Finian's Rainbow has a way of building on the viewer and listener with each new encounter, though an objective study of its merits makes it hard to determine just why. Maybe it's the casting of such characters as those played by Astaire, Steele and Wynn, who seem to embody archetypes woven throughout the literature of the screen. The film certainly has its share of all-out exuberance, to suggest something rightfully sited in such Summer of Love days as 1968. So many of the scenes, too, are of folks with so little formal social structure, aside from that imposed by Senator Rawkins, his troopers and by analogy, his dogs. One often has the image of folks with too much time on their hands, looking for yet another reason to have a party. So it is, into this waiting collection of hedonistic yet well-intentioned expectations that Og the Leprechaun can inspire such furious action. The whole set of affairs is a surreal one, and even ridiculous at times, given a basic knowledge of American pop culture, only the viewer cannot help but be swept into the momentum of the assorted proceedings, both musical and verbal alike. While it may look contrived in many places, Finian's Rainbow's exaggeration is something the soul seems to want, and it is the natural tendency of the mortal man, after all, to be wishing while on other men's property.