Movie Reviews By Bil Antoniou
An avant-garde painter has tea with an old friend who asks him to speak to her depressed grandson; she’s hoping that his experience as a psychoanalyst will possibly help draw the boy out and process the problems that he won’t tell her about. The painter meets the young man and finds that he is unhappy about his love affair with another boy, but little else is revealed in their long sessions that, we are told, are influenced by the main character’s expertise with Jungian theories. The two men spend a lot of time together, their sessions are lengthy and wordy, before daring to socialize when the patient takes his doctor to a nightclub (where the old hippie doctor also brings the house plant that he believes is speaking to him). A few moments of visual dazzle are overwhelmed by a film that rarely makes sense (are they having sex in a highway overpass?) and when it does, rarely gets anywhere (there’s no sense of process or development to the therapy scenes). That it’s barely over 75 minutes in length is the one mercy to this otherwise punishing experience.