DEEP INSIDE (1968) **

Millicent (Peggy Steffans) invites a bunch of friends for a get together at her posh beach house.  She soon sets out to pit her friends and their respective lovers against one another by using their desires, lust, and jealousy against them.  As the week goes on, her manipulations intensify, pushing one poor schmo to the brink of murder. 

Written and directed by Joe Sarno and released by Cannon long before their Golan-Globus days, Deep Inside is a bit of a slog.  Your enjoyment of the film may depend on your tolerance of Steffans’ conniving character.  She isn’t bad in the role, but Sarno does little to break up the sameness of the scenes where she plays her friends against each other.  (Whenever the characters sneak off to cheat, it’s always accompanied by a shot of Steffans with a shit-eating grin.  I swear if she had a mustache, she’d be twirling it.)  It also doesn’t help that the supporting characters are mostly one-note.  Plus, it’s hard to build up much sympathy for them when they are so easily led by her obvious ruses. 

Sarno's movies (especially his early ones) are usually just as interested in sex as they are with the intricacies of the women and men (and the women and women) that have it.  That ratio typically fluctuates from film to film.  With Deep Inside, much of the concentration is on dull relationship drama that sometimes veers into soap opera territory.  (It often plays like a bad Cassavetes film with occasional nude scenes.)  These lapses can be forgivable if the acting is strong and/or the sex scenes are steamy.  (I’m thinking specifically of Mary Mendum in Sarno’s Abigail Lesley is Back in Town.)  As it is, the sex scenes in Deep Inside are tepid, mostly because the participants are so dreary.  If they’re not having fun doing it, why should you have fun watching it?

The sole exception is the scene where some lesbians eat a peach before getting down to business.  If the film had more sequences of this caliber, it might’ve been easier to overlook the more maudlin aspects.  Ultimately, Deep Inside is a rather shallow experience. 

AKA:  Deep.

BEWARE THE BLACK WIDOW (1968) **

Director Larry (All Women are Bad) Crane’s Beware the Black Widow very much feels like a throwback.  It has the overall vibe of an old radio show, the constant organ music could’ve come out of a silent film, and the title character would look right at home in an Old Dark House mystery.  In fact, it would look like a Monogram movie from the ‘30s had it not been for all the nudity.  That hodgepodge of influences helps make it memorable, even if the film isn’t exactly successful. 

A call girl witnesses a figure in a black veil murder someone in an alley.  Later, a newspaper reporter sees the figure in black kill another person.  The connection is that both victims worked for a crime boss who runs the city.  He soon takes it upon himself to find the killer. 

Beware the Black Widow is goofy fun for a while, but the pacing hits a serious snag about halfway through.  It’s here where we get a long-winded flashback to “The Old Country” that explains the Black Widow’s motives.  The movie might’ve survived one of these flashbacks.  However, in the very next scene it gets played out again from another person’s point of view.  It’s totally unnecessary and only serves to pad out the running time.  I mean, Rashomon it is not. 

Sharon (Indecent Desires) Kent gives the best performance in the film as a dancer with a dark secret.  She looks fantastic and performs several stripteases, which are the main reason to watch it.  The most memorable character though is the guy who looks like a cross between Elvis Presley and the Phantom of the Opera.  Too bad he doesn’t get a lot of screen time. 

Amazingly enough, Crane sang the awesome theme song that sounds like an Irish drinking song on acid.  The soundtrack is full of bangers too, including “I Want a Doll for Christmas” (which accompanies a high energy striptease).  These ditties add to the nutty atmosphere, but they can’t salvage what is ultimately an uneven experience. 

VIOLATED! (1975) ***

A maniac is running around Hollywood in a variety of scary Halloween masks raping and cutting up women.  He sneaks into Rene Bond’s house and rapes her in the shower and carves a swastika on her breast.  As the police blunder about, the rapist claims more and more victims.  Bond then teams up with a fellow victim (Susanne Suzan) to take the law into their own hands. 

Violated! was the final film of exploitation filmmaker Albert (Confessions of an Opium Eater) Zugsmith.  It came out the same year as Rape Squad, but like that film, it doesn’t quite live up to its potential.  (The Rape and Revenge genre didn’t really hit its stride till the likes of I Spit on Your Grave and Ms. 45 came along.)  It could’ve been dynamite had it not been for the fact that Bond is essentially a supporting character.  One can only imagine how things would’ve played out had the screenplay given the dull detective less to do and put most of the focus on Bond’s quest for revenge.  Still, there are plenty of unexpected turns and nasty moments here to make it work. 

