Terry Southern's ribald novel based on Voltaire's classic tale of Candide is an amusing sexual satire that strains the imagination. As a movie, it tests patience. In Candy, former Miss Teen Sweden Ewa Aulin stars as the titular naïve beauty who moves from set piece to set piece under the thrall of eccentrics and mystics who all want to bed her. Candy is such a sweet young woman she thinks that any man who longs for her deserves to have that craving satisfied -- anywhere, any time, and with anybody. Each of her episodes is somehow interrupted -- some comically, some ridiculously -- and, straightening her clothes, she wanders into the next scenario. The stars who play the men of Candy's life each go over the top in their characterizations, and some of it is amusing: Richard Burton's demonic McPhisto, Charles Aznavour's hunchback with Spider-Man-like wall-climbing abilities, Marlon Brando's eye-rolling Grindl, and Walter Matthau's patriotic military man. But much of the rest goes on too long and to no apparent point, which, considering this was filmed at the height of psychedelia, may be the point. According to legend, not a few drugs were ingested in Rome during the filming; for complete comprehension, that may also be the best state of mind to watch it in.