Adorable adolescent pinball princess Brooke Shields flees her slovenly, cacophonous parents, only to be exploited by an irksome, mendacious, moronic jackass (reprehensible Ken Marshall) who croons hick hokum when he isn't whining. On the road, he profits from her expert hustling to finance revenge against his former employer, an enormously rotund pinball juggernaut (one conspicuously padded Charles Durning). It's preposterous: Durning is presented as an ostensible villain for his girth and wholly warranted irascibility, while exasperating Marshall not only leverages a commercial advantage from his teenage charge under false pretenses, but pointlessly manipulates her to play as he can't against a nemesis ultimately revealed as nothing of the sort. For those willing to stomach its senseless plot, godforsaken music and Marshall's revolting presence, no small amount of good pinball footage and personable performances by Shields and Durning nearly redeem this late-'70s time capsule.
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About the reviewer
Robert Buchanan (rbuchanan)
I'm a bibliophile, ailurophile, inveterate aggregator, dedicated middlebrow and anastrophizing syntax addict. My personality type is that of superlative INTJ.
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