Take, for instance, 1970’s Beyond the Valley of the Dolls. Hired by 20th Century Fox, a studio on the verge of destitution, to sequelize and satirize 1967’s hit Valley of the Dolls, Meyer created a surreal, daring, and altogether hilarious film which keyed into the era’s drug-fueled zeitgeist, celebrating and lampooning simultaneously. According to Roger Ebert, who co-wrote the film with Meyer after enjoying the director’s previous work, Meyer, “wanted everything in the screenplay except the kitchen sink... [it would] simultaneously be a satire, a serious melodrama, a rock musical, a comedy, a violent exploitation picture, a skin flick, and a moralist expose.” Released within a week of the similarly outrageous Myra Breckinridge -- which included a scene where Raquel Welch rapes a man while draped in the colors of the American flag -- it separated itself through one key distinction: it was entertaining.

Like the original Dolls, BTVOTD follows the fortunes of three fetching young women who come to Los Angeles in search of success. Kelly (Dolly Reed) is the leader of the trio’s rock combo The Kelly Affair, and through a well-connected aunt, she brings the band to the attention of a superstar music manager named Ronnie “Z-Man” Barzell (John LaZar). He wrests control of the band from the hunky but whiny Harris (David Gurian), changes their name to The Carrie Nations, and fulfills the girls dreams for stardom, money, and love. There are, of course, prices to pay, as there are in all cautionary tales, though here those prices are stretched to improbable limits. The disconnect between the monumental pathos of the situations (“I’m going to have his baby!”) and the mostly air-headed delivery inspires moments of huge laughter. The result is like melodrama written by and intended for schizophrenics.

If Meyer didn’t inspire certain elements of modern editing techniques -- jarring jumps cut to a tense tempo -- he at the very least anticipated them. Though the late 1960s boast some of the most important and groundbreaking films of the century, even the era’s edgiest have become dated in certain ways (The shocking violence of Bonnie and Clyde looks pretty tame in 2004, for instance), but BTVOTD still feels both futuristic and timeless. It certainly captures its period, but it does so in a way that still feels fresh and unorthodox.