Kris Kristofferson, at his drugged-out peak in the mid-70s, finds himself barely able to squeeze on to the screen alongside La Streisand's humongous ego and discount-store feminism.

None of the characters are really likable; I was _so_ glad when Kristofferson's Ferrari went over that hill and crashed.

If you want to see a good movie about rock and roll stardom, try _The Buddy Holly Story_ (made only about a year and a half after this dreck).