BLOOD AND FLESH: THE REEL LIFE AND GHASTLY DEATH OF AL ADAMSON (2019) *** ½

What better way to wash down thirty-two Al Adamson movies than with David Gregory’s documentary on the man, the myth, the legend that is Al Adamson?  Fans of the schlock director will already be familiar with some of the wild yarns that are spun about him, but it’s great to see so many of his cast and crew together in one place and dragging out the well-worn chestnuts yet again.  Find out how he broke into the business, made and remade (and remade) a flimsy crime thriller so it could eventually be resold as a horror movie, worked with up-and-coming cinematographers, worked with down-and-out actors, and even convinced Colonel Sanders to star in one of his movies. 

Guys like Sam Sherman are a wealth of knowledge not only about movies, but the business itself.  He had more than just a business partnership with Al, they were the best of friends.  His stories and memories are among the best in the whole movie.  We also get some great and insightful footage of Al himself from his last known interview.  He knew he wasn’t Hitchcock or anything, but he was damned proud of his work, especially given the time and budget constraints he was shooting under. 

In the last half-hour, the film goes from being a celebration of the man to a sort of true crime show as the details of his final days are chronicled.  Many state the fine points of his gruesome murder could make for its own horror movie, but I think that’s a little crass.  What happed to him was just plain terrible and sad.  Luckily for Al and his family, justice was served.

Throughout the documentary, it’s nice to see guys like Chris Poggiali and David Konow, who have encyclopedic knowledge of all things Adamson, being interviewed.  Speaking of encyclopedias, I can’t tell you how good it was to see The Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film’s Michael J. Weldon being interviewed about Adamson.  Weldon is the number one reason why I do what I do.  I was lucky enough to be invited to lunch with him back in ’02 when I visited his store in Chincoteague, Virginia, and I have never forgotten his kindness and support.  I couldn’t think of a better note to end my two-month journey into the world of Al Adamson on than seeing him speaking about Adamson in such a scholarly manner. 

LOST (1983) * ½

 

After a lengthy career spanning three decades and over thirty movies, Al Adamson’s final film proved to be 1983’s Lost.  Like the one that came before it, Carnival Magic, it’s made for children, but it’s sorely lacking the weirdness that made that picture memorable.  It’s much closer to an After School Special than anything you’d normally associate with the guy who gave us Dracula vs. Frankenstein and Satan’s Sadists.

Ostensibly a comeback vehicle for ‘50s dream girl Sandra Dee, Lost tells the story of a little girl named Buddy (this is the second Adamson film in a row in which the lead girl is called “Buddy”), played by Sheila Newhouse, who is unhappy to be stuck in the middle of Utah with her mom (Dee) and new stepfather (Don Stewart, also the star of Carnival Magic).  Unable to find common ground with her and her stepfather, Buddy becomes increasingly rebellious.  When her pet donkey has to be put down, the distraught Buddy takes off into the wilderness with her pet dog, Skipper, and it doesn’t take long before they become… well… read the title. 

Lost isn’t the worst picture in the Adamson filmography.  It’s just his least essential.  (You could possibly make a case for dullest, but I think that goes to Five Bloody Graves.) The usual oddball touches that his fans love are nowhere to be found here as the whole thing looks like a '70s Made for TV Movie.  Technically, it’s much shoddier than Carnival Magic.  The cutting between day and night and sun and rain is often laughable.  Still, at least there’s only one plotline to follow and no annoying subplots to bog things down. 

As someone who has sat through all his films, it is fun seeing Adamson ripping off the latest trend.  In this case, it’s the resurgence of dog-related kids’ movies like Benji.  Lost also gets some mileage out of the supporting cast filled with familiar faces from television and westerns.  Gunsmoke’s Ken Curtis gets a fine monologue about the spirituality of farming that probably ranks as the single best acted scene in Adamson’s entire career.  Jack Elam on the other hand, will grate on your nerves as the old timer mountain man who helps Buddy on her quest.

Overall, Lost just ain’t my cup of tea.  It’s just hard to work up much enthusiasm over what is essentially a Benji rip-off, especially after sitting through two months chockfull of wild women, bloody brains, naughty nurses, and sexy stewardesses.  I wish Adamson’s career had ended on a higher note, but at least it’s not as out-and-out terrible as something like Five Bloody Graves or Blood of Ghastly Horror.

CARNIVAL MAGIC (1983) **

I reviewed Carnival Magic a while ago, but in the ensuing years, it has kind of become a staple in my household thanks to repeated viewings on Mystery Science Theater 3000.  It’s one of the best episodes of the show’s revival, and the film’s offbeat nature is a perfect fit for Jonah and the ‘bots’ riffing style.  Watching it for the first time in a long while un-riffed as part of the Al Adamson boxset, I still am of the same opinion I had when I first saw it. 

I don’t have any new revelations to share with you.  Seeing the film within its chronological context of Adamson’s body of work, I find it interesting that his final two movies (his next being Lost) are children’s fare.  I don’t see this so much as Adamson branching out and trying something new, rather just hitting on a craze he had previously untapped early in his career. 

Speaking of untapped, it’s nice to see Adamson’s wife, Regina Carrol in a decently sized role as Markov the Magnificent’s assistant.  She gives a naturalistic performance that is easily one of the best things about the movie.  It’s a definite improvement on her grating performance in Blazing Stewardesses, that’s for sure.  

It’s always fun seeing what kind of trend Adamson would try to rip off.  Here, there’s a completely gratuitous scene where the talking chimp Alex steals a car and leads a bunch of dumb cops on a high-speed pursuit.  The country obviously still had Smokey and the Bandit on the brain, and leave it to Adamson to give moviegoers a twist on what was all the rage at the time.  I mean, we saw several car chases in Smokey’s wake, but have we seen one with a talking chimp?  I think not.

Unfortunately, the movie is too uneven to really work as either a children’s film or a WTF masterpiece.  The carny drama is rather flat, which makes the oddball elements sit uncomfortably with the rest of the picture.  The subplot with the evil doctor bent on dissecting the talking chimp feels really out of place in such a saccharine kiddie matinee show.  Also, the magic show scenes (many of which play out in real time) and long carnival montages bog things down considerably.  Despite these flaws, this is by far one of the most coherent works by Adamson, who was working with his highest budget to date.

