OK, my ten day Highland motoring tour through Scotland (I did not find a man-frog in the middle of a hedge maze, though) is over, and as a result of it, I am dead broke. $100 to fill up a Ford Focus??? Anyway, luckily, while I was away eating haggis and drinking a positively staggering amount of single malt scotch whisky, the rest of the crew kept the home fires stoked:

The irrationality of the film is in some ways before its time. I think this is part of its ultimate failure; the writers clearly wanted to create a sense of un-reality at a time when there weren’t many films whose lead they might follow. Bleeding plants, the voodoo ragdoll which serves no apparent purpose, the “death wishes” based on real magic which don’t end up being lethal, the trouble with the radio, etc…. These have been criticized elsewhere as loose ends of a script that never had a final draft. I’ll throw out the possibility that, in fact, they were more deliberate attempts to undermine Knight’s stolid positivism because–and I’m not trying to be cute here–there was no unity to their disunity.