While they're on vacation in the Southwest, Rae finds out her man Michael spent their house money on a classic car, so she dumps him, hitching a ride to Vegas for a flight home. A kid ... See full summary »
Can the audience glean rich meaning from a confused, meandering film, the meaning of which the makers couldn't explain at gunpoint? This is the question this film seems to me to ask, but trying this time to be fair, I will observe that you usually take away from any film experience more or less what you are able to bring to it. (--Read that last sentence "Beach Blanket Bingo is deep if your frame of reference is broad enough.") Maybe those who like this film --and it does have its partisans-- are deeper than I am and that's all there is to it. Then again, perhaps it is just that they are less willing than the rest of us to release their 8 bucks without some compensatory sense of satisfaction. ("This film was so bad, I had to watch it twice to get my money's worth.") This film's vibe is definitely of the I-am-deep-and-arty school, and some of the audience no doubt gives points to the artists for that alone, for good intentions, regardless the effect or outcome of their labors. I think, clearly, it is hard to talk about this confused mess without lapsing into confusion. To say it sucks out loud doesn't seem to do it justice. To point out its problems one by one is too much like tapestry-making. Avoid it at all risks. If you like any actor in this film, seek their appearances elsewhere. If you like the writer/director, then by all mean, seek help.
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