It's voyage around my fodder time again in another of Blake Edwards' cautionary comedies. All the staples clock in, with Ritter going through the motions as alcoholic, blocked Pulitzer Prizewinner and compulsive womaniser Zach, who we see dumped in scene three by pissed-off wife Alex (Reed), and watch crawl his pathetic way to forgiveness by the end credits. Be impressed by the ritzy Pacific Palisades locations; enjoy the kitschy decor and designer threads of the rich and famous; be instructed, between tears of laughter, by the serious undertow about self-delusion and the possibility of discovery. The film's difficulty is the total obnoxiousness of the central character. Set pieces include a funny nighttime encounter involving fluorescent penises, and Zach being attacked by a strangely out-of-time Brit-punk musician. After much maudlin mooning over the piano in Barney's Bar, Zach has a midnight revelation on the beach: 'God's a gag writer!' Must be.