Oscar Wilde once said, "There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written." So too with cinema...in all its forms. Why should a film be snubbed just because it is sexually explicit? There are many examples of recent mainstream films that successfully incorporate hardcore sex into the narrative: Shortbus, Intimacy, and 9 Songs are a few examples. True, much of what passes for "adult entertainment" these days is unimaginative misogynistic garbage that's about as erotic as bag of dog turds but that doesn't mean there aren't a few gems amongst the flotsam. So, for what it's worth, here are my reviews of those...ummm...other films...
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A Coming of Angels (USA 1977) (3): An A-list ensemble of 70s porn stars are wasted in this dark (meaning poorly lit) tale of three undercover female officers who infiltrate a white slavery ring being conducted out of an isolated mountain cabin. It seems hapless women are somehow being lured into the basement where they find themselves collared, chained, and forced to submit to their Svengali-like captor before being sold off to the highest bidder. Of course the busty cops manage to lick the bad guys in the end while blowing the entire operation but not before the director manages to wring every ounce of male domination fantasies out of the proceedings. There was some potential in the brooding camerawork, clever editing and exceptional performances but ultimately cast and crew chose the low road.
Alice in Wonderland: An X-Rated Musical Fantasy (USA 1976) (6): Alice is a painfully naive librarian who dreams of being a woman even as she rejects her handsome boyfriend’s amorous advances. It finally takes a trip through a looking glass to the madcap (and shockingly liberal ) realm of Wonderland to free her from her inhibitions.....and most of her clothes. This infamous adult musical based on Lewis Carroll’s children’s book was first marketed as a mainstream softcore “nudie” by 20th Century Fox. Fox was apparently not aware of the fact that several hardcore scenes were also filmed but edited out of the final product....until Subversive Cinema managed to procure the naughty bits for this uncut DVD version. Oddly enough this strange little film actually works for the most part. The original songs are wonderfully corny; the sets and costumes, while obviously low budget, are bright and colourful; and the script is a bizarre mixture of 70’s burlesque and bedtime story. Of course the acting is hopelessly uneven and the sex scenes prove to be more distracting than integral, but there is a sense of innocent hedonism to the proceedings that I found quite entertaining. And Alice’s query, “What’s a nice girl like you doing on a knight like this?” is definitely one of the greatest film quotes I’ve ever heard!
Anyone But My Husband (USA 1975) (2): Nora, suspecting her husband of being unfaithful, decides to listen to the advice of her creepy psychiatrist and explore her own sexuality; starting with a champagne bottle (do NOT try this at home) and ending up in a bathtub menage-a-trois with a kinky fortune teller and her 3-legged assistant. By the time hubby is finally ready for some action all Nora wants is an ice pack, a couple of ibuprofens and a long nap. Marred by some truly awful 70s kitsch and horrible production values, not to mention a whole lot of non-acting by the cocaine-snorting cast. Add a silly S&M scene in an art gallery and you have a surprisingly effective treatment for insomnia.
The Art of Love (France 1983) (1): The final instalment in Borowczyk’s “Immoral Trilogy” and supposedly based on the work of Ovid. It is 8 A.D. and in one wealthy Roman household it’s adulterous liaisons and tepid orgies all around. Before the day is over a tumescent statue will receive some oral service, a man in bull drag will mate with an ersatz cow and a lethargic maiden will loll about in a fish tank with all the erotic conviction of someone who’s just fallen into a toilet. From the ludicrous script (badly dubbed) to the glaring soundtrack of singing centurions and disco muzak there is nothing even remotely titillating going on here. And, as a final insult to his audience, Borowczyk ends this gobbler with one of the lamest “twists” I’ve seen in some time. It’s a good thing Ovid is already dead because this turd sandwich would have killed him for sure.
A Time to Love (USA 1971) (7): “Some people are born pretty, some some people born plain, some people live a life that’s happy and some people live a life of pain, but all God’s children have a heart inside...” Despite the sappy opening theme sung by a chorus of drugged chipmunks...did they record it at the wrong speed?...this early hardcore feature possesses a surprisingly erotic edge that manages to compensate for some painfully inept acting. At their ten-year college reunion Ned Bangor and his old buddy John (a young, pre-moustache Harry Reems) start reminiscing about their sexual escapades. Now happily married, John nonetheless has a few steamy tales to tell while Ned, a confirmed jet-setting bachelor, has spilled his seed on sheets from Beijing to London. Among the film’s highlights are a prolonged session with an Asian masseuse (sans money shot), an international montage of Ned’s conquests complete with stock travelogue footage, and an unexpectedly intimate lovemaking session on a fur-covered waterbed. The 70s fashions are glorious and the eclectic soundtrack includes jazzy James Bond riffs and a nicely subdued rendition of Satie’s Gymnopedies. Aside from an ill-placed eight minute mini-documentary decrying pollution and global militarism (say what??) and performances that look as if they belong in a highschool hygiene film, A Time to Love contains more sensual appeal than anything being produced today.
Autobiography of a Flea (USA 1976) (8): Hypocrisy in its basest forms...moral, sexual and religious...forms the cornerstone of this period romp based on a 19th century erotic manuscript. Opening with the susurrant strains of a harpsichord the camera pans an immaculately appointed boudoir before focusing on a pampered pooch vigorously chewing its ass. This is when we are first introduced to the film’s narrator, a verbose body louse who has a keen interest in the puzzling behaviour of humans. Jumping through a convenient keyhole he finds a new home for himself on Belle, a curvaceous yet maddeningly naive debutante who’s just discovering her own sexuality. What follows is a series of lighthearted adventures involving lusty priests, lecherous uncles and oversexed hayseeds as Belle’s chastity falls into disrepair and is replaced by an increasingly cunning libido. In one of the more interesting scenes, a spartan church rectory plays host to a wholly secular gangbang (with John Holmes showing off his gift from God); while in another segment the flea saves Belle from an unwanted advance by delivering a well placed bite on her attacker’s dangling bits. It may lack the darkly salacious wit of the Marquis de Sade, and the faux Victorian dialogue gets tiresome after a while but the elaborate sets and costumes are well done and the energetic performances fun to watch even if the actual acting is hopelessly uneven. A good effort and certainly one of the better porn flicks to emerge from the 70s.
Babylon Pink (USA 1979) (7): Henri Pachard’s exploration of female sexual fantasies is an adult film classic that stands head and shoulders (or just head) above anything available today. During the course of one hot summer day the camera follows each woman in turn as she spends a few moments daydreaming about what might have been. From the frigid businesswoman who wants her accountant to do some creative number crunching, to the bored dinner guest who wishes she were the main course, the film unfolds in a series of self-contained vignettes that go from playfully erotic to scorching. Vanessa Del Rio and Georgina Spelvin prove once again that they could have had careers in mainstream films as they play a neglected housewife and stuffy socialite respectively, and the rest of the cast is in fine form...with the exception of glassy-eyed Samantha Fox who looks as if she ate a bowl of quaaludes for breakfast. Hot stuff.
Barbara Broadcast (USA 1977) (7): Imagine an upscale Manhattan restaurant where all manner of sexual hijinks are on the menu and the staff are more than eager to serve you. That’s the basic premise of this adult romp which focuses on a day in the life of one of that eatery’s more famous regulars, Barbara Broadcast...world-renown author, bon vivant and former escort. This is classic 70s porn made at a time when women still had natural curves, men had perms, and everyone had pubic hair. Unlike the mass-produced misogynistic garbage the industry churns out today there was an actual effort back then to combine a cohesive storyline with genuinely erotic sex. Aside from one scene featuring a consensual S&M encounter the mood in Barbara Broadcast is kept light and relaxed; the XXX content going from amusingly nonchalant to surprisingly intense...the “kitchen encounter” was especially well done. Smart, imaginative, and funny to boot!
