That is, the weed would help cheer on this goofiness! Meet Dr. Thorne. Brilliant beyond measure. He determines, with almost nothing to go on, that a probably extra-galactic intelligence has come to earth to set up shop and is attempting to communicate through tumbleweeds, frogs, and rocks. He is an amazing man. But he can't figure out where a road is when he's directly across from it. He drives too fast on a narrow dirt road and smashes into a rock. He thinks he's going to start farming in the middle of Vasquez Rocks. And he married a hysterical shrew with a voice that could split the atom. Nonetheless, his brilliance sparkles. When he is about to engage his incisive intelligence, he turns slightly away from the camera and looks up -- your can HEAR his mental mechanism churning away like an Enigma machine.
Sure, the threats are genuine, out there in the desert. The tumbleweeds are horribly intimidating and frightening, as tumbleweeds so often are. And who wouldn't be scared into catatonia by an army of bullfrogs, croaking, croaking?
Mrs. Thorne will make you want to slit your throat. She is knowing and attractive, and starts out seeming pleasantly sarcastic and even a bit witty. But then she says the most amazing thing, something like "In a cathedral, you dare not even whisper -- it would be a desecration. Here, I feel as though if you shouted, the sun would die." Nathanael West, watch your back, man!! After that astonishing statement she just screams, cries and trembles her way to the impotent conclusion, about which the less said the better.
If I sound too critical, I'm just pointing out the worst groaners. There's lots to love in this.