Here’s my original review from a while back:

 

ARCHIVE REVIEW:  CARNIVAL MAGIC  (1983)  ** (ORIGINALLY POSTED:  MARCH 26^TH, 2011)

Markov the Magnificent is a carnival magician who has a talking chimpanzee named Alex.  He doesn’t like exploiting Alex but when the carnival is on the verge of closing, Markov agrees to put Alex in the show.  When Markov and Alex’s act becomes a big hit, it draws the attention of a scientist who wants to study the talking chimp.  Markov says no way Jose, but a disgruntled lion tamer decides to help the sketchy scientist kidnap poor Alex.  Markov then gets the help of his fellow carnies to rescue his simian buddy.

Carnival Magic is a bizarre kiddie movie directed by exploitation maverick Al (Dracula vs. Frankenstein) Adamson.  It’s heavily padded with lame magic acts and scenes of people on carnival rides and features some truly awful music.  It’s not very good and doesn’t quite work as camp but the flick is just so offbeat (and surprisingly earnest) to completely write it off.  And ironically, this is one of Adamson’s more coherent movies.

A lot of credit has to go to Alex the talking chimp.  It would’ve been easy to just dub in an obviously fake sounding voice like on Lancelot Link, but the throaty growl Alex speaks with sounds almost plausible.  Actually, when he talks he kinda sounds like E.T.  I have to think Spielberg saw this movie before he made E.T. because not only does the chimp sound like E.T., he also dies and miraculously comes back to life in the end.

I can’t say I really enjoyed Carnival Magic, but I’m glad I saw it.  Fans of Adamson’s work (or weird movies in general) will definitely want to check it out.  It beats going to a real carnival, that’s for sure.

DOCTOR DRACULA (1978) * ½

 

Note:  For whatever reason (probably rights issues), Doctor Dracula, Al Adamson’s cut-and-paste version of the hardcore flick Lucifer’s Women was not included in its entirety on Severin’s Blu-Ray boxset.  As with Bedroom Stewardesses, the scenes he shot, and only the scenes he shot, have been included as a bonus feature.  Seeing how I reviewed this not too long ago, the completist in me figured I would repost it here, if only for posterity’s sake:

ARCHIVE REVIEW:  DOCTOR DRACULA  (1978)  * ½ (ORIGINALLY POSTED:  FEBRUARY 26^TH, 2018)

Producer Sam Sherman got a hold of the softcore skin flick Lucifer’s Women and hired cult director Al Adamson to take all the sex out and put in a bunch of new scenes. The new scenes feature members of his usual stock players such as John Carradine and Regina Carrol.  Because of that, it’s a lot more tolerable than Lucifer’s Women, which was filled with a lot of bad acting.

The central premise of Lucifer’s Women is intact, but Adamson shoehorns a vampire subplot in there.  The narrative was already pretty jumbled to begin with.  The movie already has hypnotism, reincarnation, and Satanists in it.  It’s a small miracle that the new scenes are much more entertaining than the old footage.

If you’re a fan of Adamson, this should go down smooth enough.  I’ll admit, he’s not one of the most competent filmmakers out there, but he does a better-than-expected job at blending the new footage with the old.  It helps that they got Larry Hankin back for the new scenes, so the transitions between the old and new footage is hard to spot in some scenes.

Although most of the movie is bad, the scene where Dracula has sex in a coffin is kinkier and more inventive than anything in the X-Rated Lucifer’s Women.  Adamson also wisely dropped the Paul Thomas subplot, which allows the film to run much smoother.  You still have to sit through those long scenes from Lucifer’s Women though, and let me tell you, they’re twice as hard to get through the second time around.

It’s not all bad though.  I liked it when Carradine name-dropped Elvis in a list of Satanic messengers.  While the new stuff isn’t great, the scenes of Svengali holding seances and Dracula stalking his victims are more entertaining and atmospheric than the stuff the other director came up with.  However, the ending is really dumb and is about as stupid as anything found in Lucifer’s Women.  In fact, it was probably a Two Star movie until the shitty ending brought things to an abrupt halt.

AKA:  Lucifer’s Women.  AKA:  Svengali.

BEDROOM STEWARDESSES (1978) **

As with Nurses for Sale, Sam Sherman and Al Adamson took a Rolf Olsen/Curd Jurgens movie (in this case, The Doctor of St. Pauli), re-edited it, added new footage, and released it in America under a different title  Unfortunately, their version of the film did not end up on the Al Adamson boxset.  Instead, the Adamson-lensed additions were included as a bonus feature.  I was kind of disappointed by this, since the whole point of buying this boxset was to watch every single Al Adamson movie in existence.  

On the bright side, I found The Doctor of St. Pauli on YouTube and was able to do a double feature of that and the Adamson footage from Bedroom Stewardesses.  The Olsen movie is heavily mired with subplots, so I imagine Sherman and Adamson cut a bunch of stuff out to make room for their new scenes.  After seeing both Olsen’s film and Adamson’s additions, I can kind of piece together in my head what the finished product would look like without too much trouble.  (There are many characters who don’t appear on the 1978 version’s IMDb page, so it’s safe to assume they were left on the cutting room floor.) 

The original version is about a kindly doctor named Jan (Jurgens) who treats the poor and downtrodden.  Meanwhile his brother Klaus (Horst Naumann) is a rich, arrogant gynecologist who is up to his eyeballs in gambling debts.  A woman named Margot (Christiane Rucker) holds parties where women are drugged, forced into sex, and then blackmailed.  Among Margot’s blackmail victims is Klaus’ wife.  When he tries to retrieve the negative, a rash of problems, including everything from malpractice to murder occur.   

Adamson’s scenes (which amount to about eighteen minutes) revolve around a stewardess (Jackie Giroux) who is all excited about going to Europe and being invited to Margot’s party.  Once there, she meets a seemingly distinguished party guest (played by Adamson regular, Geoffrey Land) and they instantly hit it off.  Sadly, for her, he’s a perv who roofies her drink and takes advantage of her when she’s passed out. 

Presumably, we wouldn’t have seen her character again until the very end of the movie when she returns home.  It’s here where her roommate (played by another Adamson regular, Sherri Coyle) picks her up at the airport and asks her how everything went, and she essentially says, “Don’t ask”.  Well, if we’ve learned anything from Adamson’s ‘70s output, it’s that his films aren’t exactly woke.

