6/10
Never Trust a Hippy!
21 October 2017
Dippy hippy David is travelling freely through somewhere or other on his motorbike, feeling the wind in his hair and superiority on his ego. He lives free, is not faithful to any woman because 'that would make him unfaithful to all the other women', you know, all that crap. I suppose I'll give him credit for stopping to help a sinister old man who's got a flat tyre, but let's face it: the guy's a sponger. That's what this film is – a parable on what happens when you're a want your money for nothing and your chicks for free.

After David somehow manages to kill this old guy in a car crash, he hides out in a shed for a while, until he discovers that the house next to the shed is inhabited by three ladies. There's Samantha (dirty-looking, too skinny) Bibiana (grumpy, too skinny) and Liv (Naïve, another dippy hippy) who invite him in for breakfast – gigantic cakes! Wait – those cakes stand for symbolism! That means that the other bit where they give him an apple to eat...

It might be a good time to describe the interior of this house too – the living room is filled with hundreds of cushions, some fake trees, and three gigantic pictures of the chicks on the back wall. Their rooms also have a huge picture and a velvet covered bed each and their kitchen is a bizarre angular nightmare made up fifty-thousand shelves and dookits. This is useful information I'm giving you here, as usual.

There's something about the way these girls can teleport about the place and perform satanic ceremonies that Raymond just doesn't like, but he's gets to bang all three of them so what does he care? They all keep going on about some castle where some strange guy lives and how Raymond got to meet this guy who the girls have a secret meeting with, and so on and so forth until the ending that completely shifts the tone of the film.

What makes it so bizarrely watchable is that these three girls seem to have limitless supply of long flowing gowns of many colours, mental make up and crazy wigs, and throughout the film the wigs get bigger and more insane. There's also a really huge arty streak throughout this one, from the twitchy editing to the bizarre sequences where Ida Galli has some sort of weird dragon painted on one boob, to the hellish soundtrack of Ray Lovelock singing some song about how this and that is 'gonna get ya'.
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