Watching an old Elvis musical:
- The woman is psycho. I mean, we’re talking straight-jacket & padded room material.
- Can we say pseudo-p*rn to music? Ack!
- And while Elvis is a decent actor, he has the misfortune to play one of the most confused members of the male species. I mean, seriously. You DO NOT — I repeat, D O N O T — fall in love with psycho-chicks who stalk you and rearrange your life for you and who hurt themselves just to get you to let them stay in the house they bought for you because they took over your freakin’ life. You just, DON’T. Especially when they can’t even decide what name they want to call themselves.
And furthermore, you do not get involved with girls who sic their Great Dane on you whenever you do something they don’t like (mind, this is the dog they let sleep in a baby bed and who’s food they sneakily test out on you as if it’s no big deal).
You just don’t.
 At least he sicced the dog on her at the end.