The Doctor of St. Pauli has way too many characters and subplots that get in the way of the sleaze.  Seeing how Nurses for Sale was only sixty-six minutes (about ten or so of which was Adamson’s footage), I’m sure Adamson would’ve cut the film down considerably.  Since I don’t have access to the Adamson directed 1978 version of Bedroom Stewardesses, I can’t say for sure, but judging from all the footage available, I’d guess they kept all the sex party plotlines and cut out a lot of the subplot involving Jurgens’ brother. 

Either way, neither footage contains anything particularly explicit or hot, but there’s just enough of titillation to keep you watching.  We get a nude Bobby and Cissy routine, topless boating, and a funny scene where a topless combo plays in a nightclub.  However, whenever the depressing drama takes center stage away from the T & A, the doldrums set in almost immediately.

AKA:  The Doctor of St. Pauli.  AKA:  Orgy Blackmailer.  AKA:  Street of Sin.  AKA:  The Bedroom.

THE KILL FACTOR (1978) **

 

Death Dimension is yet another Al Adamson movie I watched and reviewed years ago.  As with I Spit on Your Corpse!, I saw it under a re-release title.  Because of that, I will be referring to it as The Kill Factor, the title I originally watched. 

This was the second film Adamson made with Jim Kelly.  It’s lacking the fun of their first collaboration, Black Samurai, but it definitely has its moments.  Whereas that film shamelessly ripped off James Bond, Adamson was actually able to get James Bond himself, George Lazenby in the movie.  Not only that, but we also have Harold “Odd Job” Sakata as well.

Oh, and remember when Kelly famously shared the screen with the one and only Bruce Lee in the immortal Enter the Dragon?  Well, this time out, he partners up with the one and only MYRON Bruce Lee.  Yes, there was only one Myron Bruce Lee, and when you watch The Kill Factor, you’ll know why. 

The plot, such as it is, revolves around Odd Job getting his hands on a freeze bomb.  When it ignites, a bunch of fake snow blows around and causes people to turn blue and freeze to death.  Naturally, it’s up to Kelly and Lee to stop him before he turns the world into a winter wonderland. 

Like Black Samurai, the film is a hodgepodge of James Bond and Kung Fu, but it’s nowhere near as successful.  Just to keep everyone on their toes though, Adamson will toss out a random Psycho-inspired shower scene or some completely gratuitous T & A.  The action sequences are better than you’d expect, but overall, the whole thing moves at a snail’s pace.

At first glance, the movie is low on the sleaze you’d expect from Al Adamson (and producer Dick Randall, for that matter).  However, if you are patient, you will be rewarded with a demented scene where Odd Job threatens to turn a snapping turtle loose on a woman’s tit.  This scene really cooks, but highlights these are unfortunately few and far between

Kelly does what he can, but he’s missing the charisma he brought to Black Samurai.  The supporting cast is solid though.  We get the vastly underrated Bob Minor as Odd Job’s ruthless henchmen, Aldo Ray (in his second Adamson movie) as Odd Job’s grouchy business partner, and Mighty Joe Young’s Terry Moore (who was the first woman I remember seeing naked in Playboy) as a madam.  While they don’t exactly save the movie, it’s nice to see them turning up.

Here’s my original review from over a decade ago: 

 

ARCHIVE REVIEW:  THE KILL FACTOR  (1978)  ** (ORIGINALLY POSTED:  MARCH 26^TH, 2010)

Director Al Adamson is not quite known for making good movies but on occasion, he’s been able to make a few so-bad-they’re-good movies (like Dracula vs. Frankenstein).  The Kill Factor isn’t one of those movies.  It’s actually Jim (Enter the Dragon) Kelly’s second Adamson flick.  It’s no Black Samurai, but then again, what could be, right?

Kelly plays a cop who is told by his captain (George Fucking Lazenby) to bring down Harold “Odd Job” Sakata.  You see, old Odd Job has created a “Freeze Bomb”, a bomb that uh… freezes people.  (So yeah, does this sound stupid enough for ya folks?)  Kelly teams up with a guy named Myron Bruce Lee (no, I am not making this up, his name is MYRON Bruce Lee) and they Kung Fu a lot of guys and stop Sakata.

The plot is ludicrous (a fucking FREEZE BOMB?), the acting is shitty (just watching Sakata try to string together several sentences in English is pretty painful), but the dialogue is priceless.  Kelly gets a mess of funny lines like “The name of the game is save your ass!” and “This is malt liquor; the black man’s beer!”, but my favorite exchange came when Sakata asked the scientist why he betrayed him.  The doctor replies, “A twinge of conscience”.  To which Sakata remarks, “An unfortunate twinge!”

Yes, a lot of this movie is bad, but it does have some jaw-dropping moments of pure unadulterated HUH?!?  Like the scene where Sakata threatens to chop a girl’s boobs off with a snapping turtle.  You don’t see that sort of weirdness in films nowadays, do you?

Look, I know I’m making The Kill Factor sound like it’s a straight-up laugh riot, but I didn’t really laugh much during it.  In fact, you’ll probably laugh more at my review than you will throughout the whole movie.  The thing that really prevents the film from busting loose and becoming a cult classic is that Adamson is almost borderline competent when it comes to handling the action.  He films the fight scenes flatly, yet the choreography isn’t too bad.  (The usually reliable stuntman/co-star Bob Minor was the stunt coordinator.)  There is even an expensive looking boat chase that sorta makes you yearn for the bargain basement aesthetic of Black Samurai.

And you have to kinda feel for Lazenby.  One decade you’re whispering to Diana Rigg that you have all the time in the world and the next you’re telling Jim Kelly about a Freeze Bomb.  While Roger Moore was off fighting Jaws, poor George was trading punches with Myron Bruce Lee.  Yeah, I know George shot his own career in the foot but he didn’t deserve this.  I mean MYRON BRUCE LEE?

AKA:  Death Dimension.  AKA:  Black Eliminator.  AKA:  Dead Dimension.  AKA:  Freeze Bomb.  AKA:  Icy Death.

SUNSET COVE (1978) ** ½

 

Sunset Cove was yet another for-hire gig for director Al Adamson.  This time, producer Tony (The Toolbox Murders) DiDio tasked him with creating a teen comedy done in the Crown International mold.  While I can’t call it one of Adamson’s best, fans of ‘70s nostalgia will enjoy it for the dated fashions, cheesy music, and forgotten trends. 

A nerd pulls a prank on the principal on the last day of school.  That gets him in good with the cool kids who let him cruise around with them in their van.  When they aren’t challenging the local motorhead to drag races along the Strip, they are busy evading the local fat cop who can’t wait to bust the freewheeling teenagers.  Their summer is potentially ruined when a real estate developer threatens to put up condominiums along the shoreline, and the teens must band together to save their beloved beach.

