something like a proto-dirty dancing, this aching and bittersweet tale of sex, class, and rock 'n roll in a beachside tourist town stars oliver reed as an aloof working-class fuckboy—a "seaside don juan" as he puts it—who finally catches feelings and finds out that it sucks, actually.

he's quite good in the role, finally allowed to be a person instead of a werewolf or sociopath or a psychopath or a 17th-century scoundrel. he's also so beautiful i want to scratch my own eyes out. director michael winner and cinematographer nicolas roeg seem almost uninterested in the cast of gorgeous women littering the shots, so intent are they on capturing reed's eyes and mouth and chest (and ass, in one extra wide shot). winner cast reed 5 more times; 20 years after this, roeg tapped reed for his somewhat naughty island adventure, castaway.

wikipedia tells me that ken russell saw the system and cast reed in the debussy film—and in between the two films reed was jumped in a pub and had to get 63 stitches, resulting in the facial scars that he thought would end his career. ken russell knew better, of course.

see this review on letterboxd.