Boorman, deep in his philosophical bunker, was unlikely to see the connection.
DOUBLE-BILL: Robert Altman’s equally odd BREWSTER MCCLOUD/’70 is another ‘hippy’ era fable on the dangers of sex & flying.
SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Hey! The whole film is a Screwy Thought of the Day!