Bond looks amazing throughout, particularly while in her red leather miniskirt and matching boots.  We all know she was one of the hottest sexpots of all time, but with Violated! she gets a real opportunity to show off her acting chops and she doesn’t disappoint.  She’s excellent in the scene where she yells at the detective for merely suggesting that a jury might think she led her attacker on.  She’s so strong that show often wipes the floor with her fellow thespians.  As a consequence, the dramatic scenes that don’t feature Bond (especially the boring police interrogation scenes) pale in comparison.  At least the attack sequences have a kick to them.  

Overall, despite some missteps along the way, Violated! is a winner.  Zugsmith delivers the sleazy ‘70s sexploitation goods and gives us a handful of strong sequences.  For fans of Bond, this will be a no-brainer, but anyone who likes their grindhouse fare dark and depraved will also want to seek it out. 

AKA:  The Hollywood Ripper.  AKA:  The Rapist.

EMMANUELLE IN SOHO (1981) *** ½

Emmanuelle (Angie Quick, using the stage name Mary Miller) is a fashion model who is having an affair with her photographer, Paul (Kevin Fraser).  While Emmanuelle is doing all right for herself, Paul is struggling to make ends meet.  Because of that, his wife Kate (Julie Lee) decides to audition for a nude revue.  When Paul realizes his boss (John M. East) has been selling his photos on the side, he sets out to get payback with the help of his two lovely ladies. 

Fake Emmanuelle movies were made all over the globe.  I think the only other British Emmanuelle movie I’ve seen was Carry On Emmanuelle.  (There’s even a poster seen in the background in this movie for a rip-off called Emanuelle Meets the Wife Swappers.)  This was considered by many to be the last film in the cycle of British sex comedies.  If this was indeed to be the final curtain call for the genre, I’d say they went out with a bang (if you catch my drift).  Emmanuelle in Soho is highly enjoyable, mostly because it features wall to wall nudity.  There are sex scenes, lesbian photo shoots, casting couch auditions, random scenes where Emmanuelle doesn’t have any clothes on, nude dance auditions, stripteases, naked partying, and lesbians in hot tubs. 

Quick appears in more scenes naked than clothed, and when she is seen wearing them, they don’t stay on for very long.  She didn’t make too many other pictures, but her willingness to disrobe at the drop of a hat makes her one of the more memorable fake Emmanuelles of all time.  Lee is also plenty hot and what she lacks in acting talent she makes up for with her lack of inhibitions.  (Sadly, she passed away shortly after the film was released.)  East is pretty amusing too as the old publisher who makes jokes that have been around since the vaudeville era (some of which are still funny). 

For the first twenty minutes or so of Emmanuelle in Soho, you’re going to think this is going to be a classic.  However, it gets a bit plot heavy in the second act.  By “plot heavy”, I mean women only get naked every three minutes instead of every two.  The ending is a lot of fun though, and final party scene is a scorcher.  The theme song, an energetic Euro disco number, is great too and will leave you tapping your toes.  All in all, it’s a fine British sex farce. 

CENSORED (1965) ***

Barry Mahon’s Censored has an ingenious (and fake) gimmick.  It purports to be a compilation of footage that was cut out of adult movies for being too spicy.  Really, it was just a bunch of new stuff Mahon shot and threw together.  By using the gimmick, that means he can dispense with such cinematic elements as plot, competent acting, a basic sense of storytelling, an intelligible soundtrack, or coherence and get right down to business.  Brilliant!

Our host shows us clips from a wide range of sources.  The scenes are taken from such genres as nudist camp documentaries, nude figure model flicks, horror movies, bondage pictures, as well as a collection of “bedroom scenes”.  While he rails against moralistic censors, he doesn’t seem too pleased by the movies we are being show.  Nevertheless, he defends the filmmakers’ rights to make them. 

As an actual moviegoing experience, Censored is little more than a bunch of unconnected nude scenes strung together.  Some nude scenes have a pretense of a plot, like a couple on their wedding night or a husband coming home to find his wife’s lover hiding in the closet.  Many of these scenes are so tame you’ve got to wonder why anyone would’ve thought they were scandalous in any way, shape, or form. 

There are some moments here that flirt with delivering what the premise promises.  There’s a snippet from a horror flick where a girl gets her leg sawed off that has a kick to it (no pun intended) and the scene of Nazi torture would look right at home in an Ilsa movie.  One kind of wishes Mahon pushed the boundaries a bit further.  Then again, he probably would’ve run the risk of being… well… you know… censored.  Whatever polish the flick lacks is a moot point.  Seen purely as an exercise is exploitation hucksterism, Censored is top notch.  

