The movie takes us back to a more innocent era, when "VD" was spoken about only in hushed tones, cars were the size of speedboats, and everyone's kitchen was done up in mustard, avocado, or Aztec Gold. To a California that could still afford to send a permed bureaucrat to your house to tell you you've got syphilis. Where grocery store cashiers still gave out trading stamps.
It's a world where women thought of miscarriages as being their fault and as an understandable excuse for their husbands to walk out. And one where working women like Leachman's character toiled away under the ugliest hobo statue you've ever seen. (And there's a pencil-drawing of this weird toy on the wall, too!)
Someone I Touched is bizarrely riveting throughout, but don't miss the scene where Leachman worries that she could give birth to a "baby without any ARRRRRRMS....!" If you grew up on the super-earnest message-of-the-week TV movies of the 1970s, this one will whet your appetite for all those vintage Patty Duke, Susan Blakely and Meredith Baxter flicks that are all sitting in a network vault somewhere.