I'm not a huge Russ Meyer fan, so I approached The Seven Minutes with a fair amount of apprehension; I was expecting something titillatingly kitsch but ultimately boring. Early on I was pleased to find myself engaged with the conspiratorial obscenity trial storyline and was also just enjoying the seventies campness of it all. I was particularly happy when a young Tom Selleck appeared onscreen as the head of the publishing house (fuck you Magnum, PI!). Okay, I don't want to over sell this, it's not a great film by any strech of the imagination, but the frequent attempts by corrupt politicians and officials to quash any investigation and the absurd trial itself, means it more or less carries its two hour running time without becoming too dull. It's far closer to a conventional drama than your typical Russ Meyer effort, which as far as I'm concerned isn't a bad thing. That said, the occassional flashes of Meyer trademark salacious and surreal camera angles (and the obligatory cast of huge breasted women) increases the oddity factor, whilst reminding you who's at the helm. At the end of the film there's a satisfying monologue on the merits of freedom of expression, just incase you hadn't already picked up on the theme that the film had been hammering home the whole while. Stick it to the man!
The editor of Now or Never! mulls over a selection on cinematic oddities for your amusement. More about Tug