Ken Russell makes a triumphant return to the silver screen with the usual raincoat-clad soft porn and neon shenanigans from that brief post-Altered States period when Hollywood thought there might be some vague mileage in giving the old Omnibus alumnus carte blanche to do whatever raunchy cobblers he fancied. The result – the sort of film where apologists have to feign admiration for how “brave” the likes of Kathleen Turner and Anthony Perkins were for taking on their roles, which is true enough, as the embarrassment of being even tangentially associated with this crap taints even the saintly likes of Annie ‘Ghostbusters’ Potts and Woody off of Footloose, whose impersonation of a spunking penis with the aid of milk and basketballs has to be missed to be forgotten. Available in many alternate cut versions.
