At once splendid and blown. For 1966, the future is rendered confidently (aided by British post-war prefab, flatscreens, and a monorail), and the ending, while tongue-in-cheek, is sincerely poetic. Still, Werner and Christie's chemistry couldn't make toast burn, much less books, and plot holes remain wittingly gaping.
before the title, be warned—there are possible spoilers in the review.
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