The Beast in Space (Italy 1980) (2): Absolutely awful attempt to combine softcore sex and sci-fi adventure. This little cheese assortment tries to rip off Star Wars and Forbidden Planet (among others) as it tells the tale of a macho captain and his crew of porn models searching the galaxy for a fortune in rare metal. The special effects are one step above “frisbees on strings” and the simulated sex disappointing, although I’m told there is a XXX version out there somewhere. The only reason it gets a 2 instead of a 1 is because the actors were kind of cute, especially the big hunk with the unusually hairy legs...baa baa!
Captain Hooker and Peter Porn (USA 1987) (7): It’s all hands on dick as the busty buccaneer Lady Patricia spreads her jolly roger and takes on the terrifyingly tumescent Captain Hooker, scourge of the seven seas! Actually it’s just a handful of bored actors in period drag floating past the coast of Catalina Island on a private yacht done up with ropes and faux sails. Luckily the interior sets are a tad more convincing especially since they have to compensate for some lukewarm acting and phony piratical accents. The sex is pretty generic but spirited and well filmed, especially Hooker’s impressive double money shot, and those big hairy men look darn good in and out of their boots and breeches. What little plot exists is hardly worth mentioning though as it’ll get lost in all that fast-forwarding anyway. Too bad they forgot to get a parrot.
Coed Fever (USA 1980) (9): When a disgruntled cheerleader runs into the stuffy professor who gave her essay an “F” she decides to suck up and swallow his pride garnering herself an “A+” before she can even get off her knees. This little intro has nothing to do with the story, I just thought it was cute... Anyway, the “E Z” sorority sisters have enjoyed a longstanding liaison with the bad boys of “UPPA U OMEGA” much to the dismay of Dean Butts and wealthy benefactor W.R. Jackson whose bitchy daughter Kimberly happens to be class president. But when Newsmonth magazine decides to do an article on the the exclusive sorority, W.R. insists the girls break off their tawdry affairs and start dating the clean-cut men of Phi Upsilon Delta (P.U.D.) instead. Of course E.Z. and UPPA U don’t take kindly to having a big thick wedge driven between them so, despite Kimberly’s best efforts to enforce daddy’s wishes, the students hatch an ingenious plan to discredit both Jackson and P.U.D. involving assumed identities and a big bowl of spiked punch. It all ends with a happy drunken orgy on the front lawn with estranged lovers reuniting in various positions and Kimberly repeatedly getting what’s coming to her. This goofy Animal House send-up manages to achieve the perfect balance of cornball humour and steamy sex thanks to it’s gorgeous cast of 70’s porn all-stars. Aside from one girls-on-girls initiation sequence that begins with negligees and candles but ends with a cruel scene of sexual coercion, the overall tone is kept light and playfully erotic. A fine example of what an adult film can be with a little attention to detail and a handful of talented actors.
Dixie Ray Hollywood Star (USA 1983) (9): John Leslie, looking like Al Pacino overdosing on viagra, is a veritable one-man show in Anthony Spinelli’s impressive XXX homage to 1940’s film noir. He plays a private dick (ha ha) trying to discover who’s been blackmailing a former movie star with some compromising photos taken at one of her drunken sex parties. Is it the estranged husband? The crooked nightclub owner? The promiscuous daughter? And what’s with the dead lesbian on the floor? Full of double-crosses and double DDs, the movie excels with great performances, a tight script and striking camerawork. Set in 1943, Spinelli uses some very authentic looking sets, as well as clothes and hairstyles, to create a time and place that is pretty remarkable for an adult film. Even the cliché-riddled closing dialogue between the private eye and his detective buddies would sound right at home in any noir policier from that era. And did I mention one of those detectives is played by Cameron Mitchell?! Will wonders never cease...
Double Pleasures (USA various) (5): The lube flows freely in this two hour collage of porn snippets in which a bevy of glassy-eyed starlets show us just how many times two can go into one. Crammed with cheap polyester suits, bad male perms and nameless pop tunes (except for a wholly inappropriate excerpt from Mike Oldfield’s Ommadawn...sacrilege!) this potpourri of badly filmed stag loops, mostly silent, look as if they were recorded by a horny teenager using his dad’s Super 8 camera. But, despite the appearance of a few familiar faces, most of the participants have that appealing perv-next-door look and some of the men are downright attractive. What’s more, while the action is composed of pretty generic DP scenarios it’s still kind of sexy watching two guys “accidentally” cross pork swords and make a big mess on each other.
Easy (USA 1979) (8): The classy Jesie St. James, more convincing out of clothes than in, plays Kate Harrison, a 30-something high school teacher in search of sex, love, and a boyfriend to call her own in Anthony Spinelli’s adult classic. Bored with banging her students (who, oddly enough, appear to be older than her) she heads to southern California with its swaying palms and polyester leisure suits. Will this mark the beginning of a brand new life for her? On the plus side, Easy contains some truly erotic material: a liaison with a blind piano tuner involving scissors and a stick of butter is an obvious nod to Last Tango; a stuffy dinner party morphs into a series of hot one-night stands; and a rooftop seduction progresses so fast Kate’s date doesn’t even have time to take his sneakers off. Even an unpleasant encounter with a jilted girlfriend goes from a well-choreographed (and unintentionally funny) bitch fight to a steamy act of contrition as each woman gives the other a great big piece of her mind. On the minus side there are two wholly unnecessary scenes involving sexual coercion, one at knifepoint, which feed into the tired old male fantasy that insists women really want it even if you have to force them. Sexist daydreams aside, this is one of the better flicks to come out of the 70s and the mellow soundtrack of sax solos and disco divas is a nice touch.
Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals (Italy 1977) (4): Yet another soft-core adventure featuring everybody’s favourite nympho photojournalist; horribly written and horribly dubbed just the way we like it! This time around Emanuelle is working undercover in a psychiatric hospital when the newest admission, a wild woman found wandering around the Amazon, decides to chew a nurse’s breast off. Armed with her unique talent for mixing business with pleasure, our scantily clad shutterbug manages to uncover a few clues beneath the woman’s hospital gown while simultaneously getting her fingers wet. Suspecting that the patient ran afoul of real life cannibals, Emanuelle immediately grabs her camera and a clean thong and heads for the wilds of South America accompanied by her anthropologist paramour-du-jour. There, in the steamy jungles of Brazil, she will have to contend with an impotent big game hunter and his man-eating wife, a pious nun in garters, and a forest full of hungry horny savages. But not to worry, for even though her clothes constantly desert her our salacious camerawoman manages to make her way back to America without being eaten (for a change). A sultry soundtrack of porn ballads clashes nicely with some low-budget gore effects, including one especially nasty scene which lends new meaning to the term “split beaver”. Ciao!
Emanuelle and the White Slave Trade (Italy 1978) (2): This time around our slutty shutterbug is on assignment in Nairobi where she hopes to infiltrate the carefully guarded hideaway of notorious Italian gangster Giorgio Rivetti. But first her blonde friend Ely insists on showing her the sights including an impromptu visit to a local garage where Ely receives a five-point inspection and lube job from a willing mechanic while Emanuelle gives herself a manual overhaul in the front seat. After a brief lesbian shower scene where Ely proves that she is in fact not a true blonde, the two girls dress up as stewardesses, latch onto a visiting European prince, and finagle their way into Rivetti’s compound. One wild animal safari and hashish-induced four-way later, Emanuelle has her story and is bound for home when she hears of a white slave trade operating out of New York. Her investigations eventually lead to a private sex club in San Diego where she poses as a new trainee, ingratiating herself with the club’s stern madame and drag queen overseer. Her first assignment is to help an elderly senator work out a few kinks while Madame and a young protégée give each other a firm “thumbs up” from behind a two-way mirror. Upon discovering some awful truths about the establishment’s recruitment policy Emanuelle tries to escape only to be captured by the resident goon squad leading to a Kung Fu showdown in a bowling alley, an obligatory gang rape, an attempted lobotomy (I kid you not), and a personalized pap smear from a busty nurse. Things eventually do end on a happy note as Emanuelle straddles the plank with a boatload of horny fishermen while the newspapers print her incriminating photos. With its atrocious dubbing and choppy editing, obviously designed to keep things just this side of an “X” rating, this is one of the sloppier installments of the series. Not worth the price of emission.
