Rating of
1.5/4
Swing low
Bribaba - wrote on 05/04/11
Yes, tonite, let's all make love in London. A much better idea than making a documentary on the subject, especially one like this. Peter Whitehead’s 1967 film is at least narration-free, though I soon found myself pining for something, anything other than the contributions of Mick Jagger (“in the future we’ll only be working four hours a day”), or Michael Caine, giving a hint of the old reactionary he was soon to become (“short skirts cause a loss of moral fibre”)
On the plus side there’s Julie Christie keeping it delightfully unreal and David Hockney (“what I find really sexy is footballers kicking their legs up in the air”). In between times there’s a shaky home movie going on, purporting to be about the club scene. Strange, then, that the camera, which never lies, spends an inordinate amount of time being pointed at girl’s legs. Pink Floyd’s Interstellar Overdrive provides the aural backdrop while Eric Burdon and the Animals are shown recording When I was Young. But it’s another song of theirs that this film may bring to mind: We Gotta Get Out OuttaThis Place.
