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Karl J. Kipling's rating of the film The Gang's All Here

American kitsch at its ripest - and creepiest. Perhaps had I dropped acid prior to viewing it the film's grotesque abstract musical sequences would have kicked me over the moon, but, as I was unfortunate enough to see this in a state of total sobriety, they only greatly added to the discomfort I felt at the sight of the bananas atop Carmen Miranda's head, the lunatic gleam in her eyes.