From Monday's VILLAGE VOICE:

I'm worshiping Foster Hirsch's Otto Preminger, The Man Who Would Be King, a gorgeously researched biography of the erratic, moody, but sometimes brilliant Hollywood director who wielded a whip made of chutzpah. Otto's one of the main luminaries of my bad movie club thanks to some of his stellar misfires, like Skidoo (a lovably failed psychedelic comedy with a trash can ballet and Groucho Marx as a mobster named God), Such Good Friends (an erection-toppling marital satire featuring a b.j.-getting James Coco and a nude Burgess Meredith), Tell Me That You Love Me, Junie Moon (a feelgood film about a burn victim, an epileptic, and a disabled homosexual), and Hurry Sundown (one of the most high-lariously misbegotten racial epics ever made—though who can forget Burgess Meredith, fully clothed this time, muttering about 'a syphilitic old [n-word] woman'?)