This film is a splooging pile of great sexual excess, a mess of acting and costume design, a pornographic and pointless epic, and it's a fantastic guilty pleasure. This film ranges from so over-the-top to dull that it is a form of art. Malcolm McDowell uses what was left of his Clockwork Orange persona and raises it to 11, in a film that most likely shouldn't be watched duebto its poor taste, but not the John Water's poor taste, but the violently gross kind.
This film is a splooging pile of great sexual excess, a mess of acting and costume design, a pornographic and pointless epic, and it's a fantastic guilty pleasure. This film ranges from so over-the-top to dull that it is a form of art. Malcolm McDowell uses what was left of his Clockwork Orange persona and raises it to 11, in a film that most likely shouldn't be watched duebto its poor taste, but not the John Water's poor taste, but the violently gross kind.
