Tuesday, October 15, 2024

TOOMORROW (1970) * ½

Aliens are in desperate need of some groovy tunes.  They come to the conclusion that the only sounds they enjoy emanates from Earth, so they decide to abduct a goofy, kitschy college band called Toomorrow.  Naturally, the band’s kidnapping causes problems with their personal lives, and they have to go back to Earth to smooth things over with their respective dates.  Afterwards, they must hurry back to the concert in order to save the galaxy with their music. 

Man, if you thought Xanadu was fucking weird you should check out this flick.  Produced by the unlikely duo of Harry (the James Bond pictures) Saltzman and Don (Rock Concert) Kirschner and directed by Val (The Creeping Unknown) Guest, Toomorrow is a real WTF head scratcher.  Olivia Newton-John made it an entire decade earlier, and it shares some of that Grade Z classic’s DNA.  Instead of goddesses roller-skating to disco music, we have aliens flipping their lids for hippie dippy music. 

Because of the upbeat but terrible songs, most of Toomorrow feels like a live-action version of a sixth-rate Scooby-Doo rip-off, minus the talking dog of course.  While the music is bad, I will say that some of ONJ’s harmonies are decent.  Most viewers will be disappointed that she’s just a member of the quartet and shares singing duties with three thoroughly unmemorable dudes.  However, she’s far and away the best thing about the movie (except for maybe some of the cheesy alien shit), which is saying something, since her talents largely go untapped. 

Some of the alien effects and make-up are OK.  For the most part though, it’s a fucking mess.  It’s not quite good enough to work as a legitimate movie, nor is it cheesy enough to pass as camp.  Still, I did like the part where the female alien went to see a bunch of skin flicks to learn about human sexuality.  Other than that, you’ll probably forget Toomorrow by toomorrow… err… tomorrow. 

AKA:  Together.

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