Sunset Cove presented Adamson another chance to collaborate with cinematographer Gary Graver, who once again delivers.  His crisp photography coupled with the excellent transfer makes this one of the best-looking films on the Al Adamson Blu-Ray boxset.  It also afforded him another opportunity to work with many players from Cinderella 2000, including Jay B. Larson, Erwin Fuller, Art Cacaro, and Sherri Coyle.  The rest of his stock cast is largely absent, save for John Carradine who pops up at the eleventh hour as a lawyer who agrees to help the teens.

Like most late ‘70s, pre-Porky’s teen sex comedies, the whole thing is good-natured and innocent, especially compared to the stuff that would be released the next decade.  It’s decidedly low-rent and no-frills, but it remains harmless, innocuous entertainment.  Adamson’s style is a good fit for the loosey-goosey plot.  In most of his films, the overreliance on subplots has a tendency to bog things down, but Sunset Cove’s rambling, episodic script allows him to pile on subplot after subplot without bringing the momentum to a complete halt.  The movie only threatens to spin out of control by the time the big protest/rock concert rolls around.  It’s here where things begin to peter out, but overall, it’s more consistent than many of Adamson’s films.

Adamson never met a trend he didn’t like.  He crams a lot of stuff that the teens of the day could relate to.  If you were young when the movie came out, you should have a fondness for all the detailed vans, Frisbee games, and hang-gliding sequences.  If that sort of thing isn’t your bag, you can always sit back and enjoy the copious amounts of T & A. 

AKA:  School’s Out at Sunset Cove.  AKA:  Teenager Report.

CINDERELLA 2000 (1977) * ½

 

Here’s another Al Adamson flick I already reviewed eons ago.  I think this one was a bit rougher on me than the first time I watched it.  (I had to tap out about halfway through and finish it the next day.)  As with all these critical reassessments, my original review can be found immediately following this new write-up:

Again, we see there is no trend that Al Adamson was not willing to ride.  Bill Osco’s XXX fairy tale musical Alice in Wonderland was a hit, so Adamson made his own singing storybook skin flick.  Flesh Gordon was also a big moneymaker at the time, so he added a sci-fi slant by adding a futuristic setting where sex is outlawed.  The two ideas never full gel, and the musical numbers are mostly a washout, but it has its moments. 

The biggest drawback is the length.  Did a forgettable, cheesy sci-fi fairy tale softcore musical really need to be 103 goddamned minutes?  Even if you pulled an I’ll Do Anything on it and cut out all the musical numbers, it probably still would’ve been too damned long.

Like most of Adamson’s work, he seems to be wedging two separate ideas or narratives into one movie in order to get the finished product to a certain running time.  The scenes of robots enforcing the futuristic “No Sex” laws probably work better than Cinderella shit, if we’re being honest.  I’m not saying we needed a softcore version of Brave New World or anything, but it is (marginally) more successful.

The music is also a big bust.  The only remotely memorable number is the one where the annoying robot sings a love song and then does a choreographed dance routine with a bunch of back-up dancers in futuristic garb.  Other than that, you could probably get up and make a sandwich, fold clothes, or take a shit while the songs are playing, and you wouldn’t miss much.

The best scene of the movie doesn’t even have anything to do with the rest of the plot.  Of course, I’m referring to the Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs gangbang.  Even then, Adamson kind of holds back, but when the rest of the film is so spotty, sloppy, and slipshod, I guess you can forgive it if this scene (no pun intended) comes up a little bit short.

 

ARCHIVE REVIEW:  CINDERELLA 2000  (1977)  * ½ (ORIGINALLY POSTED:  FEBRUARY 20^TH, 2008)

Al (Nurse Sherri) Adamson was responsible for this softcore sex/comedy/sci-fi/musical (very) loosely based on the timeless fairy tale. 

In the future, sex is forbidden.  (If you fuck, an annoying robot barges into your bedroom and shouts “Fornication!”)  Violators get bubble wrapped and turned into Barbie dolls. 

A cute girl named Cindy (Catherine Erhardt) is forced to be a slave for her overbearing stepmother and her two irritating stepsisters.  On a rare day off, Cindy heads out into the woods and sings a song wishing she was like Cinderella and wouldn’t ya know it, her “fairy” (get it?) godfather beams down to help her out.  He shows her what “love” is by turning two rabbits into people in bunny costumes who dry hump each other. 

Meanwhile Tom “Prince” (get it?) the most virile man in the galaxy wants to step down as the planetary stud, so the dictator decides to throw a masquerade “Ball” (get it?) for him to find a perfect mate.  Predictably, the fairy godfather makes Cindy look beautiful and after her and Tom fuck they bring sexual freedom to the galaxy. 

This movie is a fucking mess. 

Even though the movie is ostensibly a sci-fi sex version of Cinderella, the main thrust (no pun intended) of the story revolves around robots arresting people for having sex.  All the Cinderella stuff seems like a mere afterthought.  The idea of a sexy futuristic Cinderella isn’t necessarily a bad one, but Adamson handles most of Cindy’s scenes incompetently.  (Even by Adamson’s usually low standards.)  In fact, Cindy herself is largely absent for most of the movie.  The problem is that the scenes of sexual outlaws boning on Star Trek inspired sets getting interrupted by robots are a lot funnier than anything remotely associated with the more “traditional” fairy tale aspects of the movie.  I know this was made on the quick to cash in on the softcore hit Alice in Wonderland, but had Adamson dropped the whole storybook subplot and focused solely on the sex starved denizens of the future, this movie might have worked. 

There IS one priceless scene where Snow White gets gangbanged by the seven dwarfs (one of whom is Angelo Rossitto) but it has NOTHING to do with the rest of the movie.   

The musical numbers are surprisingly not bad and the swinging title theme is pretty great.  Erhardt is quite fetching in the title role, but unfortunately, she isn’t given a whole lot to do and her character is strangely MIA for most of the movie.  There’s lots of softcore '70s sex (including the obligatory lesbian scene) and what they lack in titillation, they make up for in sheer volume.  The “intentional” attempts at humor aren’t very funny, but some laughs can be had from the awful costumes and silly looking robots. 

The movie is a confounding as all get out and isn’t erotic in the least, but then again, if you ever wanted to see a robot sing a country and western song, this movie is for you.  