AKA:  This Picture is Censored.

PROFESSOR LUST (1967) ***

Professor Lust starts off like it’s going to be the sexploitation version of The Nutty Professor before going off into an entirely weird area all its own.  Strangely enough, it never really takes advantage of the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde theme inherent in the material either.  The fact that it doesn’t go where you’d assume just adds to the unpredictable nature of the film (and the fun).  If you’re in the mood for a perplexing and entertaining dose of WTF ‘60s sexploitation smut, it’ll be worth a look. 

One whiff of his secret formula turns a mild-mannered professor into an evil heroin-pushing kingpin who keeps a harem full of topless women in his cellar.  With the aid of his junkie sidekick, he’s perfected a drug that can make his ladies think that hideously deformed men are actually handsome and fuckable.  Oh, and he also uses the girls to star in the stag movies he makes on the side.  A prudish co-worker senses the professor is up to no good, so she follows him home and quickly falls victim to his evil ways. 

Professor Lust has a cool opening where the professor is on trial and tells his story to the jury (the audience) before heading into a flashback.  In another puzzling display of unpredictability, the film never circles back around to the courtroom again.  In fact, as far as I could tell, the professor never got arrested for his crimes since it ends with (spoilers) his henchman and his co-worker stealing his formula and taking over his operation! 

There’s another random sequence that doesn’t really go anywhere and similarly feels like it’s only there for padding purposes.  It involves men and women in Victorian era costumes participating in an orgy.  It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but if you have a thing for women in powdered wigs and/or in drag, it’ll be a moot point. 

So, overall, Professor Lust is an odd, sometimes frustrating, but always entertaining romp.  It never goes quite where you think it should, but by doing so, it makes for a memorable and unique viewing experience.  Director William Rose was also responsible for the minor classic Rent-a-Girl and The Smut Peddler, which is sadly lost. 

Our heroine’s rambunctious roommate gets the best line of the movie when talking about the titular character:  “He swings so far out, he makes Tarzan look like a cripple!” 

THE IMP-PROBABLE MR. WEEGEE (1966) ** ½

Arthur “Weegee” Fellig was a famous photographer in the ‘40s and ‘50s who was known for his sensational pictures.  He was able to parlay that notoriety into appearing in a handful of movies like Jules Dassin’s The Naked City.  By the early ‘60s he was appearing in nudie-cuties.  A few years later, he was headlining this one. 

Weegee gets busted for trying to marry a mannequin.  At the police station, he tells how he came to be enamored with his companion.  He leaves the streets of New York for London to investigate a supposedly haunted house.  From there, he heads to Paris where he climbs the Eiffel Tower and peeps into women’s windows using his telephoto lens.  Next, he appears on a Danish cooking show before finally setting out to become an artist. 

This is a weird fucking movie.  I’m not sure who the audience is supposed to be as there’s not enough factual information to make for a biopic of Weegee and not quite enough skin to score as a solid nudie-cutie.  The comedy bits (like Weegee’s run-in with a barber who doesn’t speak English) are uniformly unfunny, and the wraparound scenes at the police station are only there to pad out the running time.  However, if you enjoy antiquated oddball oddities like this, you might dig it.  It’s certainly never boring, and it even manages to be fun in spots. 

I guess this movie was ahead of its time.  Weegee’s love for his mannequin seems like the blueprint for today’s generation of people who are getting into romantic relationships with sex dolls.  Thankfully, we never get to see him consummate the “marriage”. 

If the nude scenes weren’t so darn brief, this might’ve skated by with ***.  The highlight is a great sequence where an enormously breasted woman shaves her legs in the nude.  Too bad moments like this offer more tease than please. 

Weegee is definitely an oddball character.  With his scrunched-up face, he kind of looks like Popeye (a resemblance that only intensifies during the scene where he’s chewing on a long, skinny pipe).  Real pictures taken by Weegee are also used, ranging from crime scene photos to shots of New York street life to celebrity snapshots.

If you’re looking for more movies about Weegee, Joe Pesci played a fictionalized version of him in The Public Eye. 

RED MIDNIGHT (1966) **

A man has an accident while waterskiing.  A doctor on a passing boat tries to be a Good Samaritan and helps him, little realizing he’s a foreign agent plotting to detonate a nuke on American soil.  The man’s co-conspirators kidnap the doctor who convinces them a coordinated attack on the country’s fire departments, combined with mass arson would be a wiser strategy in the long run.  Really, he’s trying to string them along so he can find the nuke and disarm it. 