Emanuelle Around the World (Italy 1977) (5): Here's some fun stuff to do while watching "Emanuelle Around the World"! (1) See how many famous landmarks you can name whenever Laura Gemser spreads her knees...."Ooh, it's the Golden Gate Bridge....and isn't that the Trevi Fountain?" (2) Whenever a nipple appears onscreen try and be the first one to yell "ROSEBUD!" (3) After each nude scene try and predict how many minutes Laura Gemser will keep her dress on. Who says a bit of mediocre Eurosleaze can't be fun.....and educational!
Emanuelle in America (Italy 1977) (6): Ten minutes into the film Emanuelle is threatened by a crazed gunman who wants to kill her in order to save the world from immorality. Luckily she manages to put her mouth where his money is and thus begins yet another carefree, clothing optional chapter in the life of our horny heroine. Whether she's enjoying a Venetian orgy or simply cuddling up with a good snuff film Emanuelle can't help but bring joy and a quick release to everyone she meets, even Mr. Ed gets a helping hand! The production values are above par, the theme song surprisingly wistful and the hardcore bits almost erotic (the "Tarzan" scene was my favourite). Not bad at all.
Emanuelle in Bangkok (Italy 1976) (5): Luscious Laura Gemser reprises her role of the beloved international photographer suffering from chronic overexposure in this poorly dubbed and flaccidly softcore tale of sex in high places. This time around she’s on assignment in Bangkok (no, I won’t stoop to cheap puns) ostensibly to do a photo shoot of the royal family even though her tight schedule seems to leave plenty of time for lesbian bubble baths, naked opium binges and a congenial gang rape. But sinister forces are afoot as the King is imprisoned and her apartment is ransacked. Luckily a group of German mercenaries are able to lend her several helping hands and she manages to flee to Casablanca just in time to satisfy a tent-load of Bedouins before beginning a torrid affair with the American ambassador’s daughter. D’Amato incorporates some cool travelogue footage with impressive location shots and a surprisingly wistful storyline...think of a chick flick made for dirty old men...that explores Emanuelle’s inner feelings almost as much as her outer panties. It’s too bad the whole thing ends up looking like it was pasted together using surplus footage from other films though; a better editor could have made a world of difference. Or not.
The Erotic Adventures of Candy (USA 1978) (6): “Candy...makes you feel so dandy...” croons the jaunty opening song as we see high school junior Candy Christian sharing a secret with her best friend; apparently the young lady has an itch to scratch but doesn’t quite know how to reach it. Her daddy won’t let her date boys until she’s more mature (despite being 20 and sporting a pair of 38DDs) and the boys at school bore her especially Buster Hymen the class heart-throb. Tired of humping her teddy bear every night she decides to have Manuel the gardener weed her pea patch and thus begins her titular escapades. From horny new age guru Balde Kishkas to her sex-starved Uncle Dick to Dr. Fillmore Entry, her gynecologist, everyone ends up getting a little taste of Candy before the day is through. Even John Holmes receives some sympathetic lip service to help him overcome his low self-esteem; “My thing is so ugly...” he moans as Candy dislocates her jaw. With its garish sets and horrendous performances this is pure porno kitsch. Lead actress Carol Connors gives the impression she couldn’t even spell “paper bag” let alone act her way out of one. Georgina Spelvin almost saves the day however with one of her campiest characters ever, Candy’s nympho relative Aunt Kraven, and there’s even a few brief man-on-man sex scenes; very rare for a mainstream hetero skinflick (the idea of female director Gail Palmer, perhaps?) I suppose there is some sentimental value here as I recall sneaking across the border to watch these films at the Six Mile Adult Theatre in Detroit all those years ago. I just don’t remember them being this corny.
Erotic Daughters of Emmanuelle (France 1974) (1): After exploring the downstairs of his upstairs maid, Professor Mueller retires from the rat race in order to establish a rustic commune where “pleasure is all that matters”…<fast forward>…lusty lumberjacks take a breast break…<fast forward>…aphrodisiacs and blowjobs save the day when three reluctant businessmen refuse to sign a contract…<fast forward>…a woman makes out with a skeleton and an old man is led around on a leash…<fast forward>…a cowboy bags a pair of twins; John Holmes does a Frank Zappa imitation…<fast forward>…two couples discover a third position…<fast forward>…entwined lovers roll around in the grass, fall into a river, continue to roll around…<fast forward>…a drag queen’s wig falls off in the middle of a passionate kiss but the other guy doesn’t notice…<fast forward>…some gangsters rip off a woman’s bra…<fast forward>…officials show up in a limousine and get punched in the face…<fast forward>…lesbian action…<fast forward>…everyone ends up screwing in a ravine. The End.
Every Woman Has a Fantasy 1 & 2 (USA 1983/86) (7): In part 1 we meet Ben and Terri Conti, a typical couple next door; while he goes off to work she attends her weekly women’s group where the girls exchange recipes and talk about their sexual daydreams. Turned on by the idea of all that female fantasizing Ben pressures Terri into revealing a few of the more sordid tales which not only spices up their own love life but whets his appetite for more. Soon he is having her sneak a tape recorder into the meetings so he can hear the women’s voices but even that is not enough to satisfy his insatiable curiousity. The next step, of course, is to have him join in the discussion disguised as “Jennifer”, a distant cousin from Seattle (John Leslie in drag...not pretty). Eventually all is revealed and a lesbian gangbang ensues with Ben in the middle. Despite the big ugly 80s hairstyles and sleazy disco soundtrack there is some decent camerawork here that brings all those fantasies to vivid life; a motel room seduction is especially well done. In part 2 we have more big hair, more canned disco, and more lusty scenarios. This time Jennifer, sporting a grotesque blonde coif resembling a bleached bird nest, appears on a late night adult cable program to plug her latest book on...guess what?...sexual fantasies! Pretty generic stuff although an impromptu lingerie show that morphs into a hot 3-way is almost memorable. The “high tech” gadgets of the time are funny to watch however; remember when VCR recorders were the size of a small coffee table?
Fantasm (Australia 1976) (6): Filmed in L.A. by an Aussie film crew, this little foray into softcore sexploitation explores the wacky world of female sexual fantasies. Host and narrator Dr. Jungenot A. Freud (get it?) introduces a series of vignettes designed to titillate those audiences down under who were just beginning to appreciate that country’s new “R” rating. Starting with a young woman who gets a very close shave from a trio of unusually hetero hairdressers the film’s mood seems to waffle between a low-keyed eroticism and outright burlesque. An altar-full of devilish monks stage their own version of the Burning Bush; a horny vixen ends up having a food fight with John Holmes after she wishes upon a banana; a proper southern mother entertains some incestuous yearnings when her handsome military son comes home for a bath; and a bored housewife finally finds a use for that strap-on dildo when a cross-dressing thief tries to make off with her panties. And of course there is the prerequisite girl-on-girl action as two women compare bust-lines in a steamy sauna. Aside from a troublesome “rape fantasy”, the film approaches its subject matter with a lighthearted tongues-in-cheeks sense of fun underscored by some unexpectedly graphic nudity. Beats the pants off of Crocodile Dundee.
