Someday people are going to recognize what a pioneer Blake Edwards was. Yeah, probably not for a real long time, but this guy was a genius. Stop laughing. Released in 1979, right before the go-go eighties started, this picture got a lot of play because of Bo Derek and her high cheekbones and high boobs and the cornrows on her head, (which were significant because she was a white chick, doncha know). But this flick is a serious examination of male menopause and how it fucks with the head of successful composer (Dudley Moore), who is freaking out because he's 42 years old and decides he's madly in love when he spots a girl on her way to her wedding. Edwards sets the film in the world of affluent Californians, and yeah, it's a farce, with Moore doing all the requisite Peter Sellers-style slapstick, but there's big anthropological subtext in the details here, kids, honest. The ritzy Cali cocktail parties with real lounge music, the cars, the houses with all the mod cons. It's how the other half lived, and it's fascinating.