Usually I love Lesbian movies even when they are not very good. I'm biased, I guess! <br /><br />But this one is just the pits. Yes, the scenery and the buildings are beautiful, and there is a brief but beautiful erotic interlude, but otherwise this movie is just a complete waste of time. Annamarie alternates between sulking and getting high/stoned/passing out on whatever drug or booze is handy, and Ella inexplicably puts up with this abominable behavior through the entire movie. At no time are we given any insight into why this is so, or even why Annamarie is so depressed and withdrawn.<br /><br />If there had at least been some kind of closure in the (potentially romantic? we don't even know!) relationship between the two, there might have been some kind of satisfaction. But although Annamarie at one point asks Ella "why do you love me?" Ella doesn't even acknowledge this. It's never really clear whether this is anything more than an (ill-behaved) Lesbian on a boring road trip with a straight woman.<br /><br />Even the interactions between the two women and the local people they meet on the journey, which could have been lively and informative, are instead flat, tedious and mostly incomprehensible.<br /><br />There is one good joke in the movie, although I'm sure it was unintentional. The women travel in a two-seat Ford coupe with a middling sized trunk. Yet when they set up camp, they have an enormous tent, cots, sleeping gear, and even a table, chair, and typewriter! On top of that, when they board a ferry, we see piles of luggage, presumably theirs, presumably also carried in the little Ford's trunk! <br /><br />And through the entire film, we never see one gas station, or anywhere that looks like it would actually have any place to buy gasoline. Mostly they travel through endless miles of desolate desert. So where did they get fuel?<br /><br />There may not be too many Lesbian films out there, good or bad, but there are plenty that are better than this, and very few that are worse. Leave this one in the rack.