John Boorman followed up Deliverance with this of all things: an undercooked high-concept scifi warning about the perils of genetic engineering and immortality and so forth; see Wikipedia for the details, and it is all details with no substantive core. Leaving aside reasons why, the film has the generally underclad landed gentry of Ireland arrange for Sean Connery to run around in red briefs with a gun and a ponytail — like Conan does a decade later? — and in another sense as a dry run for Highlander with the twist that Connery is the mutant mortal superman amongst the undying normies. It is a world in love with plastic and plastic inflatables until his arrival, after which all the ladies can only talk about procreation. Somehow Charlotte Rampling is the hottest thing he's seen since Pussy Galore (or was it Plenty O'Toole? — it's not like I'd know) and the inevitable happens, but only after he defeats the central intelligence that lives in a fistful of a diamond and possibly impregnates Sara Kestelman in return for enlightenment. It was probably a lot more fun to shoot than it is to watch. The title (and plot I guess) is derived from The Wizard of Oz.
Roger Ebert: two-and-a-half stars. The set designers did go completely nuts.