Robert Downey, crawling ever higher out of the underground, has gathered together a gaudy collection of fruits and nuts, dressed to the teeth, for a New York smark-aleck metaphysical absurdist Western. The awkward timing of the jokes and the performances (to call it "offbeat" would be a kindness) makes it appear that no one is quite sure when the party is supposed to begin. (1972) — Duncan Shepherd
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