Perverse and tangential...
I can see the director introducing this film with something like... "Welcome, to Masturbation Theatre." Clarence Williams III was the only character half-conscious, so I found him to be giving his best William Shatner treatment to the script. Good grief, this was nothing but an artsy-fartsy weekend project that slipped out from the Hollywood crackage. The New Orleans backdrop doesn't add enough meat to dem righteous crazy bones. Throw this film back in the pot and let it simmer for another twenty odd years and see if the conscious collective can glue the imagery together so this director can receive his belated Oscar. One thumb down, and one weenie way down!
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