Almost like an inverted Saturday Night Fever, Foxes follows four LA teenage girls who seduce, humiliate, adore and befriend various men, but whose primary loyalties are always to each other. The first half, unfortunately, is poor: the producers (Casablanca Record) have lumbered it with undigested lumps from the company rock catalogue; there is some pretty variable comedy, dreary travelogue footage, and a very ugly use of filters and soft focus. But gradually a much more interesting film takes over. The tone becomes darker and more moralistic, concentrating on the relationship between Foster (looking uncannily old) and her impossible, dope-happy friend (a fine performance from ex-Runaway Cherie Currie), both contemplating with real hurt the certainty of separation. The ending takes this feeling to its logical conclusion, and works a hell of a lot better as post-'60s tragedy than The Rose.