A wicked stepsister gets the best line when she says, “Christ, I gotta douche!” 

AKA:  Future Sex.

UNCLE TOM’S CABIN (1977) **

 

The evil, scar-faced slave owner Simon Legree (Herbert Lom) becomes indignant when a slave named Cassie (Olive Moorefield) does not welcome his advances.  He then gets revenge by buying her and a number of other slaves, including the wise old “Uncle” Tom (John Kitzmiller).  When Cassie refuses Simon’s affections, he begins to take out his frustration on the slaves.  Uncle Tom winds up in the crosshairs of his rage, and is gravely injured, which eventually sparks a slave uprising.

The bulk of Uncle Tom’s Cabin comes from a 1965 German-Italian production from director Geza von Radvanyi.  It was presented in America by exploitation legend Kroger Babb to little fanfare from the moviegoing public as the tumultuous ‘60s was not exactly an ideal time for an adaptation of the Harriet Beecher Stowe novel.  A decade or so later, it wound up on the desk of producer Sam Sherman at Independent-International.  Since Mandingo and Drum was still fresh on everyone’s minds, he had Al Adamson film add exploitation-minded scenes of sex and violence to make the rather dull plantation drama marketable. 

What’s interesting is that Adamson’s stuff is far and away the best thing about the movie.  The scenes of rape and revenge are more callus and cruel than the stuff found in the original version, but it’s also much more effective as it works on a baser level; one that film just didn’t even attempt to deliver on.  The subplot involving a love affair between a runaway slave (Prentiss Mouldon, who was also in Adamson’s Nurse Sherri) and a white woman (Mary Ann Jenson) who gives him shelter is surprisingly tender, and there’s a chemistry between the performers that is sorely lacking elsewhere in the picture. 

That’s not to say that the original scenes are all bad.  Herbert Lom’s performance as the despicable slave owner is magnetic enough to ensure your attention.  It’s just that the drama between him and Moorefield fails to ignite the screen the way the lovers in Adamson’s footage did.  It also doesn’t help that the old scenes are slow moving, laughably dubbed, and curiously uninvolving. 

Considering some of the patchwork jobs I’ve sat through in the past few weeks, I can safely say Adamson and company did a good job making his footage match the old.  While the appearances of his stock acting troupe is a dead giveaway, the overall effect is pretty seamless.  Sure, it may fall well short of the exploitative classic that is Mandingo, but I think Adamson’s scenes would’ve worked on their own merits as a short subject, without being beholden to the old movie. 

I’d like to add one thing that should be noted as I go through this boxset, and I think this review is the perfect place to do so seeing as the content of this movie will make many uncomfortable.  Due to constantly changing societal norms and values, many viewers will probably cringe their way through many of Adamson’s pictures (especially his ‘70s work).  Despite some of the decidedly un-P.C. stuff found in his films, Adamson employed a large number of POC actors and actresses, often time and time again.  I think that speaks volumes to who he was in real life.  I just wanted to add that to the record, just in case anyone wanted to “cancel” him based on this flick alone.

AKA:  White Trash Woman.

NURSE SHERRI (1978) ** ½

 

I previously reviewed Nurse Sherri on my old site back in 2008.  Of all the Al Adamson movies I’ve watched in the past two months, this and Blood of Ghastly Horror are the only two where I’ve felt compelled to increase my Star Rating.  I found myself enjoying this one enough to bump it up from ** to ** ½.  Who knows?  Maybe if I watch it in another twelve years I’ll go ahead and give it ***.  Here’s my brand-new review of the flick, followed by the old one:

The mixing of two totally different genres is a staple of Al Adamson’s work.  This one is a cross between a softcore Nurse nudie and possession horror, both of which were big in the mid-‘70s.  It often seems like two movies slapped together (which unlike most of Adamson’s films, this was an original work, and not another cut-and-paste-feature).  Despite the narrative whiplash involved, it winds up being kind of fun. 

Part of the amusement comes from seeing Adamson’s stock company appearing yet again.  Geoffrey Land plays the smug lothario doctor, Bill Roy plays a cult leader in his second Adamson movie in a row, and Marilyn Joi plays one of the sexy nurses.  The movie really belongs to Jill Jacobson though who plays the sexiest possessed nurse the ‘70s ever saw.

When a cult leader (Roy) dies on the operating table, his spirit possesses a nurse named Sherri (Jacobson) who happens to be in the operating room.  What follows feels like a mess of movies put into a blender.  We have horny nurses, cult leaders performing rituals, melodrama involving a blind football player (who naturally develops extrasensory gifts to discover something supernatural is afoot) finding love, a possessed woman talking like Linda Blair in The Exorcist, a revenge from beyond the grave subplot, and Scooby-Doo scenes of fraidy cat nurses sneaking into a graveyard after dark.  It has it all. 

I think I appreciated the sexploitation stuff more this time around.  There’s a random scene where Land and Jacobson flash back to their first times (he gets a blowjob while giving a presentation in class, while she has a poolside lesbian tryst).  There’s also a part where a nurse bangs a nervous patient who’s about to go in for surgery that feels like something out of a bedroom farce.  Even though these scenes are completely unnecessary, they add to the overall goofy charm of the movie.

This isn’t the first time I had to reassess the rating of one of Adamson’s movies as I have combed my way through this boxset.  Blood of Ghastly Horror improved an entire One Star.  I can’t be that generous with this one as it’s still as patchy as ever.  However, seeing the film within the context of Adamson’s other work, I can’t help but to give this an additional Half-Star at the very least.  It’s borderline schizophrenic, but it’s nutty as hell and it certainly isn’t boring.  That alone is worth an extra Half-Star in my book.

 

ARCHIVE REVIEW:  NURSE SHERRI  (1978)  **  (ORIGINALLY POSTED:  FEBRUARY, 5^TH, 2008)

A religious cult leader gets stabbed to death by a bunch of greedy doctors on the operating table.  His soul takes the form of lemon and lime colored negative scratches that possess a cute nurse named Sherri (Jill Jacobson) while she sleeps.  In no time at all, Sherri starts talking in the cult leader’s voice and begins murdering the doctors responsible for his death.  First guy gets a pitchfork rammed through his back and out his stomach.  Next guy takes a trip to Screwdriver City.  Third guy falls into a pit of molten steel.  Then Sherri has a meat cleaver meltdown on the last guy.  In the end, Sherri’s candy striping co-workers help break the spirit’s evil spell by turning the cult leader’s gravesite into an open B-B-Q pit. 

