Harold is baby-faced young man obsessed with death. His family is horribly rich and Harold, lacking the need or desire for a job, is mostly employed with faking his suicide—hanging, shooting, or disembowelling himself as the mood takes him. His performances are all for the benefit of his superWASP, ice cold mother, but she has grown so used to his behaviour that she can do laps beside his apparently drowned corpse without breaking stride. Maude is days short of eighty but more full of life then anyone Harold has ever met. She’s exuberant, irreverent, and quite literally wants to make every moment count. She’s also a car thief a drives a mile a minute. Natually, Harold and Maude become lovers. Whoa, whoa—simmer down! Don’t run away. This isn’t Basic Instinct or anything. Beyond a few kisses and a suggestive fade-to-black, there’s nothing all that sexual in the movie. Unless you see the Director’s Cut—now that shit’s crazy! Frottage, auto-erotic asphyxiation; let’s just say there are so...