On the anniversary of her father's death, an Indian princess (Madhur Jaffrey) celebrates his memory in her London apartment by having tea and showing a selection of home movies to her guest... See full summary »
Britain's top pop artiste, Tom Pickle, travels to Bombay, India, circa 1960s to learn to play the sitar (musical instrument) from renowned maestro Ustad Zafar Khan. Tom is taken to Zafar's ... See full summary »
It's the mid-nineteenth century. Adult siblings Felix Young and Eugenia Munster were born and raised in Europe and have a somewhat bohemian lifestyle reflective of their travels throughout ... See full summary »
Eleanor lives with the artist Stash. Just like his artist friends, he is completely unknown but is waiting for the big break. Stash is mean to her and finally she leaves him. Ironically, ... See full summary »
Adam Coleman Howard,
Lucia Lane, an English writer by way of the US, arrives in Bombay to watch the filming of one of her novels. She's nearing middle age, she's had several husbands, she's lonely and ... See full summary »
An aging silent movie comic star tries for a comeback by staging a wild party that turns into a sexual free-for-all. The comic ends up killing his mistress and her latest boyfriend. Written by
[referring to Queenie]
Did you put her in your pictures, Mr. Grimm?
Nah. But I took care of her, Nadine. Real good care.
[He reaches out and touches Nadine's hair]
Grace says I should be nice to you. Says maybe you'll put me in your pictures.
You sure do... remind me of Queenie...
Listen... Grace says if you want... you can kiss me and stuff like that.
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Something tells me that the story of how this movie even got made is more interesting than what ends up on the screen. Surely, when matching low-budget exploitation producer Samuel Z. Arkoff with the future-classic producing/directing team Merchant/Ivory, something odd must have occurred. Nothing, and I mean nothing about this 1975 film, based on the infamous Fatty Arbuckle scandal, works. The film, sadly, exists to new audiences as a cautionary signpost marking Zarkoff's failed attempt to move toward legitimate mainstream film-making. He should have stuck to his bread-and-butter tripe (such as "The Beast With a Million Eyes").
Here we have tubby James Coco (with over-the-title billing!) throwing a party to lure members of silent-era Hollywood moguls to distribute his self-financed Opus. Complete with songs by the (terribly melodramatic) Raquel Welch, the film sinks deeper and deeper in to awkward, self-indulgent pathos. Poorly acted, directed and designed (with cheaply dressed sets and awful original "period" songs in the background), this film is one to be missed at all costs. Perhaps one day, the true secret to this film's odd conception will be revealed, and it will make some sense. Until then, perhaps a potential viewer would be better off reading a book.
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