Fantasm Comes Again (Australia 1977) (6): This sequel to the 1976 softcore sensation once again tested the limits of Australia's new "R" rating by offering more skin, more simulated couplings and more dubbed slurps. A fledgling journalist and her cynical mentor burn the midnight oil at a local Melbourne newspaper office preparing the next "Dear Collette" column; a sex advice feature in which a fictitious therapist responds to the steamy letters sent in by her avid readers. With a bottle of tequila firmly in hand the two ghost writers begin poring over the latest batch of one-fisted tales while the camera eagerly reenacts each author's exploits in a series of smutty vignettes. Among the film's highlights: an aspiring gymnast practices the horizontal bars on her coach's thighs; a virile lifeguard perfects his breaststroke with a trio of watery nymphs; and a guilt-ridden Catholic girl discovers the backdoor to salvation when she accidentally confesses her impure thoughts to a church janitor. Despite the bad 70s hairdos and some lifeless performances there is a sense of playfulness to the film which is genuinely erotic when it works, amusingly stupid when it doesn't. Aside from one glaring misstep (no guys, women DO NOT fall in love with their rapists) the tone is kept to a lighthearted hedonism. Plenty of female flesh for those so inclined, plenty of full montys for the rest of us.
Finders Keepers, Lovers Weepers (USA 1968) (2): Russ Meyer indulges his insatiable boob fetish once again in this very soft-core excuse for a crime thriller. The roguish owner of a seedy strip club avoids his confusingly frigid nympho wife by making frequent trips to a couple of high-end escorts. His wife meanwhile, looking like a seconal-popping botox junkie, has a few repressed desires of her own, namely shaking her sequined panties in front of a group of leering Shriners. Add to this a pair of bumbling thieves intent on robbing the club’s safe and you have all the makings of a really bad movie....and Meyer definitely delivers. Aside from one surprisingly good performance by a platinum prostitute the rest of the acting is about what you’d expect. It was interesting to see the many imaginative ways Russ used pillows, bedsheets and door jambs to avoid filming an actual penis but then again it didn’t really matter much because, apparently, sex in 1968 consisted primarily of rubbing shoulders together and wincing a lot. Yawwwwn...
Flesh and Laces: Part 1 (USA 1983) (3): When a wealthy recluse decides it’s time to die he gathers his four adult children around the hospital bed for a reading of his Will. Sadly, although they get to keep the homes he gave them, the remainder of his vast estate is to be donated to the “Foundation for Sexual Research”. There is a peculiar caveat however which stipulates that the money may still go to one lucky heir providing they can entertain dear old dad with a good old fashioned sex show which satisfies his cravings for flesh and lace. ”Oh, so that’s why he had those video cameras set up in our homes...” blurts out his bleached blonde daughter as each kid races home eager for a shot at the big prize. As one son rapes a woman who responded to his fake secretarial ad (with her full cooperation of course), another son rapes a woman who responded to his fake modeling ad (with HER full cooperation). In the meantime son number three ends up with more flesh than he bargained for when he turns the tables on a group of undercover police officers while the sole daughter proves you really can teach old dogs some new tricks when she forms a human knot with a trio of elderly businessmen. And all the while their father watches on closed circuit TV with one hand on the remote and the other on his joystick. Featuring poor performances throughout (one “policewoman” practically passes out on the couch) and tacky sets (mismatched furniture and cheap drapes hung on empty walls) this bomb is further marred by an awful soundtrack of wailing saxes and monotonous disco thumping. The routine scenes of dull mechanical sex are almost redeemed by some attractive actors but what was with the sci-fi sound effects accompanying the money shots? I’ll never be able to watch Forbidden Planet again without wincing...
Gestapo's Last Orgy (Italy 1977) (5): It's difficult to give this film an objective rating. If you were to compare it to "Citizen Kane" or "Chinatown" it would receive a negative score. But as a Eurosleaze nazi sexploitation flick it is a classic and must be judged using criteria appropriate to that genre. It is wholly gratuitous, it is in very bad taste, the acting is atrocious and the dubbing even worse and, lastly, it tries to justify its excesses with some weak moralizing and a ludicrous finale. Bravo!
The Good Girls of Godiva High (USA 1979) (2): It’s graduation time at the Godiva Girl’s Academy and the seniors (all seven of them) are just itching for a disco-style prom dance; but how to raise the necessary funds while selling the concept to their conservative headmistress, Miss Lena? Charlie the perpetually horny janitor has an idea but first he wants a crack at realigning class fox Diana’s messy backdoor (google santorum....yecch!) Meanwhile Angel takes one for the team as she convinces her D.J. boyfriend to provide the music for free. Not to be outdone, the creepy twins secure a venue by tag-teaming a local nightclub owner and Jay, the hunky groundskeeper, pleads the girls’ case when Miss Lena calls him into her orifice. Then there’s a strange desktop non-sequitur involving henpecked artist Ron Jeremy and his bushy wife which serves no purpose other than to increase the film’s length by another ten inches. Needless to say, the girls get their prom and everyone ends up satiated. Aside from Ron Bolla as Charlie (woof!) there is nothing here that even remotely resembles eroticism. The substandard production values seem more suited to a 25¢ peep show than a commercially released adult movie while the horrendous blank-faced performances made me wonder whether or not the Godiva girls take the “short bus” to school. In fact, watching this bevy of twenty-something teenage Lolitas struggle their way through all those two-syllable words the script demands of them is almost as painful as watching them pretend to fake their boring orgasms. Makes a compelling argument for home schooling.
The Inconfessable Orgies of Emanuelle (Spain 1982) (4): It's boobs, pubes, and bellbottoms on the sunny Mediterranean as yet another fleshy incarnation of our favourite naughty nymph doffs her duds and invites the world into her knickers. Be sure and check out the gorgeous views of southern Spain just past the heaving thighs and bouncing bums......ole!
Indecent Desires/My Brother’s Wife (USA 1966/67) (6): A wonderful pair of retro nudies made in the days when women sported mile-high hairdos and wore false eyelashes the size of toilet brushes. In Indecent Desires a discarded doll exerts an unhealthy influence on the skinny perv who brings it home. It proves to be a voodoo doll of sorts and every time he fondles its little plastic chest Anne, the busty blonde secretary across the street, gets an extra flip in her bouffant. It isn’t long before Anne begins to doubt her sanity and no amount of prancing around the living-room topless seems to help. Even her best friend Babs is unable to offer any comfort as she is too busy having simulated non-sex with her “continental” boyfriend (he goes to bed with a fake moustache, sunglasses and cigarette holder). In My Brother’s Wife virile Frankie spends a few days with his dumpy middle-aged brother Bob, and Bob’s improbably sexy wife Mary who looks like a goth Barbie on xanax. Frankie and Mary’s inevitable affair is narrated in a series of monotone voice-overs coupled with jarring close-ups of their faces...and hands...and shoes...and nostrils. There’s a wonderful avant-garde sleaziness to these tawdry tales that is difficult to pin down. Perhaps it’s the ultra-cool beatnik soundtrack that runs the gamut from supermarket muzak to old-fashioned bump’n’grind. Perhaps it’s the bizarre B&W camerawork that looks like a collaboration between Roger Corman and Salvador Dali; a baffling girl-on-girl sequence involving a checkered couch is especially odd. Or maybe it’s just the delightful trashiness of it all; from the gaudy 60’s decor and tacky recycled sets to the lurid storylines (both women succumb to their wantonness). A real unexpected pleasure!
Justine and Juliette (Sweden 1975) (6): I suppose one could see all sorts of Freudian imagery in this ribald little comedy about a sexually aggressive woman and her equally repressed sister...the latter’s “virtue” eventually rewarded through an interesting combination of sex and death. One could also comment on the use of religious irony.....the sexy stage show based on the story of Sodom and Gomorrah for instance. But for the most part it’s just a lot of innocent “T” and “A”, with a guest cameo by Harry Reems and his insatiable “C”. The production values are above average and the film contains some decent hardcore scenes that would have been effective if only the participants hadn’t looked so bored. If you like some semblance of a storyline, however tenuous, to go with your explicit sex you could do worse.