I guess this was an interesting albeit awkward attempt to blend the low rent thrills of your basic Exorcist rip-off with the titillation of Roger Corman’s sexy “Nurse” movies.  It doesn’t quite work, but then again, I’m a sucker for any movie in which nurses showcase their bedside manner by getting it on with their patients. 

The flick was directed by Al Adamson, and like any Adamson movie, there’s going to more than its share of filler.  There’s a car chase that serves no purpose whatsoever and whole sections of the film don’t make a heck of a lot of sense.  Like the scene where the spirit of the cult leader appears on a victim’s dashboard and forces him to drive off a cliff.  I mean hello, I thought the “spirit” was supposedly in Sherri’s body, so what the heck is it doing in the guy’s car?  (I will refrain from making an obvious “repossessing the car” joke.)  This scene also features a hilarious continuity error as the car goes over a cliff in the daytime, but it blows up at the bottom of the canyon at night. 

Like most of Adamson’s oeuvre, Nurse Sherri is sloppy, disjointed, and erratically paced, but that doesn’t necessarily make it unwatchable.  The film’s chief asset (besides a few hints of T & A) is a fine performance by Jacobson.  She’s pretty good, but for a movie called Nurse Sherri, she’s not in it as much as you’d think.  Jacobson doesn’t get an opportunity to really strut her stuff because there are way too many extraneous characters and subplots (like the blind football player who falls in love with a black nurse) that get in the way. 

The flick is chockfull of bad dialogue, which adds to the fun.  Some of my favorites include “Your powers are finite.  Mine are limitless!”, “I’ll introduce you to the bliss that lies on the border to Hell!”, and “One ingrown toenail and it’s the big casino!” 

AKA:  Beyond the Living.  AKA:  Black Voodoo.  AKA:  Hands of Death.  AKA:  Hospital of Terror.  AKA:  Killer’s Curse.  AKA:  Terror Hospital.  AKA:  The Possession of Nurse Sherri.

BLACK SAMURAI (1976) ***

 

I bought this on VHS for $5 at Roses in the late ‘90s during the Blaxploitation resurgence that occurred shortly after Pam Grier starred in Jackie Brown.  I’m not sure if it was my first Al Adamson movie or not (I also picked up Dracula vs. Frankenstein in a giant clamshell box around this time), but it certainly got me hooked on his films.  It’s cheap and chintzy, but the badass performance by Jim Kelly gives it an unmistakable sense of cool. 

Based on the series of Black Samurai men’s adventure novels, Kelly stars as an agent of D.R.A.G.O.N.  He is a master of the martial arts who lives by the samurai code.  When his girlfriend is kidnapped by a villainous cult leader, Kelly springs into action to get her back. 

Black Samurai finds Adamson working away from Sam Sherman and his usual Independent-International team.  Even though the film was essentially a for-hire gig, it very much feels like an Adamson picture.  I’m sure he was hired for his spendthrift ways, which helps give some of the action sequences a bigger (but not much) feel (like when Kelly drives a car loaded with gadgets, just like James Bond).

The cool Bond-style opening credits scene coupled with a funky theme song sets the tone nicely.  We also get a great scene where a shotgun-toting, poorly dubbed Felix Silla interrupts Kelly during his meditation.  (There are several fights involving dwarves and little people, actually.)

Although it’s a little more respectable than your typical Adamson production, we still get scenes of strippers shaking their goodies for all to see.  Adamson handles the action better than you’d expect too as Kelly’s Kung Fu scenes are solidly entertaining.  The best part is when he gets to bust out a jetpack.  Yes, it’s yet another Bond reference, but unlike 007, Kelly actually gets to use it for a lengthy amount of time. 

Kelly, who really should’ve been a bigger star, looks relaxed and confident, and he carries the movie effortlessly.  His performance alone should’ve warranted a slew of sequels, which we unfortunately did not get.  He has a lot of chemistry with Adamson regular Marilyn Joi, who plays the villain’s sexy right-hand woman, Synne. My favorite exchange is when she calls him, “my white knight!”, and he responds, “I’m never the white knight, baby!”

For a low budget Blaxploitation James Bond/Enter the Dragon knockoff, Black Samurai is hard to beat.  The budget can’t quite keep up with its comic book sensibilities, but that’s kind of the charm.  While it may drag in spots, once it starts cooking, it’s a damn good time.  It’s proof that Adamson, given a good cast and a decent script, could churn out a winner.

AKA:  Black Terminator. 

NURSES FOR SALE (1976) **

 

An epidemic breaks out in a third world country, and freshly inoculated American nurses are sent to administer a vaccine.  A corrupt police official mistakes the vaccine for heroin and steals the shipment.  He places the blame on a crusty sea captain, played by Curd (The Spy Who Loved Me) Jurgens and throws him in jail.  Jurgens eventually escapes and comes to the aid of the nurses, who have been captured by revolutionaries.

Nurses for Sale came about when producer Sam Sherman acquired a German movie he couldn’t do a whole lot with.  Seeing that Roger Corman was making a mint with his sexy Nurses series, he had Al Adamson add some spicy footage of horny nurses.

Adamson’s work on the film amounts to about ten minutes of screen time.  His major contribution was the pre-opening title sequence in which two sexy nurses engage in a three-way with their stud lover.  Whereas Adamson’s previous patchwork features had some semblance of cohesion, it’s pretty apparent that this beginning has been crassly tacked on as it really doesn’t match the rest of the movie.  The lighting is poor, the acting is bad, and the whole scene feels like a crummy stag reel that’s somehow managed to play as a short subject before the main attraction.  The girls briefly show up later as prisoners in the revolutionaries’ camp for a bit of lesbian lovemaking.  There’s also a forced blowjob scene that’s awkwardly cut in with the prison break sequence, but overall, these extra snippets don’t add much to the picture. 

The rest of the movie (directed by Rolf Olsen) is OK.  About halfway through, the film takes a detour into the jungle.  Because of the grimy cinematography and the jungle setting, it’s easy to see how drive-in patrons would mistake this for one of Corman’s lensed-in-the-Philippines actioners.  Unfortunately, the sleaze is limited to a scene of the nurses showering, a few tame sex scenes, and one gratuitous wardrobe change.  We also get a decent acid-to-the-face scene.  The comedy is lame too, and the dubbing is cheesy, but Jurgens makes it watchable.  (I liked the part where he butted heads with the dirty cop who tries to confiscate his shipment of alcohol.)

