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Volere, Volare

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Critics' Reviews

AMG Review
Sidney Jenkins

It would be a kick and a half to sit in on the story conferences for Volere, Volare, because its target audience is so schizoid. The level of humor in the first hour or so of the picture falls into the camp of The Three Stooges in Orbit or the Police Academy series (and even that may be too grandiose of a compliment - Volere isn't as intelligent or as funny as those films). And that alone means that it would find its most loyal viewership among seven or eight-year-old boys. (All true). But wait, just a second. In one subplot, the lead actress parades around in the buff and acts out bizarre sexual fantasies for her "clients" (such as being drenched from butt-to-toe in chocolate sauce), another substory involves a gentleman who dubs porno films with the help of scantily clad bimbos who roll around on mattresses, and the picture descends, for its final thirty minutes, into an R-rated cartoon, with an animated (and anatomically correct) caricature of its director running around naked and bedding the lead actress. This constitutes one of those "What in the hell were they thinking?" films. If one were forced to pinpoint a demographic, it would be something like an audience full of goofball man-children (like Dave Coulier's Joey on Full House) - with insatiable libidos. The picture's absurd combination of elements suggest the kind of so-terrible-it's good roundelay that could add up to a must-see for bad film connoisseurs (ala Hieronymus Merkin) but Volere, Volare is too dull to merit a recommendation, and lacks the courage to entertain viewers with true-blue raunchiness. (It suffers from sexual elements so innocuous and naive that they appear to have been written by a thirteen-year-old virgin). At least it never becomes mean-spirited. ~ Sidney Jenkins, Rovi

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