Red Midnight contains its share of moments.  I enjoyed the opening credits sequence where the titles appear as newspaper headlines that are slowly burned away, kind of like on Bonanza.  There’s also an icky part where the doctor is forced to perform an impromptu cancer surgery on his captor. 

The plan itself is pretty interesting.  Too bad you are forced to sit through long scenes of people explaining it all again and again.  After all that, once the “Red Midnight” attack finally occurs, it’s underwhelming.  It also suffers from too much stock footage of firefighters, out of focus shots, and scenes of random indeterminable objects in flames that are supposed to represent (I guess) burning buildings. (The sequence detailing the inevitable fallout runs way too long too.)  Then again, what do you expect from a low budget flick dealing with such large-scale destruction? 

You also have to deal with lots of dull narration, amateurish acting, awful ADR, and choppy editing (including several jump cuts).  The film is packed with padding too, although some of the filler is kind of fun.  I’m thinking specifically of the perplexing side jaunt to a night club where characters inexplicably hop on stage and break out into song and dance numbers.  I mean, performing cheeseball music acts in a chintzy night club isn’t the kind of behavior you want to engage in while you’re secretly plotting terrorism on a massive scale.  (Granted, it’s against your will but still.)  The scenes of sexy go-go dancers shaking their moneymakers helps somewhat too.  These moments don’t save the movie, but they do prevent Red Midnight from being a total bomb. 

I, A WOMAN (1966) ***

While waiting for a lover to drop by, Siv (Essy Persson) flashes back to a time when she was shy, innocent, but curious about sex.  The fact she had an uptight fiancé didn’t help much.  While working as a nurse, she catches the eye of an older, experienced, and married patient named Heinz (Preben Mahrt) who deflowers her and encourages her to explore her sexuality.  She soon breaks things off with her fiancé and moves to the big city where she finds more lovers to satisfy her needs. 

I, a Woman was one of the pioneering films in the first wave of Swedish sexploitation.  Directed by Mac (Around the World with Fanny Hill) Ahlberg, it contains a solid structure for this sort of thing.  The nudity is tastefully done too with Persson mostly being seen in the buff via her reflection in the mirror or through a lacy curtain.  Ahlberg does some stylish stuff along the way too, like superimposing a church choir over Essy’s first sexual experience as a way to contrast sexual and religious ecstasy.  I also enjoyed the ending, which stops short of making any moral judgments on Essy’s actions, but merely presents where they have led her. 

While Ahlberg shows restraint, it’s almost to a fault.  Since it was an early version of the genre, it was able to skate by at the time with artiness and tastefully done sensual scenes.  That’s a double-edged sword though because that also means being among the first of its kind, it unfortunately lacks a lot of the unbridled horniness and rampant T & A that hallmarked later iterations of Swedish smut.  The trade off, and it’s an acceptable one, is that we learn what makes Persson’s character tick.  We understand her motivations and desires and because of that, it works as a fleshed-out character study, even if our character doesn’t show off a ton of flesh. 

Best line:  “You have erotic delusions of grandeur, my dear!”

Two sequels, both helmed by Ahlberg, followed. 

BUGONIA (2025) ****

Emma Stone and Yorgos Lanthimos reteamed for yet another modern classic.  I haven’t seen Kinds of Kindness yet, but with The Favourite, Poor Things, and now Bugonia, they have cemented their place among the greatest actor-director combos of the 21st century.  While I still think Poor Things is my favorite of the bunch, this is an awful close second. It’s an unpredictable, audacious, and outrageous jolt of cinematic insanity. 

Stone stars as a CEO who is targeted by a crazy beekeeper (Jesse Plemons) and his autistic cousin (Aidan Delbis) who kidnap her and lock her up in their basement.  Thinking she’s an alien, they shave off her head and cover her head to toe in lotion because… uh… reasons.  Then they demand to be taken to her mothership.  It doesn’t take long for Emma to realize she’s in deep shit as she must try to figure a way to outwit her captors. 

Part of the fun of Bugonia is the way Lanthimos slowly reveals just how nuts Plemons is.  Plemons is excellent as he plays his character as a sad and broken man, but he’s often hilarious and proves once again that he has some terrific comic timing.  (Although anyone who saw Game Night could’ve already told you that.)  Delbis is also ten pounds of hilarity in a five-pound bag as his reactions to the insanity around him (which are often only a word or two) gets some of the biggest laughs of the movie. 

