Can I get a whoop-whoop from the other Floyd fans in the audience?
No? Fuck you.
So, yeah, if you’re a Pink Floyd nut, like myself, you’ve probably listened to their album More. And you probably thought it was sweet as hell if you like their wacky shit, or you stopped listening after you realized it wasn’t like The Wall. Right?
So, maybe the fact that the album More is a soundtrack for a movie of the same name has passed into your knowledge base. Maybe you thought about acting on it. Let me provide you with a quick checklist to see if you’re ready.
Do you enjoy the more random music of Pink Floyd?
Do you enjoy seeing European people getting high and fucking?
Do you want to see Mimsy Farmer’s tits?
Do you want to see Klaus Grünberg’s cock?
Do you want to see Mimsy Farmer’s tits while she dances in front of a windmill while you worry that Klaus Grünberg will show you his cock again?
If you answered yes to any of the above questions, More might be for you. Granted, Mimsy’s breasts can hardly be labeled such. I think I have larger man-boobs on my bad days. But, boobs they are and I salute their appearance. Time and time again. I think there’s almost a good forty-five minutes of footage in this film of her melons.
The movie is basically a “Hey kids, lets get high and have a good time!” film for the first half or so, but the second half is damn haunting. Damn fucking haunting.
I don’t want to spoil it for anyone, but if you want to see an interesting take from the sixties on the ups and downs of drug use, this film delivers.
And the soundtrack is fuck-all awesome.





