After a whirlwind courtship, Lilli (Abbey Heller) marries a handsome artist named Emile (Robert Parsons). She knows she’s in trouble straight away when dozens of his eccentric artist friends crash their honeymoon and throw a surprise party. The fact that he leaves at all hours of the night while his creepy butler leers at her doesn’t help matters either. Or that every time she winds up alone with one of her husband’s whack-a-doodle friends, they reveal themselves to be potential psychos. Then, there’s the matter of the persistent caller who hangs up whenever Lilli comes on the line. Is the mysterious person on the other line trying to warn her? Or are they nuts too?
Honeymoon of Horror has a potentially intriguing set up, but after that, it’s duller than dishwater and boring as fuck. It might’ve been worthwhile if the filmmakers were satirizing the art scene and skewering the quirky characters that populate it the way, say, Roger Corman did in A Bucket of Blood. These bozos get on your nerves from the moment they arrive on screen and act more as red herrings than any sort of art world caricatures.
Apparently, there’s an alternate version that includes some cheap nude inserts. I can’t tell for sure it would’ve made a difference since it’s so damned dull. However, it might’ve taken the sting out of all the dreariness. On the plus side, Heller isn’t bad (it’s a shame that this was her only film role), and I did enjoy the extensive use of library music, some of which was more famously used in Night of the Living Dead.
A cheap floozy gets the best line of the movie when she shrugs off a near rape and says, “He was a minor sex maniac… NOT a murderer!”
AKA: Orgy of the Golden Nudes. AKA: The Golden Nymphs. AKA: Orgies.
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