Uninteresting shapes and colour combinations lumber across the screen to the accompaniment of Bach. 'What da hell is dis?' demands a rude New York voice. The tedious animated abstractions of Hans Richter, Oscar Fischinger and their ilk defy parody, and Pintoff/Heath simply reproduce the style. On the soundtrack Mel Brooks' robust philistine assesses the visuals ('Doit and filt') and suggests alternative work for the artist ('make a shoe or somepn'). A potshot that needed taking, ideally 30 years sooner.
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