A catchy little melodrama about a longhair, pot-smoking Weatherman on the lam from a bank heist in northern Maine. Caleb's underground cell of revolutionaries is trying to fund the overthrow of the state but the big robbery is a disaster because of an informer in their midst. However, Caleb winds up with the cash and is forced to haul ass through a Maine woods blizzard. Some dope-growing hippies hide him out in the country. But Caleb is hexed: just to help him means pain, perhaps death. When he escapes the police net and hits the Big Apple, the Weathermen themselves are not only after the money but his skin. The scenes shift through ratty lower East Side pads, lofts and dope bars, with varied dealers and shaggy types either using or being used by him. Rapid action, hip dialogue and the Weatherman scene keeps the quasi-authentic cynicism moving.