A sex-crazed ex-singer is forced to undergo psychiatric counseling; it seems he's addicted to stealing pornographic films. Flashbacks soon inform us that he fell into disgrace after performing a risque song-and-dance number on the Ed Sullivan Show. Then we get an extremely lengthy (it's in slow motion) dream sequence, in which our hero frolics with a gang of jungle women dressed in what looks like prehistoric S&M gear. And then... well, more goofy stuff happens. That's just the beginning of this rambling, spaced-out ode to... I don't know--drugs? Actually, the movie does begin making sense--I think--as its (not to be revealed here) "message" gradually emerges. But it all grows tedious after the first 25 minutes or so. The acting runs the full range from barely acceptable to awful, and, for all the weirdness, the movie is never really funny. For fans of hippie-era strangeness only.
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