The good news is, it’s short.  At only 66 minutes, it’s by far the shortest film so far on the Al Adamson boxset.  (Although he was only responsible for about eight minutes worth of footage.)  Of course, it FEELS much longer than the running time suggests (the finale is especially protracted), but it’s far from the worst cut-and-paste flick featured on this set.

Two years later, Adamson and Sherman would take another Jurgens/Olsen collaboration, The Doctor of St. Pauli and repackage it as Bedroom Stewardesses.

AKA:  Captain Typhoon.  AKA:  Captain Roughneck from St. Pauli.

BLACK HEAT (1976) **

 

Kicks (Timothy Brown) and Tony (Geoffrey Land) are cops out to bust a hotel full of hookers.  The girls also help the sleazy kingpin Ziggy (Russ Tamblyn) pull off a series of heists.  After Ziggy kills Tony, he tricks his grieving girlfriend (Jana Bellan) into setting up his next score.  It’s then up to Kicks to get revenge and bring Ziggy down. 

You can say a lot of things about the quality of the movies Al Adamson and Sam Sherman made together, but you have to admire the ingenuity they had when it came to selling them.  Black Heat is an example where the genesis of the film is more interesting than the finished product.  They were looking to make a Blaxploitation actioner and a sexploitation potboiler, and figured why not just make two for the price of one?  They would create two different marketing campaigns under two different titles and film two different opening scenes (one that played up the gunrunning angle, the other featuring a bunch of scenes of the girls in the hotel getting naked, fucking, and showering) but keep the rest of the pictures the same.  They’d then play them in separate markets and the filmgoing public would be none the wiser. 

The film itself is serviceable at best.  Like most of Adamson’s work, the plot is a bit slipshod, with a few too many extraneous subplots that get in the way of the fun.  For example, the final junkyard confrontation between Brown and Tamblyn is well done, but unfortunately, the movie keeps going for another ten unnecessary minutes.  There is some trademark Adamson sleaze here (gang rape, forced lesbianism, a guy getting his legs ran over by a car, etc.), although not really enough to make it recommended.  Still, it’s not a bad Blaxploitation flick, all things considered.  (The score by Paul Lewinson is appropriately funky.)

The performances are what keep it afloat.  Brown is likeable as the suave badass cop Kicks.  He has an easy chemistry in the streets with Land and between the sheets with Tanya Boyd, who plays his reporter girlfriend.  Naturally, Adamson’s wife, Regina Carrol also turns up (as a nightclub singer), although she isn’t given a whole lot to do this time out.

AKA:  U.S. Vice.  AKA:  Syndicate Vice.  AKA:  The Murder Gang.  AKA:  Girls’ Hotel.  AKA:  Town Rats. 

BLAZING STEWARDESSES (1975) * ½

 

I already reviewed this a decade ago, but it never hurts to watch the movies on this Al Adamson boxset with a fresh set of eyes.  Adamson made a career out of slapping together two genres in order to reach a wider market.  Blood of Ghastly Horror was a mix of crime picture and horror movie.  The Dynamite Brothers was a hybrid of Blaxploitation and Kung Fu flick.  This is a blend of western and sexploitation.  As far as nudie westerns go, it’s got nothing on Herschell Gordon Lewis’ Linda and Abilene, THE definitive work of the genre, as far as I’m concerned. 

Connie Hoffman returns as sexy stewardess Debbie.  She returns home from a flight and finds her boyfriend in the sack with another woman.  She and her stewardess gal pals (Regina Carrol and Marilyn Joi) then take off for a vacation at a casino ranch owned by her old pal Brewster (Robert Livingston).  When a gang of modern-day rustlers try to put a stop to Brewster’s gambling joint, it’s up to a mysterious cowboy in a white hat (Geoffrey Land) to save the day.

The idea of cowgirl stewardesses could’ve worked, but there’s just too much filler.  It’s one thing to pad the movie with travelogue scenes of the stewardesses going to the zoo, shopping, watching parades, and attending rodeos.  I guess it makes sense as the film was still kind of aping the Stewardess Report template.  However, the straight western scenes are terrible, and all the comedy shit just plain doesn’t work at all.

The good news is, the sex scenes are decent.  Foot fetish fans will enjoy the toe-sucking rendition “This Little Piggy”, and the funny bit when a couple does it while standing on their heads.  Ultimately, there just aren’t enough of them to make it worthwhile. 

The cast aren’t much to write home about.  Yvonne DeCarlo (who sings!) plays the madam of a cathouse, but her role really could’ve been played by anyone.  While Hoffman was a lot of fun in the original, this time around, she seems like she really doesn’t want to be there.  Also, Joi, who was such a memorable presence in the first movie is pretty much wasted here.  Carrol on the other hand, gets way too much to do.  She completely overdoes the whole bimbo thing and her schtick becomes instantly annoying. 

Speaking of annoying schtick, seeing the Ritz Brothers (whose roles were originally intended for The Three Stooges!) still doing their antiquated pratfalls and facial contortions way past their prime is downright embarrassing.  Their impromptu dance number alone is enough to make you want to blow your brains out.  Originally a trio, only two of the Ritz Brothers, Harry and Jimmy, perform as Al passed away several years prior.  He was the lucky one.

Despite the fact his previous film, Jessi’s Girls was a decent enough western, Blazing Stewardesses shows that Adamson’s strength was more in the drive-in exploitation genre and not in westerns.  He isn’t particularly adept at comedy either (the stuff with the Ritz Brothers is painful), so whenever there aren’t any smokin’ stewardesses disrobing for the camera (which is about the majority of the second and third acts), it can be awfully rough going.  

Here’s my original review that ran on my old site on November 22^nd, 2010:

BLAZING STEWARDESSES  (1975)  * ½

Blazing Stewardesses is director Al Adamson’s pretty awful sequel to the pretty good The Naughty Stewardesses.  In this one, our swinging stewardesses head west to help an elderly cowhand revitalize his dude ranch.  Of all the places Adamson could’ve sent his sexy stews, he put them in a dumb western.  Why couldn’t we have gotten The Stewardesses in a Haunted House or The Stewardesses in Space or something along those lines?  But no, we’re stuck with this crap.

I will say one thing; the opening credits are kinda cool and look like something out of a B western from the 30’s.  After that though, the movie kinda falls apart.  To make matters worse, the sex scenes are few and far between.  There is however, one rather hot part where a chick plays an oral-centric version of “This Little Piggy”.  That’s about the only marginally sexy moment the movie has going for it.