Justine de Sade (France 1972) (6): Told mainly in flashback, this scandalous tale based on the writings of the Marquis de Sade recounts the sad story of the hapless waif, Therese; orphaned at the age of twelve and sentenced to jail on false charges by the time she turned twenty-three. On the way to prison her guards decide to stop in at a country tavern where she makes the acquaintance of Juliette, a ruthless courtesan who slept her way to the top and now owns a sprawling mansion bought with the money she acquired from her unfortunate clients. Juliette is immediately drawn to the poor girl who begins to recount the shocking details of her unhappy life. Taken advantage of by every man she ever met, Therese nonetheless clung desperately to her virtue no matter how many times she was yanked out of her petticoats. Despite her pure intentions she always seemed to end up stripped, whipped, and unzipped...even seeking refuge in an isolated monastery backfired when it turned out the resident monks were into some decidedly sacrilegious kink. After hearing Therese’s sordid story Juliette makes a shocking discovery which eventually leads to the film’s beautifully ludicrous finale. Even with its prurient imagery there is a cheeky satirical wit to this tale, as if the infamous Marquis was laughing up his sleeve as he wrote it. Much hollow praise is given to piety and virtue yet it is quite clear that the older woman prospered for lack of either one. Lastly, the script’s surprisingly lyrical prose lends an air of respectability to what is essentially a highbrow exercise in S&M excess.
The Lickerish Quartet (Italy 1970) (4): In an extravagantly appointed castle atop a hillside a jaded 40-something couple and their secretive young son while away the hours watching crude B&W stag films and making derisive comments on the “type” of women that would stoop to such behaviour. It seems cruel mind games and bitter reproaches are de rigueur with this wealthy little triad until one day they spot a woman at a carnival who bears a striking resemblance to one of the porn actresses they’ve been drooling over. Upon bringing her home they soon discover the tables turned against them as the young Bohemian acts as both a moral catalyst causing them to examine the petty lies and hypocrisies that make up their lives, and a sexually liberating goddess who guides the couple in exorcising their private demons while helping the son overcome his religious guilt. Or something like that. There is certainly an element of European arthouse sleaze at work behind all the pretentious banter and jiggling breasts though. Full of annoying 8 mm flashbacks, bad paintings, and cheesy theological imagery you get the feeling that Metzger bit off more than we are willing to chew as he tries to examine issues of love and identity within the framework of a softcore nudie. There are some nice touches along the way however; one particular stag film morphs into a series of repressed wartime memories for mom, while dad and the mysterious woman screw on a library floor made up of oversized dictionary pages with words such as “phallus” and “fornicate” figuring prominently. But in the end it’s just camp, corny and outrageously overblown; a sterling example of mental masturbation at its worst.
Malabimba the Malicious Whore (Italy 1979) (2): Take a nubile young naif, a busty cougar, an altruistic lesbian nun and a couple of sexually frustrated men. Throw them in a gloomy old castle and add one lustful spirit. Shake gently and voila....you have "Malabimba"......or as I prefer to call it, "The Father, The Nun, and the Horny Ghost". With its generic hardcore close-ups and histrionic presentation, this cheesy little dish will delight sleaze connoisseurs of all persuasions. Leave it to a good Catholic pornographer to equate a young woman's sexual curiosity with demonic evil. BOO!!
Messalina, Messalina (AKA: Caligula II) (Italy 1977) (6): A ribald sex comedy about the amorous exploits of Messalina, wife of Emperor Claudius, who spends her days screwing the palace staff and her nights moonlighting as a high end hooker. Forget historical accuracy, this is more like an X-rated version of A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Forum complete with a stuttering flatulent Claudius who even bears a striking resemblance to Zero Mostel. Corbucci delivers a disarming mixture of slapstick humour, witty one-liners (badly dubbed, of course) and poorly edited softcore dalliances that had me laughing out loud more than once, much to my surprise. The grandiose costumes and sets, “borrowed” from the original Caligula, are put to good use and make the film look as if it had a much larger budget than it actually did. And the final scene, in which Claudius orders the wholesale slaughter of Messalina and her cohorts, is a supremely silly bit of Pythonesque overkill. Definitely not for all tastes, but it sure put a smile on my face.
Naughty Nudes 65 (USA 1965) (1): Okay, as a gay man I suppose my opinion on these all-female stag loops will have to remain completely objective, but with titles such as “The Writhing of Awilda”, “Milky Thighs, Bedroom Eyes” and “Gertie’s Glistening Garter” can anyone take them seriously? It’s hard to believe these poorly focused 10-minute exercises in tedium actually had our grandfathers reaching for the hand lotion; I mean how many times can you watch a topless Wal*Mart cashier with really bad hair loll aimlessly on an unmade bed anyway?
Night Hunger (USA 1983) (2): I couldn’t stay with this turkey for long, so here’s the fast forward version. A morbidly obese barkeeper entertains a young customer with tall tales of the infamous “Blair House”; a local mansion with a colourful past. It seems that all who’ve lived within its walls ended up being cursed with satyriasis (apparently the director had access to a dictionary) which rendered them slaves to their sexual desires. From the turn of the century right up to the new wave 80’s we catch glimpses of some of the perverted dalliances of the house’s past inhabitants; all poorly filmed in sepia & white with atrocious dialogue (“My groin swells with its need...my prick will not be denied”), horrid acting and a cheesy electro soundtrack that calls to mind the worst of Italian eurosleaze. Think of it as Hell House with a boner...then go watch something else.
Night of Perverted Pleasures (Volume 1) (USA ~1970s) (4): A trio of grainy skin flicks featuring a cast of coked-out sluts and limp lounge lizards turns your ordinary living room into a sleazy peepshow booth of days gone by! In Marriage American Style, a confused Candy seeks the services of divorce lawyer Mr. Pooch, but not before his secretary, Miss Grunt, gives her a couple of points to chew on. Her marriage is ultimately saved however when her husband decides to take a few diving lessons. In Love Me or Leave Me another divorce lawyer develops a bone of contention while listening to the sexual ramblings of his all-female clientele which eventually leads to some desktop diddling. And in Bull’s Market a cash-strapped CEO decides to pay off his creditors by letting them take a dip in the secretarial pool. All three feature an odd musical soundtrack of science-fiction synthesizers and 1950’s sitcom themes, while Marriage contains one of the strangest Marx Brothers parodies I’ve ever seen. These dirty little shorts are sure to thrill you with their daring shots of dangling testicles, pimply butt cracks and gynecological close-ups so extreme you can almost count the nits. Bon appétit!
Olympic Fever (USA 1979) (8): A bevy of retro porn all-stars buoy up this silly comedy about an evil Russian plot to sabotage the U.S.A women’s Olympic swim team so that their beloved commissar's daughter, Natasha Jerkoff, can go for the gold. The commies send in their best secret agents to explore every nook and cranny of the team’s star athlete in an attempt to discover the secret to her poolside prowess but the little water nymph remains steadfastly tight-lipped (but open-mouthed). The sex is very well done and runs the gamut from low-brow burlesque when a doctor convinces one of the girls he has performance-enhancing sperm, to a lighthearted eroticism when a promising young swimmer does a few extra laps in the snow with her hunky hirsute coach. And Ron Jeremy proves he’s better at servicing himself than producing a serviceable Slavic accent. Aside from an interrogation scene that goes a bit too far the rest of the film is just one big playful romp full of good-natured 70s indulgence. Ah, the memories...
