Eight Miles High
Provided by Metacritic.com
The movie presents the surfaces of Obermaier's life but never lets us understand who she was.
Deliciously dumb, reasonably well-made.
The New York Times
Like most flower-power nostalgia trips, Eight Miles High has the irksome effect of reminding the audience -- whether too young or too square -- that it missed out on the grooviest moment in history, man. But as these things go, this one goes with flair.
The film's tone is utterly indistinct, beyond fatuous adoration of its subject.
Los Angeles Times
Any film that uses the Stooges' drone-y song "We Will Fall" to underscore a drug-love scene can't be all bad, but they, as apparently does Uschi, deserve better than this.
New York Post
Has little to offer beyond titillation and pretty landscapes.
German supermodel Uschi Obermaier slept with Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, and all we get is this lousy biopic.
The A.V. Club
If the movie had greater style, it might approach the delirious badness of "The Valley Of The Dolls," but it's too dull to qualify as camp.
One long tease -- not in a voyeuristic sense, since its heroine, as nakedly incarnated by pouty Polish sexpot Natalia Avelon, hides none of her obvious talents under a bushel.
Stoned on the story's '60s-sex-bomb potential, Bornhak piles on the sex and forgets the bomb; the result is unaffecting filmmaking, as slack-jawed and superficial as its subject.
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