Beyond the Valley of the Dolls
It's probably a film best watched very late at night, when one is tired and isn't absolutely sure what the hell was in that drink you just took. This happened to be my mindset, so I wound up sitting through a whole film which I'd only intended to sneek a peek at a few minutes of on TV. So very, very Sixties, so of course it was made in the seventies. Rockers go to LA, get stoned, screw up their lives, a film with a tacky moral at the end as a deliberately half-witted excuse for all the debauchery somewhere in the whole rest of the thing.
Ultimately, I think it's a trifle overlong, and I found it amusing that as, er, exploratory as the film was - touching on homosexuality, drugs, multiple partners - miscegenation remained the last strictly adhered to taboo, as the black characters only acted erotically with each other.
There are some very funny moments, though, and the writing isn't half-bad for a futurely famous film critic Roger Ebert. A zonked out Shakespeare-quoting lunatic record producer steals just about every other scene he's in, and I can't fathom why. Even still he only seems more mildly peculiar than the whole rest of the cast, who seem to be wildly careening over a cliff of melodramatic excess and cornball come-ons. Or something.
Really, though, watch it for the hair. There is so very much of it.
and also Abraham and Isaac (though that's not a perfect reference, as Isaac was never actually in danger).
It's not like Abraham knew
that, after all. And knowing - or rather the lack of knowing - is sort of important here.