Orgy of the Dead (USA 1966) (2): Ed Wood penned this slapdash hybrid of sexploitation nudie and monster movie, and his loving incompetence shines in every frame. Horror author, Bob, decides to overcome a monumental case of writer’s block by hopping in his car and going in search of an inspirational graveyard. Accompanied by his red-headed dipstick fiancée, Shirley, he drives up and down the coast in the dead of night (no wait, its the middle of the day, nope, it’s night again) until a missed turn causes him to roll the car, spilling the poor lovebirds into the middle of a cheap cemetery set strewn with plastic bones and styrofoam headstones where they find themselves at the mercy of the boneyard’s chief denizens; an old queen in a casket and his goth chick assistant. As Bob and Shirley try their damnedest to look terrified, they are forced to watch a zombie burlesque show featuring a series of clunky ad-libbed striptease numbers, some light S&M, and guest cameos by the wolfman and mummy. But when the sun finally rises the ghouls are turned to ash and our two heroes realize it was all just a dream. Or was it? Oh this is such a bad movie on so many levels; it’s complete lack of any production values puts it right up there with Plan 9 From Outer Space on my list of the best worst movies of all time.
Outlaw Ladies (USA 1981) (8): Female empowerment gets a high octane boost in Henri Pachard’s adult film about sexually aggressive women who won’t take “no” for an answer. There’s the bored trophy wives who decide to take matters into their own hands when their cheating husbands pull one too many late nights at the office; Miss Lacey, the famous lingerie model and proper southern belle whose virtue is negotiable; the successful attorney (Veronica Hart looking like a 1940’s screen siren) who keeps a jar of vaseline in her office for those special occasions; and the two high society heiresses who get their kicks sniffing sheets in seedy motels. The lacklustre script and generic musical score are more than compensated by some very good performances and imaginative sex sequences. As with many adult films some of the most memorable scenes don’t involve sex at all; the telephone conversation between a receptionist...Merle Michaels as a dispirited Mia Farrow...and her overbearing mother as the boss tries to undo her blouse is pretty funny.
Phantasm (USA 90s?) (2): A nervous couple decide to visit Phantasia; an adult nightclub catering to the sexually adventurous. Given a choice between simple socializing or taking “the challenge” they opt for the latter which involves experiencing three intense sexual encounters before the evening is over in order to win a free membership. After a night of wild abandon involving jungle chicks, horny mannequins and doms with strap-ons they not only win the challenge but become co-owners of the club itself. Phantasm’s horrible synthesized disco soundtrack, lackluster sex, and acute absence of eroticism only go to prove that the golden age of porn ended somewhere in the early 80s with the advent of home video recorders. Cheaply made, cheaply presented.
Porn Mail (USA 70s?) (2): David is an editor of adult films whose freshly rehabilitated wife has gone missing. Is she back on dope? Cheating on him? Turning tricks again? To find out he hires a drunken private eye to track her down only to discover the double-crossing sot has been secretly blackmailing the poor woman who is indeed back on the streets. Can David find her before it’s too late? There is a certain bygone charm to this film with its gritty handheld views of Manhattan and naturalistic urban soundtrack composed of traffic noises and incidental pop tunes. But the sex scenes themselves are nothing more than grainy stag loops with dubbed moans and squeals while the “plot” is just a lot of cheap lines poorly presented. Furthermore the lighting is awful and there is neither continuity nor any evidence of professional editing. The final scene in which a woman is assaulted by a sadistic john was the final straw. If it’s retro sleaze you’re looking for you’d be better off grabbing a bag of quarters and heading to your nearest peep show.
Porno Holocaust (Italy 1981) (5): I like porn. I also like zombie movies. Leave it to Joe d’Amato to put these two great genres together to make this little peanut butter cup of a film! Since the copy I received was dubbed in Italian with no subtitles I had to guess as to what was happening. Apparently a boatload of hapless tourists get shipwrecked on a tropical island where they take turns eating each other before the well-hung mutant who lives in a nearby cave shows up for sloppy seconds. The sex scenes are well done, although the gore is a bit tame, and the cheesy soundtrack is just right. The only thing missing was a pair of 3D glasses.
The Private Afternoon of Pamela Mann (USA 1974) (7): Why is this guy walking down a Manhattan sidewalk with a super-8 camera taped to his head? He’s a private eye of course, hired to spy on the sexy trophy wife of a jealous tycoon who suspects her of cheating on him. It would appear the millionaire’s suspicions are well founded as the detective brings him reel after reel of film depicting his wife in compromising situations as she gives lip service to a passing stranger, goes for a ride on a local gigolo and eats out with her girlfriend. As the hapless gumshoe continues to tape her carnal escapades however, his own professional detachment begins to falter and he soon finds his stiff upper lip pointing in the wrong direction. This is a fun and imaginative film that possesses a playful eroticism and a clever twist at the end. There are some strange little non-sequiturs along the way that nevertheless seem to work; the tycoon’s secretary receives a daily poke in the eye from the cute office clerk for no apparent reason, and his wife is being stalked by a dyke reporter who tries to solicit her views on everything from poverty in America to emerging African nations. Even the great Georgina Spelvin has a cameo playing a soft-hearted hooker who manages to straighten out a gay client without even smearing her lipstick. The whole thing ends with an exceptionally well filmed closing montage featuring, among other things, a good old-fashioned missionary coupling on a burnt orange shag rug. It doesn’t get much more 70s than that.
Saturday Night Beaver (USA 1986) (3): Full of repetitive mechanical sex scenes wrapped around the barest excuse of a story, the best thing about this lame flick is the title. That, and porn unknown Jim Harker who bears an uncanny resemblance to a science teacher I once had a crush on in highschool. We start with Jeff and Angel happily planning their upcoming marriage when a sudden fight breaks out over who is the most caring partner causing Angel to grab her panties and go home. Cut to Jeff pining away with his best bud over a half-eaten pizza when his pimped out brother (a distressingly gaunt John Holmes) arrives to take the men out clubbing. Next scene has the two guys dividing up a trio of drunken Hooters girls; as Jeff borrows one for some interactive pre-marital counseling his buddy satisfies the remaining two on his cheap modular couch while trying to avoid getting a high heel in the eye. Next night, same tricks different chicks until Jeff, overcome with guilt, rushes to Angel’s house only to find her bonding up to her eyelashes with his sister-in-law. This proves to be the catalyst which not only gets the two lovebirds talking to each other but also leads to an impromptu rehearsal of their upcoming wedding night. Sophomoric to the extreme, and rather discomfiting to watch an obviously unwell Johnny Wadd flying high without a condom.
The Seduction of Lacy Bodin (USA 1975) (2): Soon-to-be bitter divorcee, Lacey Bodin, gets ready to walk out on her cheating husband when a handy bottle of booze gives her cause to sit down and ramble off an angry monologue. In flashback we see how her ideal marriage to Jason began with a drunken bushwhacking on the nuptial staircase and ended with her becoming a “classy whore” to satisfy his increasingly kinky demands. And no matter how vehemently she protested being used in such a degrading manner, Jason was always able to quell her hissy fits with a few angry words and a firm finger. Between servicing his frizzy-permed buddy and bobbing for beaver with the girl next door, Lacey eventually became disillusioned with sex and instead found comfort in being a lonely voyeur. Now, newly single and ready for adventure, she falls in with Anne, a free-spirited Bohemian with a taste for chocolate. Poorly framed, poorly lit and featuring performances more leaden than usual, Lacey Bodin is a dreary suburban porn-opera of boring sex and lacklustre characters. It is further hampered by the lead actress being way too old to play a blushing bride while her “natural” 70s curls makes it look as if she’s hosting a family of dwarf raccoons in her underwear. Should have been called The Induction of Lazy Boredom.
