It isn't very good, but at least the highly touted technology is put firmly in the service of the (sometimes painfully sincere) emotions that Francis Ford Coppola wants to communicate, which is more than you can say for Apocalypse Now. Coppola's 1982 candy fable, about the breaking up and making up of a Las Vegas couple on the Fourth of July, looks like a Minnelli musical inexplicably shorn of music; when the characters do dance, the film comes alive and the stylization makes perfect sense. There are hints of an interesting theme—that dull, unimaginative people have a right to love too—but they aren't followed through. Of the cast, only Raul Julia has the dancer's sense—the elegant, abstract body control—to harmonize with the stylization; Nastassia Kinski and Teri Garr get by, but Frederic Forrest, a fine naturalistic performer, lacks it fatally.
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