Bugonia belongs to Stone though.  She once again proves to be one of the most fearless actresses of her generation.  She gives a command performance and the way she refuses to back down to her captors will have you cheering.  Even when the movie Goes There®, she continues to kick all kinds of thespian ass.  The totally bonkers ending will leave you shaking your head and doubting your sanity. 

In short, this is a special movie.  Probably the best of the year.  I’ve got to get on Kinds of Kindness ASAP. 

THE LOVERS’ GUIDE (1991) *** ½

This documentary, the first in a popular series, originally aired on British television.  It showed a surprising amount of sex and nudity, including some hardcore action.  Thanks to the clinical and “informative” nature of the special, they were able to escape the scissors of the censors.  In that respect, it kind of reminded me of those old nudist camp movies where everyone stands around playing volleyball naked because, you see… it’s a “documentary”.  I mean, no one in their right mind would watch a documentary just to see a lot of T & A.  Right?

After a brief segment on courtship, we go right into the bedroom.  (Or the bathtub as the case may be.)  There are informative sequences on Arousal (masturbation), Sensual Massage, Fantasies, Oral Sex, and Sexual Positions.  Since it’s essentially made for couples, there’s also a bunch of stuff about keeping things new, exciting, and stimulating for each partner. 

The dry narration about coupling and mating habits straddles the line between educational and cheeky (in a manner of speaking).  Classic words of wisdom like “Get to know your genitals… both aroused and unaroused!” make for some good laughs.  (My favorite bit of narration was when they referred to a guy who ejaculates prematurely as a “Trigger-happy man”.)  Speaking of laughs, wait to you see the part where the actress has to explore the “Male G-Spot”!

This might be a documentary and all, but the camerawork and lighting scream Skinamax.  It takes a while before we get to them, but the surprisingly graphic scenes of women playing with themselves is where the fun really begins.  The only downside to that is that out of the interest of fairness, that also means we are subjected to shots of dudes with rock hard dicks yanking their cranks.  Once we move into the sexual arena, things get XXX graphic.  While the film strives to be clinical, it still manages to be kinda hot. 

So, in the end, The Lovers’ Guide accomplishes two things simultaneously.  It manages to be the manual for lovemaking it was advertised to be, while also containing enough spank material for single viewers.  Because of that, I’d say it deserves high marks. 

LAST OF THE AMERICAN HOBOES (1970) ** ½

Ray Dennis Steckler regular Titus Moody directed this “semi-documentary” about hoboes.  You really don’t hear about hoboes anymore, and I guess they were slowly fading away at the time, which is probably why Moody made the movie.  Inspired by hearing his grandfather’s tales of hobo life, Moody decides to go undercover as a hobo for himself (wearing a ridiculously fake looking beard).  Moody mixes in real documentary footage of soup kitchens, hoboes who still ride the rails, and interviews with skid row inhabitants along with staged sequences of hobo stories.  We also learn how to read hobo messages and even meet a rare “Woman ‘Bo”.  His journey culminates with a hobo convention that features music, parades, and the crowning of the King and Queen Hobo. 

Even though there is a note at the beginning stating that some of the dialogue had to be redubbed, I have to say it’s pretty poorly done.  However, what the film lacks in technical proficiency it makes up for with sheer earnestness.  It’s meant as a tribute to men who were lost in their own generation, and in that respect, Moody accomplished what he set out to do. 

The scenes with real hoboes trying to get by are interesting.  The staged segments are the weakest parts though.  I’m sure Moody stretched his budget thin with all the period settings and recreations of true hobo accounts.  It’s just that these scenes have a tendency to drag (especially the long segment devoted to the “Hobo Kings”). 

Last of the American Hoboes is an uneven, but fascinating curiosity item to be sure.  Previously thought lost, it was revived by Vinegar Syndrome who released it as part of their Lost Picture Show Blu-Ray box set.  A soundtrack album featuring such bangers as “Christmas in Hoboville” and “There’s No Depression in Heaven” was available at one time.  Do you have your copy?

AKA:  The Last American Hobo.

THE VELVET TRAP (1966) ***

Julie (Jamie Karson) is a truck stop waitress who is raped by her sleazy alcoholic boss.  She then runs off and marries her photographer boyfriend Brad (Alan Jeffory) in Vegas.  When his model is a no-show for his new photoshoot, he asks Julie to pose for him ON THEIR WEDDING DAY!  But it gets worse for poor Julie.  The no-good lout runs off on her the very next day!  Stranded in Vegas, she tries to get a job as a showgirl but is accosted on the casting couch before getting Shanghaied into a life of prostitution. 

And I thought my week was bad. 