SS Girls (aka: Private House of the SS) (Italy 1977) (7): During WWII, Nazi bigwig General Berger suspects a traitorous plot is being hatched against the Fuehrer by a cabal of disgruntled officers. In an effort to expose them he seeks the services of Hans Schellenberg, a lisping maggot sporting a cheap wig and the mind of a psychopath. Hans eventually comes up with a brilliant plan to trick the generals into revealing their secrets; he rounds up a bevy of local hookers and turns them into lethal “love machines” capable of extracting a confession from any man. With the help of his evil sidekick and sometime lover Inga, a sultry Ann Margaret lookalike cursed with an ugly gash (on her face), he puts the prostitutes through a vigorous training period. When they’re not being raped and tortured the girls study karate, swordplay, and the fine art of shooting a machine gun while wearing sexy lingerie. And of course there are lessons in lovemaking; from servicing lecherous old men and sadistic lesbians to one-legged hunchbacks and canine commandos (German Shepherds, of course). Eventually they are placed in a secluded brothel where they prove to be the downfall of every man they come in contact with...including their former masters. Make no mistake, this is a vulgar exercise in softcore excess replete with gratuitous nudity and sex. But beneath its revolting surface there are occasional flashes of depth. Mattei makes clever use of religious imagery, often juxtaposing it with nazi trappings for ironic effect; in one scene Schellenberg passes judgement on the errant generals while dressed like a mad pope adorned in mascara and swastikas, a drunken orgy makes darkly satirical allusions to the last supper, and the film’s final scene is a twisted take on the Flight into Egypt. Hitler is presented as a vengeful and omniscient god, Gen. Berger an infernal tempter, and Schellenberg a disillusioned messiah; while Inga proves that Hell hath no fury like a woman scarred when she unleashes a divine retribution on her unfaithful lover. Unquestioning fanaticism then, whether it be religious or nationalistic, is ultimately destructive; and the film’s bleakly hedonistic climax wherein whores and generals throw one final bacchanal while the Allies invade drives the point home with an unexpected force. Wonderfully surreal, patently offensive, and strangely captivating.
SS Hell Camp (Italy 1977) (2): Is there nothing those zany nazis won’t do in the name of world domination? Batzella’s shameless sexploitation flick follows the escapades of the aggressively bisexual Dr. Ellen Kratsch, looking like a particularly nasty Lufthansa stewardess, and her two jaded assistants. When she’s not perfecting her serum which turns men into big lumbering rape machines, Ellen moonlights as an SS interrogator who terrorizes male members of the Italian resistance with an odd combination of improvised lap dancing and castration while their women are subjected to some extreme indignities involving flaming trash cans, jumper cables, and a pair of ravenous guinea pigs. Will the surviving partisans triumph in the end? Will Dr. Kratsch get what’s coming to her? Will the hairy man-beast ever realize that oral sex doesn’t involve a knife and fork? This is a truly awful movie that looks as if it were filmed in someone’s backyard with a few loops of stock war footage tacked on for good measure. The dubbing is unusually atrocious with the “Italian” underground speaking in accents that range from a clipped British staccato to a slow southern drawl, and the action sequences are so amateurish you almost expect to hear a laugh track in the background. In fact, remove the film’s more contentious scenes and you are left with a terribly mediocre story that’s not even good enough for late night cable. There are some very entertaining entries in the “sex and swastikas” sub-genre of film but this is definitely not one of them.
The Stewardesses in 3D (USA 1969) (3): Billed as the world’s first 3D sex comedy, this little cheese platter follows the adventures of five oversexed and under-talented sky sluts on an extended layover in Los Angeles. While number one doles out a mercy shag to a Viet Nam vet number two tries to sleep her way into a lucrative modeling contract. Meanwhile number three mixes LSD with skim milk and finds herself on surprisingly intimate terms with a table lamp. Finally, number four seduces number five by convincing her that really boring lesbian sex is an awful lot like swimming. As a bonus there’s a bar fight, some groovy music and an incomprehensible murder/suicide. And throughout it all the director doesn’t miss a single 3D cliché as everything not nailed down gets shoved in front of the camera; from pool cues and bullet bras to barking dogs and yawning beavers. Although the novelty of watching all those unfocused boobs float hazily in front of you, outlined in red and blue, wears thin pretty quickly a side trip to an amusement park does provide some pretty cool funhouse footage. Too bad the script plods along and goes nowhere, the laughs are non-existent, and the softcore sex scenes are just plain dull. Not even 3D glasses can give this turkey any depth.
Stiff Competition (USA 1984) (6): As the national fellatio championships draw closer, the $50,000 grand prize is attracting eager contestants from San Francisco to Beaver Creek, Texas. The real competition, however, seems limited to New York’s “Cynthia Silkthroat” and California’s “The Mouth” until oral manager extraordinaire, Jeff, latches on to newcomer “Tammy the Tongue” and turns her into the Rocky of sword swallowing. But wait, here comes dark horse “Patty Cakes” and her crooked manager who is not above stacking the dick in her favour. Will they upset Tammy’s dreams of becoming the best-loved mouth in America? Yes it’s just as silly as it sounds but, amazingly, some scenes are actually well done. A training montage in which Jeff puts Tammy through a series of tongue-ups before having her practice on an array of dildos and faceless volunteers provides some good cheesy fun while a couch encounter between Tammy and Cynthia’s manager “Snake” (a perpetually tumescent John Leslie) shows a remarkably restrained eroticism. Ron Jeremy’s turn as promoter Don Head is about what you’d expect and the rest of the cast is mostly forgettable. Not good enough to win any medals, but Gina Carrera’s Tammy is a shoo-in for Miss Congeniality.
Sweet Surrender (USA 1980) (6): York Madison is an aspiring slimeball who has just penned a guidebook on how to con women into having sex. After having Stoop to Conquer turned down by one publishing company after another he finally ends up in the office of a very receptive female CEO who practically begs him to explain each chapter to her, and thus begins a series of dramatized seduction scenarios. Things start off with the story of an ersatz doctor who promises a lucrative secretarial position to a hopeful young woman providing she can pass an impromptu desktop physical. Then there’s the pair of scantily clad bimbettes who are overcome by the erotic appeal of a filthy sweatshop and end up in a tangled free-for-all with the slave-driving managers and their sole illegal alien worker. To be fair, they end up paying the hapless drudge overtime. Next up, a hunky security guard gets his zipper polished when he convinces a drunken groupie that the key to Mick Jagger’s private suite is somewhere in his pants. And finally, the director makes a decent attempt to emulate the softly-focused nonsense of European arthouse erotica as we watch a skinny office worker fantasize about the woman next door. Of course the CEO is so turned on by York’s litany of one-fisted male fantasies that she bends over backwards in order to impress him; then delivers the inevitable double-cross that puts him back in his place. Despite the annoying typewritten opening credits the production values are fairly good and a few of the sex scenes are almost convincing. Naturally the mixed cast of professionals and unknowns have some trouble delivering their lines, and the whole affair fails to achieve the level of wit it was aiming for. Pleasantly unexceptional.
Taboo (USA 1980) (5): Starts out promising enough with a domestic bedroom scene between married couple Barb and Chris (played out against a gaudy headboard reminiscent of the half shell in Botticelli’s Birth of Venus...art direction anyone?) But Chris, unhappy with their sex life and eager to move in with his secretary, decides to cum and go at the same time leaving poor Barb to fend for herself and their virile young son, Paul. Barb eventually lands a secretarial job in a real estate firm where a courteous and respectful office rape soon leads to romance with her lounge lizard boss. Paul, meanwhile, is having some nasty fantasies about his mother...fantasies that become reality one night when she accidentally walks in on him having a wet dream and then accidentally takes her clothes off as she accidentally falls on top of him. Tasteless and vulgar to be sure, but its hard to be shocked when mother and son are obviously the same age. Aside from the “taboo” scenes there are still some colourful examples of 70s porno kitsch here, most notably a good old-fashioned swingers’ party featuring a 20-piece daisy chain. The film is ultimately a disappointment however, ruined by glassy-eyed performances, flubbed lines, and a poorly improvised script. Even Oedipus would have walked out.
