If you've never seen a film that is a 100% head scratching oddity, then see this 1960s mind bender. Rosalind Russell checks into a Caribbean hotel with her son and husband. The son is a feral man child and the husband is dead (literally...he's stuffed and resides in a coffin). Russell proceeds to woo crackpot commodore Hugh Griffith while her son (Robert Morse) gets life lessons from party girl Barbara Harris. It's a comedy, but really not particularly funny. Russell wears one outrageous outfit after another while Morse skirts very close to making an absolute fool out of himself. Only Harris is genuinely funny; she's so off kilter, it's hard to tell if she's daffy or really worldly. It's directed with a lot of gusto by Richard Quine and the whole thing is narrated by Jonathan Winters (as "dad"). His part was reportedly edited in after completion of the film. Neal Hefti's music is appropriately '60s and the cinematography is credited to none other than Geoffrey Unsworth! Based on the play by Arthur Kopit.
