Medusa

George Hamilton shows why he became more popular for his tan than acting ability with "Medusa," a terribly insipid attempt at a crime thriller with would-be supernatural undertones. The plot...ummmmm...doesn't really make any sense (and not in the good David Lynch way). Okay, imagine Andrezej Zulawski's "Possession," with made-for-TV production values, none of the surreal sh1t, and a bunch of cop-thriller baloney. Set against a Greek backdrop, George (our hero?) plays a character more obnoxious and muggy than what you'd find in a typical "Saturday Night Live" sketch; anyway, he runs afoul of scenery-chewing gangster Cameron Mitchell (whose presence in any movie is like the official stamp of bad taste) who is whacking a bunch of guys(?); George spends the rest of the film running around Greece, wooing (and killing) random females, and finally fleeing to 'Atlantis' on a boat with his unusually devoted sister. Some existential hokum about the body dying, but the soul living forever is tossed in like an afterthought. Blandly directed by Gordon Hessler, "Medusa" is a slow-moving bore, its only amusing moments belonging to Mitchell ("The Toolbox Murders"), who gives an epic bath-house speech that is brilliant in its own head-scratching incoherence.