Curse Of The Headless Horseman, 1972. 2/10

This movie does almost everything wrong. The only aspect that isn’t annoying is inadvertent; the dying hippie/psychedelic era drenches us with its rainbow and sunshine display. There’s plenty of baggy clothes, long hair, ‘recreational’ drug usage, garish sherbert colors, period slang, folk music, even a psuedo Cheech and Chong act.


Like others critics have said, this might’ve been better as a straight party movie or lightweight porn. The wild west backdrop does make a cool motif for what is essentially a new-age crime drama.


At least the caretaker does some acting. For most of the movie, no one else has anything to do, and, in case we miss the lack of plot, the genius narrator makes sure to explain what we’re supposed to notice. The result is a scintillating experience watching people hang out.


The headless guy is actually not bad. If he’d shown up sooner, things would’ve been more interesting. Still, the last part is watchable; I thought we were done when the wedding took place. At last there’s some action, and a half-decent plot twist (which isn’t stretching things much, considering the meaningless void we’ve been tossed into).
Given the hidden gold revelation, the culprit’s motive doesn’t make much sense. Finding gold makes you homicidal? Be cool, man, there should be enough bread to extend the ’70s for a long time.


If you want to relive the early ’70s, or just see what it looked like back then, this is an authentic tour. Just make sure you have something else to do, because you will get bored. 2/10.

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