Mostly though; it’s too much filler and not enough fucking.  This might be the first movie that’s all padding.  There are long parade sequences, rodeo scenes, and way too much godawful comic relief by the supremely annoying Ritz Brothers to make you think this could’ve ever been a good flick.  Speaking of annoying, Regina Carrol will grate on your nerves and totally overplays the whole bimbo thing.  Because she’s the director’s wife though, she gets a shit ton of screen time.

Bottom Line:  Ask your stewardess for extra pillows because you’ll be sleeping through this one.

AKA:  Cathouse Callgirls.  AKA:  Cathouse Cowgirls.  AKA:  Texas Layover.  AKA:  The Great Truck Robbery.  AKA:  The Jet Set.  AKA:  Up Like a Shot.

JESSI’S GIRLS (1975) ** ½

 

Jessi’s Girls is one of the more obscure titles on the Al Adamson boxset from Severin.  (Well, I had never heard of it.)  I had low expectations seeing as it was another western and Adamson’s last western, Five Bloody Graves was easily the worst film in the collection.  Turns out, it’s not too bad.  It’s competently put together, features some solid performances, and features just enough sleaze to appease to the drive-in crowd while simultaneously catering to western fans. 

Sondra (Policewomen) Currie stars as Jessi, a preacher’s wife who is traveling out west in a covered wagon with her husband Seth (Rigg Kennedy).  Notorious outlaw Frank Brock (Ben Frank from Death Wish 2) and his gang ambush the couple, tie up Seth, and take turns violently raping Jessi.  The hoodlums then shoot both husband and wife and leave them for dead.  Jessi miraculously survives, and with the help of a friendly old prospector (Rod Cameron) becomes a crack shot.  She sets out to get revenge on the men who raped her and ends up crossing paths with a trio of criminal women who aid her in her quest for vengeance. 

The opening is strong.  Adamson wastes no time getting to the sleaze with an extended gang rape scene.  From there, it becomes sort of a western version of I Spit on Your Grave (I Spit on Your Tombstone?), but with the addition of three fugitive women.  

Currie gives a fine performance as the vengeance-seeking cowgirl.  She gets naked a lot too, which helps bulk up the skin factor.  The other ladies in the cast are appealing too, even if they don’t get a whole lot to do.  (Save for Regina Carrol and Ellen Stern’s catfight).  Their characters never really get a chance to bond in a meaningful way either as they mostly feel like they’re just along for the ride.

The traditional western sequences look the part, even if they aren’t really all that involving.  The big problem is that revenge scenes lack the punch that the early attack scenes had.  Considering the Hell they put her through, you’d expect Currie to make her tormentors suffer, at least a little bit.  Instead, she merely hunts them down, flashes back to the men’s grimy faces, and then shoots them.  The lurid scenes of Currie and Carrol (who used a body double because after all, she’s the director’s wife) nursing wounded men back to health by banging them feel out of step with the serious tone, but again, it does up the skin factor. 

Also, you have to wonder if Rick Springfield saw this at the drive-in before writing “Jesse’s Girl”. 

AKA:  Jessi’s Gang.  AKA:  Jessi’s Gun.  AKA:  Wanted Women.

I SPIT ON YOUR CORPSE! (1974) ***

 

Note:  Although the title on the Blu-Ray is Girls for Rent, the version I originally saw (on Beta, no less) back in the early ‘00s was called I Spit on Your Corpse!  Because that’s the version I’m most familiar with, that’s the title I will refer to it as.  Of course, the retitling was meant to cash in on the infamous cult classic, I Spit on Your Grave, but apart from a subplot about a slow-witted redneck rapist, it’s really nothing like that flick.  It is however a solid slice of drive-in moviemaking, and certainly one of director Al Adamson’s all-time best efforts. 

Moreno (frequent Adamson star Kent Taylor) runs an organization that is kind of like an evil version of Charlie’s Angels.  One girl handles counterfeiting, another runs a call girl operation, one deals in stolen goods, etc.  He hires Sandra (Georgina Spelvin) as the team’s hit woman, and immediately gives her an assignment to take out a politician.  She doesn’t want to get her hands dirty, so she gets a call girl named Donna (Susan McIver) to unwillingly poison the perverted politico.  Once she realizes she’s killed a man, Donna hightails it out of there and heads for Mexico.  Moreno, nervous Donna will talk to the authorities, sends Sandra out in hot pursuit to silence her for good. 

While it never hits the zany heights of Adamson’s Dracula vs. Frankenstein, I Spit on Your Corpse! is his most consistently entertaining film.  It’s briskly paced, well-made, and looks great, thanks to Gary Graver’s excellent cinematography.  The score, which alternates from sounding like a Spaghetti Western to resembling a James Bond rip-off, is also very good.

Hot off the heels of her notoriety from The Devil in Miss Jones, Spelvin delivers a knockout performance.  Sporting a pixie hairdo and spouting her dialogue through a mischievous sneer, the tough-talking Spelvin kinda looks like a cross between Shirley MacLaine and Tura Satana.  The opening sequence, where Spelvin escapes from a prison roadwork crew, perfectly sets the tone for the movie.  Two female prisoners begin wrestling in the dirt to distract the guards before Spelvin conks them on the head and takes off into the desert.  My favorite moment though is when Spelvin seduces the slow-witted would-be rapist and blows his brains out just before he’s about to get his rocks off. 

We also get a great bit where Spelvin and her partner in crime, Rosalind Miles are hitchhiking, and roll a trio of drunks.  Spelvin lures them in by whipping out her tit (most people stick out their thumb while hitchhiking, but not Georgina), and it doesn’t take long for her and Miles to kick the shit out of some Good Ol’ Boys.  This sequence also features a brief smattering of topless kickboxing, and as far as I can tell, it is only the second instance of topless kickboxing in film history as it premiered just a few months after Cirio H. Santiago’s seminal T.N.T. Jackson. 

Although the film clips along at a steady pace for the first hour or so, it kind of fizzles out just before the finale.  The end chase through the desert is needlessly drawn out, almost as if Adamson was contractually obligated to reach a mandated ninety-minute runtime.  That blemish aside, there is enough skin and action throughout the movie to make it highly recommended for connoisseurs of sleazy drive-in fare. 

AKA:  Girls for Rent.  AKA:  Fatal Pursuit.  AKA:  A Life in the Balance.