The Velvet Trap isn’t as tawdry as some of the sexploitation dramas from the era, but the fine location work makes it a cool little time capsule of Las Vegas in the mid ‘60s.  Scenes take place at the old McCarran Airport, the Stardust pool, and there’s a montage set on Fremont Street.  If you’ve watched so many of these things that take place in crummy New York apartments, the Vegas scenery will offer a nice change of pace. 

Although the skin quotient is kind of low for this sort of thing, The Velvet Trap is nevertheless engrossing, if only to see what predicament our poor heroine will find herself in next.  Try to keep track of all the times she goes out of the frying pan and into the fire.  It’s enough to make your head spin.  It all culminates in one of the bleakest and most depressing endings I’ve seen in a long time.  That’s saying something. 

Karson is very good as she tries her damnedest to stand up to her tormentors but just can’t seem to ever catch a break.  She only appeared in one other film, which is unfortunate.  Based on her work here, she could’ve gone places. 

CHUCK’S CHOICE CUTS (1982) ****

I was thumbing through The Psychotronic Video Guide the other day when I stumbled upon an entry for this compilation.  I had never heard of it, but it sounded intriguing.  I checked the internet, and luckily for me, it was on YouTube.  If you’re like me and you love compilations and clip show packages, check it out.  It’s awesome! 

Chuck (Chas Lawther) is a public access TV show host in Canada who is hanging out in the studio with his cameraman buddy Ryerson.  He rummages through his collection of old cool videotapes and plays them for the audience.  This is the kind of awesome television you used to see in the ‘80s. 

The clips are mostly pop culture ephemera that have been expertly curated by Chuck.  There’s rare music (like The Flamingos doing a rock number and a couple of old full-color Scopitones, which were kind of like the ‘60s predecessor to music videos), cartoons (Betty Boop and Superman), trailers (Monterey Pop, Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, and Calypso Heat Wave), a chapter from a Zorro serial where the masked hero goes up against a badass gold Aztec robot, classic Hollywood bloopers (most of which just feature Ronald Reagan saying “goddamn”), creepy ‘50s kids shows (it kind of looks like the Eisenhower era version of today’s brain rot), and an old PSA about syphilis.  Chuck also gives you tips to care for your tapes and how to clean your VCR heads. 

While Chuck’s Choice Cuts is nearly two hours long, it flies right by.  The scenes where visitors drop by the studio and chit-chat with Chuck are easily the weakest bits, but they don’t detract from the fun.  I mean where else are you going to see trailers for Gimme Shelter and Plan 9 from Outer Space in the same program?

All in all, this is an essential relic of the VHS era.

THE HOT PEARL SNATCH (1966) *** ½

A drunk stumbles into a bar showing off some precious pearls.  He brags to the guy next to him and makes the mistake of showing him a map to where he found them.  The dude naturally steals the map, but as it turns out, he has a bad heart, so he can’t dive underwater.  He then hooks up with a desperate woman to find the pearls, but she is predictably out for herself. 

This sounds like a decent plot to a movie.  Heck, it even sounds like an actual movie.  However, The Hot Pearl Snatch is anything but.  I mean, it’s technically a movie as it shot on film, has actors, and is in focus (most of the time).  This is a film that blurs the lines between “good” and “bad” and “art” and “crap” as it is as confounding, confusing, and perplexing a nudie as you’re likely ever to see.  It is so inept that it manages to be enormously entertaining.  It features dubbing that makes a Doris Wishman film look technically proficient, and there are long stretches where the sound drops out entirely.  The editing is atrocious too as there are jump cuts in nearly every other scene or moments where scenes end abruptly for no reason whatsoever. 

The highlight is the mind-boggling scene where a lesbian painter forces herself on her sexy model.  The fact that the actresses keep giggling and wantoning kiss while acting (poorly) like they are fighting one another on a ratty pull-out sofa bed adds to the overall bizarreness.  Oh, and once the model is seemingly okay with everything, she consents to body painting!

But wait, there’s more.  This movie also contains gratuitous Mardi Gras footage, topless dancing, topless native dancing, topless phone calls, random bondage scenes, interracial lesbians, and the shortest doctor’s appointment in screen history.  It really is an action-packed way to spend fifty minutes.

If you can find The Hot Pearl Snatch, snatch it up!

THE NUN AND THE DEVIL (1973) **

When the Mother Superior of a convent dies, various nuns vie to succeed her, including the crafty Mother Giulia (Anne Heywood).  In the midst of the drama, Giulia’s wild niece (Ornella Muti from Flash Gordon) comes to stay at the convent.  Naturally, she wants to run off and be with her boyfriend, not realizing Giulia has plans to pawn her off on a rich nobleman in exchange for her new role as head penguin.  Meanwhile, a church official (Torso’s Luc Merenda) arrives on the scene hoping to weed out the corrupt Giulia. 