Take Off (USA 1978) (7): In the 1920s a vain young man is seduced by a wealthy older woman who secretly records their afternoon tryst just for kicks. Amazed at how wonderful he looks on film Darren becomes obsessed with staying youthful and beautiful forever. His secret wish is granted, after a fashion, when he begins to realize that as the years pass his looks remain unchanged while those of his celluloid counterpart become increasingly ragged. This “Stag Film of Dorian Gray” unfolds in a series of flashbacks covering each decade from the 20s to the 70s as a still handsome but world-weary Darren recounts his strange tale to a hot-pants wearing bimbette he meets at one of his naked pool parties...a playfully hedonistic episode which looks as if it were the original template for the opening sequence of Boogie Nights. This is a fun, though unremarkable romp rich in period detail but marred by some horribly uneven acting, especially Wade Nichol’s terrible Bogart imitation. The original soundtrack is well done incorporating jazz, big band swing, and acid funk, while the set designs are above average; I was especially impressed with the sepia-tinged scenes as Darren recalls his earliest years with the older woman (Georgina Spelvin, amazing as usual). In addition there are some not-so-sly movie references, most of which fall flat. Finally, despite the rather cutesy ending, the film still left me with one of the better lines I’ve heard in an adult movie. He: “Do you smoke after you fuck?” She: “I don’t know, I’ve never looked.” BWAAAH!!!
The True Story of the Nun of Monza (Italy 1981) (4): “Nunsploitation” films are a genre of celluloid sleaze I’m not at all familiar with, but any movie that opens with scenes of a nubile young novice taking her final vows intercut with very graphic images of horses mating can’t be all bad. The story centres on Sister Virginia de Leyva who enters into convent life shortly before her wealthy father dies. She soon discovers that when the sisters at Monza are not praying for salvation they enjoy reading pornography and hosting lesbian flogging parties; there’s even a guest cameo by a hunky Jesus complete with bulging loincloth. Anyway, with the passing of her father Virginia suddenly finds herself very rich and very powerful, a situation that puts her into direct conflict with the overbearing Mother Superior and leads to all sorts of debauchery, mayhem and murder. Virginia is eventually raped and impregnated by a rival landowner which naturally causes her to fall deeply, madly, in love with him and thus begins her downward spiral, both emotionally and spiritually, into the dark abyss of mortal sin. Thank God the Inquisition shows up just in time to save us from a sequel.
Uta (USA 1968) (4): A fine example of grindhouse trash from the adult theatres that used to litter Times Square 40 years ago. Uta is a red-headed vixen who’s not ashamed to let you know she’s a high class hooker on the side. We join our little bombshell as she busily prepares herself for tonight’s hot date. Sitting in a bubble bath with her mile-high flip and batwing eyelashes, Uta meticulously polishes her nipples and bum before dousing her panties with perfume and throwing on a sexy frock. To liven things up she decides to take Carl, her trick-du-jour, to a swinging strip club before heading back to her place for some simulated sex. On stage a very stoned hippy chick tries to master the twin concepts of buttons and zippers while an irritatingly discordant jazz soundtrack makes your teeth ache. Later in the evening Uta has a fling with her lesbian doppelganger and then, just as you’re reaching for another wad of kleenex, they die in an inexplicable car crash. Kind of makes you wonder, huh?
Vintage Erotica Anno 1920/1930/1940/1950 (France, various) (7) : Nothing is new under the sun, and looking at these old B&W stag films I'm inclined to agree. Made back in the days before silicone breasts and collagen lips (and Brazilian waxes, apparently) these little shorts prove that our great grand-parents could be just as jaded as us...albeit with a bit more imagination and humour. From naughty nuns to men in gorilla suits there is something here to shock and amuse all tastes. A fascinating porno time capsule!
Violence and Flesh (Brazil 1981) (2): A beautiful lesbian couple invite some beautiful actress friends to their beautiful ocean front villa for a beautiful weekend of fun in the sun. The tranquil visit is cut short however when a trio of armed and horny convicts decide to evade the police by holing up in the women’s home for a few days. Luckly the jailbirds are led by a polite and sexy Marxist who only robs banks in order to strike a blow against society’s bourgeois values and is therefore content to while away the hours discussing economic theory with the hapless girls or watching them rehearse for their upcoming play. But his cohorts’ tastes run more towards rape, sodomy, and forced girl-on-girl sex shows leading to a night of repeatedly ripped lingerie and very smeared lipstick. With the police slowly closing in and the head escapee falling in love with one of the actresses the stage is set for an explosive finale awash in tears, tits, and flying bullets. An exceptionally sleazy example of 1980s-style softcore sexploitation (known as “pornochanchadas” in Brazil) this tawdry little skinflick crosses so many lines in so many awful ways that any initial disgust one might feel quickly turns to tedium. From a sanctimonious lecture on Brazil’s economic disparity to an impromptu striptease at gunpoint (I’ll leave you to connect the dots on that one) this South American turkey is far more likely to elicit giggles than cries of outrage. The tacked-on love affair between kidnapper and distressed damsel (“I admire your sense of ethics…” she gushes during a seaside tryst while her friends take turns being gang-banged) is just the sort of mindless pap that elevates Violence and Flesh from lurid shocker to midnight cult staple. “For Mature Audiences Only” LOL!
Wet Rainbow (USA 1974) (6): Valerie and Jonathan (Georgina Spelvin/Harry Reems) are a happily married couple living in a trendy New York apartment. While he teaches photography at the local community college, she pursues her career as an abstract painter. Everything is going well until the arrival of free-spirited Rainbow, Jonathan’s quirky new student (an unconvincingly naive Valerie Marron). At first fantasizing about the young coed adds a little spice to the couple’s love life until Valerie develops a psychotic infatuation with Rainbow which compels her to paint multiple portraits of the lithesome Lolita while absentmindedly performing cunnilingus on an orange slice. Could she be turning into the dreaded “bull dyke” of her husband’s worst nightmare? When the two women eventually meet face to crotch Val suffers a monumental meltdown à la Baby Jane, quickly followed by a soapy bathtub free-for-all when Rainbow comes back for sloppy seconds. Afterwards the cunning little temptress decides to garner a few extra credits with Jonathan by taking an impromptu oral exam in the darkroom... Will their obsession with Rainbow eventually ruin their marriage, or can Jonathan and Valerie climb out of this dark pit of self-loathing and anguish? Full of hysterical performances and moody lighting this is the kind of porn Ingmar Bergman would have made. Unfortunately sex and crushing despair are not a very appetizing combo despite a few well-filmed sequences like Spelvin and Reem’s angst-ridden romp on the couch. There is some unexpected artistry at work here however; whether it’s a giant nude image of Rainbow projected on the couple’s bedroom wall while they make love, or the film’s wonderfully downplayed final scene, after the inevitable three-way, in which Rainbow quietly exits the apartment while Val and Jon sleep contentedly in each others’ arms. The only thing missing was a money shot.
Wham-Bam-Thankyou Spaceman (USA 1973) (1) : Horny aliens land on Earth and set about trying to mate with human women as part of "Operation Procreation". Really bad attempt to emulate the softcore campiness of Flesh Gordon. Not worth your time even with the fluffy disco hit, "You're My U.F.O. Romeo".
Wild Weekend (USA 1984) (2): When her parents go away for the weekend thirty-something Ginger decides to have the gang over for a party....exactly why a thirty-year old is still living at home is never explained. Anyway, while waiting for her guests to arrive Ginger has fun seeing how many body parts she can count using her razor-sharp lacquered nails. One lesbian encounter on the sofa later (with cameraman clearly reflected in a mirror) and the house is filled with horny friends who proceed to have a half-hearted poolside orgy before retiring to the living-room for a half-hearted fireside orgy. “Gee...” remarks one thirty-something gal pal rearranging her pearl necklace, “...my parents are gone next weekend, maybe we could have another party!” “Oh boy!” chimes everybody before the screen fades to black and we hear the director counting down to zero. Personally I don’t like orgy scenes as I have trouble matching genitals to faces, but when they are done this badly it really doesn’t matter. Wild Weekend will have you longing for Monday...
