Ah, yet another slice of ’70s self-indulgence. Paul Mazursky, fresh from Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice success, follows it up with a film about a director (Donald Sutherland) who’s just had a great success and doesn’t know what to follow it up with. Fellini is, inevitably, invoked (and even turns up at one point, to do sod all). LSD is, equally inevitably, taken. Beaches are sat on. Clowns amble past. You know the score with this sort of film before it starts.