The Nun and the Devil is a bit more plot heavy than your typical Nunsploitation fare.  The early scenes of the power struggle within the convent and the hypocrisy and corruption in the church is a bit on the bland side.  Yes, Heywood’s character is devious and shrewd as far as real nuns go, but she’s small potatoes compared to other nuns in these kinds of films.  She’s more of a plotting and scheming nun than the sexy and naughty ones I prefer. 

There is some sex, nudity, and torture here, but honestly, not as much as I was expecting/hoping for.  The moments that flirt with sleazy Nunsploitation territory (like the part where Heywood has to do a virgin check on Muti before she can enter the convent) have potential.  It’s just that the filmmakers never quite lean into the tawdrier aspects of the story. 

When it comes time for the inquisition scenes, they are surprisingly decent and easily the best thing in the movie.  The most memorable part has an inquisitor lowering a straddling nun onto a sharpened V.  Still, it’s a long time coming, and it ultimately lacks the punch of say… Mark of the Devil or something. 

Being a fan of Muti and Nunsploitation in general, The Nun and the Devil was worth a look just to see her in a nun’s habit.  As far as genre efforts go, it was a rather middle of the road entry.  There are some scenes that will placate devotees of the genre, just not enough to make it an essential watch. 

AKA:  Innocents from Hell.  AKA:  Sisters of Satan.  AKA:  The Nuns of Saint Archangel.  

ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER (2025) ****

Paul Thomas Anderson is one of my favorite filmmakers working today and One Battle After Another is proof that he makes one winner after another. 

Leonardo DiCaprio stars as a burned-out revolutionary trying to raise his teenage daughter (Chase Infiniti) all the while staying under the radar of the Man who still wants him incarcerated for all the chaos he caused back in the day.  A sadistic colonel (Sean Penn), who has a vested interest in putting Leo away, comes after his daughter.  It’s then up to Leo to save her. 

Somewhat inspired by Thomas Pynchon’s “Vineland”, One Battle After Another is a fast, fun, and funny thrill ride.  It has a lot to say about the current state of our country, but it does so in parentheses, as the heart of the film is always the relationship between Leo and his daughter.  Yes, Anderson is making sharp commentary on the sides of the action, and yet it’s never at the expense of the drama. 

We always knew he could do movies about strained relationships between fathers and their kids, but with this film, Anderson proves he can do action too.  He does an especially fine job with the final car chase, which is really saying something since the chase occurs on a straight stretch of road unobstructed by other vehicles. 

Leo gives one of his best performances here.  One of the fun aspects of revolutionary movies are the scenes where the freedom fighters have to say a codeword to be recognized by their brothers in arms.  The scene where Leo calls into the freedom fighters’ headquarters and struggles in vain to remember the right codeword is freaking hilarious.  The part where he turns into a total Karen and asks to talk to the guy’s supervisor will have you in stitches.  Yes, that sort of power move even works on Antifa, apparently. 

The supporting performances are equally fine.  Penn makes for a disgusting villain and infiniti is also quite good as Leo’s daughter.  Benicio Del Toro puts in an amusing turn too as Infinit’s karate teacher who is also a part of the underground movement.

GOOD BOY (2025) **

A guy moves into his grandfather’s old house in the middle of the woods with his trusty dog by his side.  Almost immediately, the dog begins seeing ominous, human-shaped shadows lurking around the property.  It’s then up to the courageous canine to protect his master at all costs. 

Good Boy is basically a haunted house movie from the dog’s point of view.  It’s an intriguing concept, but one that has to thread a very thin needle.  If you lean too heavy in one direction it might wind up being like The Incredible Journey.  Go too far in the other direction and it could end up with Look Who’s Talking Now.  It’s a tricky balancing act to be sure.  However, the filmmakers are only intermittently successful at executing their admittedly high concept idea.  

The way director Ben Leonberg puts the humans in the background, makes them out of focus, or keeps their heads out of frame is reminiscent of how Spielberg filmed the adults in E.T.  It’s also similar in some ways to Steven Soderbergh’s Presence, which was a ghost story but seen through the eyes of the ghost.  Because of the dog’s acute senses, he can hear and see things his human master can’t.  (Conversely, we are privy to information the dog doesn’t have, like text messages.)  It’s all clever enough to work, but not quite smart enough to make it a classic or anything. 

