1,000 SHAPES OF A FEMALE (1963) * ½

An art dealer wants to put on a show dedicated to the nude female form in Greenwich Village.  After he scours the bohemian coffee shops looking for the right artists to showcase, we see the artists at work as they hire models to disrobe and pose for them.  It all ends with a big art show, and it isn’t long before it turns into a swinging party. 

Basically, the stuff with the art dealer just exists as an excuse to string together a series of scenes where an artist paints nude figure models.  Director Barry (The Beast That Killed Women) Mahon delivers these sequences in a workmanlike manner.  Most of these scenes are lukewarm at best, but I did like the parts when the artist used his models’ bodies as his “brush”.  

The performers include plenty of familiar faces from the ‘60s exploitation circuit such as Gigi Darlene, Darlene Bennett, Byron Mabe, and Olga herself, Audrey Campbell.  Despite a solid cast, the majority of 1,000 Shapes of a Female is pretty dull.  The performances by folk musicians are only there to act as padding and are sure to grate on your nerves.  At least some of the wry narration is good for a chuckle.  (Like when they try to draw comparisons of nude paintings to the works of the old masters.)  Speaking of narration, this is one of those movies that features narration that overlaps the dialogue and/or gratuitously explains to the audience the action on screen.  This shit gets annoying after a while.

The scene where an artist uses darts to pop paint-filled balloons for his work is kind of amusing, but the film needed more of these nutty touches to make it worthwhile.  Inexplicably odd moments (like when the models swap recipes while posing nude) help ensure there’s no chance of titillation whatsoever.  That is, unless you have a nude figure model and/or body painting fetish.  I guess.

AKA:  1,000 Female Shapes.