Zachariah

There's a certain type of late 60s film that tries to communicate some kind of heavy psychedelic truth (El Topo, The Trip, 2001, World on a Wire).

And then there's the kind of late 60s film that's about irreverent psychedelic whimsy, nonsensically waving its freak flag high (Skidoo!, Head, Putney Swope, Brewster McCloud).

"Zachariah" aims to be both, and unfortunately fails at both. The whimsical parts seem to be based on the idea that combining rock music and the Old West is a hysterically funny idea. It isn't. The heavy parts reach for hippie cosmic-consciousness wisdom but come off very cliche.

A compelling narrative might make up for these two failures, but the acting and plot doesn't engage, either. (There is an implied homoerotic romance, but that's not developed enough to become interesting.) So the viewer is left holding the bag -- a horse feed-bag of dumb jokes, fake tripiness, and bad writing.

Oh I forgot -- the single redeeming element is Elvin Jones. Elvin freakin Jones, the greatest jazz drummer ever! And he's great! He should have been in more movies.