So last night Bravo! was airing Tommy, the famous 1975 rock opera featuring The Who and a parade of other 70s superstars. I thought I'd seen this film at some point in my life, but apparently I had never actually bothered to watch it. Okay, I really couldn't stand to watch all of it, but what I saw was some seriously freaky shit. I thought I had already grown accustomed to drug-induced surrealism, so I was kind of impressed and mortified at the same time.
Ann-Margret vs. the TV that spews champagne and baked beans?? CLASSIC!!! I loved her outfits AND her space-age white bedroom. I also love her inability to act like a drunk because she's too drunk.
Jack Nicholson as a singing psychiatrist? Delightfully cringeworthy! I almost take back that shark-jumper comment. Almost.
So thanks Ken Russell, you crazy MF, for helping me zone-out on an otherwise dry Monday night. Thanks Pete Townsend, for writing a bunch of crap music with a couple good tunes thrown in for your pals Elton and Tina. And THANK YOU Ann-Margret, for ...well, humping a pillow full of beans in a mesh jumpsuit. Now I understand why Elvis could never keep it in his pants.