Leonberg does everything he can to squeeze every last drop from the slim scenario.  Even at a relatively scant seventy-three minutes it still feels padded, especially when the dog starts having nightmare scenes.  I mean one doggy dream would’ve sufficed, but we’re talking multiple dreams here.  It probably would’ve worked better as a short, although I can’t quite fault everyone involved for trying to milk a feature length movie out of it. 

It does have at least one effective jump scare, but it basically falls apart in the third act.  The non-existent finale is especially weak.  Had there been a bit more action (or chills) in the home stretch, it might’ve skated by with ** ½.  Still, it has its moments.

In short, Good Boy isn’t a complete dog. 

THE NOTORIOUS DAUGHTER OF FANNY HILL (1966) ***

If you loved her in A Smell of Honey, a Swallow of Brine, you owe it to yourself to check out Stacey Walker in The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill.  Whereas Honey was a down and dirty, black and white New York roughie, this is a classy, respectable (and at times a bit too respectable) costume drama nudie in full color.  This just shows her incredible range.  It’s a shame she only made two features because she was an amazing beauty with considerable screen presence. 

I’ve long held the opinion that the true test of an actress’s screen sexuality is her ability to pull off a reverse striptease.  That is to say, is she just as sexy putting her clothes on as she is taking them off?  Walker answers that query in the very first scene as she wakes up, gets out of bed, and puts on her nylons.  All I can say is… Yowza!

Walker is Kissey, who works in a high-class brothel that caters to noblemen.  The film is essentially comprised of her various dalliances with her clientele.  There’s one scene where Walker nibbles seductively on carrots and bananas, and all I can say is if that doesn’t get your blood pumping, you might have to check for a pulse.  One of Kissey’s clients is none other than the Marquis de Sade himself who amusingly turns out to be a whimpering masochist.  Seeing Walker play dominatrix is one of the many joys of the film. 

After about a half-hour or so of Walker’s rampant sensuality, I was ready to label The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill a bona fide classic.  However, the third act pales in comparison with the rest of the film.  Once we get to meet the other ladies of the night who inhabit the brothel, the movie begins to lose some of its luster.  It also doesn’t help matters that Walker becomes more of a spectator of the action than a participant during this stretch of the proceedings.  Things finish strong with Walker having a sexy bubble bath, even if the tragic ending is out of step with the rest of the picture. 

Neither The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill nor A Smell of Honey, A Swallow of Brine are perfect.  Since they are the only two films Walker starred in, they deserve their rightful place in sexploitation history.  Watching these two films you can only imagine the career she could’ve had if she stuck with acting.  Come back Stacey, we miss you. 

THE PRINCESS AND THE MAGIC FROG (1965) *

A little boy gets lost in the woods on St. Patrick’s Day and stumbles upon a leprechaun that has gotten his beard stuck in a log.  He agrees to help him out of his predicament in exchange for his bag of magic gold coins.  The coins can be used to make wishes, but the catch is the wishes must help other people and not the person doing the wishing.  Luckily for him, the woods is crawling with assorted oddballs (knights, Gypsies, puppeteers, etc.) and even inanimate objects (a talking signpost) that need the kid’s help.  Oh, and there’s also an evil wizard running around the forest because… of course there is. 

The Princess and the Magic Frog is interesting in that the princess only appears for like two minutes and there isn’t a magic frog to be had.  (There is a toad however, but it’s really just the knight who was transformed by the wizard.)  My favorite part takes place in a desert where the kid and the knight meet a genie, and the boom mike is visible throughout the entire scene.  Now that I think about it, the boom mike gets more screen time than the princess… or the frog… er… toad.  Go figure. 

I’ve seen some bad kids’ movies in my day and that certainly describes The Princess and the Magic Frog.  It features some lame costumes, dumb characters, and puzzling logic (or lack thereof).  Like most low budget WTF kiddie matinee fodder, it does have some bizarre moments, albeit not nearly enough to make it worth watching. 

The most memorable scene centers around the puppeteer.  When he laments his hands are too old to control the puppets, the kid wishes to make them come alive.  You’ll instantly regret his decision, especially when the puppets in blackface start dancing about.  Then there’s the creepy bit when some dancing girl puppets that look like they came out of the Follies Bergere show up and flash the audience with their can-can dancing.  This scene will definitely raise an eyebrow or two, but there’s just too much boring shit with the kid and the dumb knight traipsing through the forest to hold your interest.  The seventy-eight-minute running time drags like a son of a bitch too. 

AKA:  At the End of the Rainbow.