Eight Miles High!

It has few human insights, and those of the most obvious kind. But it is not boring. That goes for something.

The attractive but bird-brained German biopic Eight Miles High brings up the question of tone, and it never comes close to answering it. The film's tone is utterly indistinct, beyond fatuous adoration of its subject.

Eight Miles High, based on the memoirs of Uschi Obermaier, wants to be both a tangy piece of Eurosleaze and an overview of one woman's transformations from the heady days of the 1960s onward.

Has little to offer beyond titillation and pretty landscapes.

Like most flower-power nostalgia trips, Eight Miles High has the irksome effect of reminding the audience " whether too young or too square " that it missed out on the grooviest moment in history, man. But as these things go, this one goes with

Reminiscent of the Edie Sedgwick biopic “Factory Girl,” “Eight Miles High” is noteworthy only for its ability to name-drop.

Refreshingly, a '60's nostalgia trip from the self-indulgent point of view of the German template for the beautiful-naked-model-bedding-chauvinist-rock-god formula.

Once your main character walks into a room and finds her boyfriend cheating on her with another woman while a chimpanzee in a dress looks on, you've pretty much lost your shot at a serious movie.

Natalia Avelon is great to look at - either naked or in see-through clothes - and that's enough to merit 8 Miles High! a three-star-rating.