So Bad It's Bad
There are things I like about this movie: I like that it's from 1970, so the hairstyles, clothes and loactions are all great (I assume the exteriors when he's cycling are Munich - they certainly don't look like Fulham, then or now, though I could be wrong, happy to be pput straight. Also, I'm always suspicious when I see a conveniently situated red pillar box!)
However, I simply think life's too short for guessing games in movies. I don't need anything spelled out to me, I don't need my culture handed to me on a plate, but I hate that wilful obscurantism whereby people pat themselves on the back for guessing what the director "meant" by this fluorish or that colour ("You just gave me chills!" says a contributor on another thread).
If a movie is going to go down that route then the very least I expect is decent acting. Jane Asher aside, the acting here is unwatchable. I appreciate that English is not the first language of most of the cast, but some of the foley work here is so disembodied it reminds me of that effect Jacques Tati used to get in his movies - but I don't think that's what they were going for.
The "plot" meanders in that Sixties/Seventies way ("You want a STORY man? Get out!") as though to depict anything remotely joined-up would be thoroughly bourgeoise and STRAIGHT. The nudity must have seemed so daring then, and I have no doubt the papers fulminated, but it looks laughably gratuitous now. The movie reaches a low point with that interminable "hot dog" scene.
To complete my poo sandwich, I will say that the use of Can's Mother Sky was brilliant.
No Guru, No Method, No Teacher.