Mille pezzi di un delirio

Poor Theresa Russell is once again subjected to her husband Nicholas Roeg's own unique brand of cinematic shock therapy, playing a frustrated southern belle trapped in a loveless marriage to model train fanatic Christopher Lloyd (hence the oblique title). When a disturbed young stranger wanders into town claiming to be her long-lost son, she begins to wonder if her mind has snapped, but there's much less to the film than what meets the eye. Roeg likes to mask the meaning of his scenarios behind a smokescreen of self-indulgent style, inside of which is a more-or-less conventional story struggling to get out. His collaboration here with writer Dennis Potter would seem to be a match made in heaven, but stripped of its visual and narrative razzle-dazzle devices the film emerges as little more than a perverse and uneasy mix of satire and psychodrama, with several flamboyant performances and a great mental breakdown montage, showing trains colliding and buildings collapsing, all inside Theresa Russell's pretty, mixed-up head.