With the possible exception of costuming, this film is horrible. Another example of director Russell laughing at the audiences who pay to watch his over-blown crap.
The acting is mostly overacting, no doubt encouraged by Russell, who presents a film of caricatures. Swarzenegger playing Hamlet would be nearly as good as Nureyev playing Valentino. He has a physical presence, but he cannot act. Michelle Phillips and the others fall prey to Russell's misguided exhortations to act as if they are on stage, aiming for the back balcony. Huntz Hall is mere stunt casting.
The script is abominable. The story bears no resemblance to the actual life of Valentino or reality, in general. The viewer should remember that Russell was a fan of Warhol and Fellini. It would be fair to call this one of his Campbell Soup Can films. This film is craftsmanship (adulterated by what must be a sick view of the world) masquerading as art.
The acting is mostly overacting, no doubt encouraged by Russell, who presents a film of caricatures. Swarzenegger playing Hamlet would be nearly as good as Nureyev playing Valentino. He has a physical presence, but he cannot act. Michelle Phillips and the others fall prey to Russell's misguided exhortations to act as if they are on stage, aiming for the back balcony. Huntz Hall is mere stunt casting.
The script is abominable. The story bears no resemblance to the actual life of Valentino or reality, in general. The viewer should remember that Russell was a fan of Warhol and Fellini. It would be fair to call this one of his Campbell Soup Can films. This film is craftsmanship (adulterated by what must be a sick view of the world) masquerading as art.