Mike Vraney (1957-2014)

Mike Vraney, collector of weird movies, weird movie memorabilia, and founder of Something Weird video, succumbed to cancer on January 2.  He is survived by wife Lisa Petrucci and two children, Mark and Danielle.  Vraney was 56.

As a teenager, Vraney was exposed to exploitation and sexploitation films when he worked as a theater projectionist in Seattle.  According to Something Weird's press release, he became active in the local punk rock music scene, being instrumental in the founding of the local music venue The Showbox, and going on to manage bands such as the Dead Kennedys, TSOL, and Seattle's own The Accused.  He founded Something Weird in 1990 as an outlet for his burgeoning collection of penny-arcade nudie loops, prints of exploitation and sexploitation films, trailers, short subjects and film ephemera.  First marketing his films on VHS with covers based on original one-sheets and lobby cards, he went on to the DVD medium in 1999 when he entered a production deal with Image Video.

His unique approach to marketing video began with his VHS releases, the two-hour length of which he would typically pad out with two features (which we commonly an hour or less), along with as many trailers, loops, odds and ends, and supplementary material as he could fit.  When he graduated to the DVD format, he could utilize the 220 minutes of a double-layered DVD to fit in even more of his seemingly endless collection of sleazy obscurities and bits and bobs.  His endless quest to seek out and preserve these forgotten and half-remembered slices of history led him to befriend and collaborate with a number of figures from the exploitation film scene, in particular David F. Friedman, who boosted Vraney's collection with films from his own vault and who also appeared on some 25 commentary tracks with Vraney, and who paid him the best compliment when he dubbed Vraney "the forty-first thief" (a reference to the exploiteers' reference to themselves as "The Forty Thieves"), in recognition of his love for these films and his efforts to preserve them.  He also got to know other exploitation and sexploitation filmmakers such as Joe Sarno, Doris Wishman and Herschel Gordon Lewis.

I own something like 25 or 30 DVD titles from Something Weird, and they occupy a place of honor in my home, not only because they are fun to watch and were great value for money, but also because they were put together with the right combination of love, humor, and respect.  When SWV was getting off the ground in the nineties, it was a hey-day of alternative music, art and publishing, of photocopied zines, alternative newsstand magazines, comics and cassette music releases and even radio, and the Something Weird DVD collection carried the DIY spirit from the analog realm into the digital.  Putting on a SWV DVD always manages to carry me back to that era of exploration and discovery.

Something Weird Video, in its announcement of Vraney's death, promises to carry on the mission further, and in addition to DVDs, the company also has an on-demand channel with Comcast and also some of its titles on Netflix.

For my part, I still intend to continue writing this blog, although I am also devoting considerable time to my sister blog, on atheism, on Wordpress.  Again, the best way to keep abreast of my blogging is probably to use a blog aggregator, as I don't finish things quickly, though there are always works in progress.


This clip has opened SWV's video releases from the analog into the digital era and puts the weirdness, wildness, and coolness of the films (and Vraney's approach to them) into a two-minute nutshell.

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The Olga Series (1964)

Audrey Campbell began in theater, music theater, and television in her home town of Cincinatti, but by the early sixties she had moved to New York, where she supplemented her acting career with modeling and moonlighting in exploitation films, and in 1964 she made her mark in the annals of sexploitation cinema by being that rare thing in the genre, a memorable actress in a memorable role. Just as Tura Satana in Russ Meyer's Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill! became a cult icon because she was so right for her character, so Audrey Campbell in the role of Olga Saglo -- dope dealer, white slaver, lesbian, sadist, and all-around villainess -- became a cult idol for her performances in White Slaves of Chinatown, Olga's Girls and Olga's House of Shame, simply by being the perfect choice. These three films, made in quick succession, became perennial favorites in the Times Square grindhouses for years and acquired something of a legendary reputation. Campbell recalled later in life that she was frequently stopped on the street by fans from as far away as South America and Europe, and many of Olga's most ardent admirers were far from being the stereotypical raincoated grindhouse habitué; fans of Campbell and Olga include film critic Andrew Sarris, who stated that he thought Audrey Campbell one of the sexiest women in films, and filmmaker John Waters, who was once quoted as saying "I couldn't get over the title. I have to force myself every day not to think about Olga's House Of Shame." All going to show that filmgoers, even the denizens of Times Square fleapits, love a good baddie.

The Olga films were early examples of what came to be called "roughies" in the trade: nudie films well-spiced with violence, suggestive innuendo, and sleazy atmosphere, all done in a gritty black-and-white style that recalled poverty-row thrillers, B-movies, and stag films. I explained roughies in a previous post, but here's a recap: after about five years of "nudie-cuties" and their light, innocuous pin-up-style aesthetic, the roughies afforded a respite from the fluffiness and vapid premises of nudist camps, artists' and photographers' models, and improbable plot devices, while offering more interesting stories. Even if, as was usually the case, they showed no more skin than the cuties, they seemed "dirtier" because of their use of vice, crime, and illicit relationships as themes, painting fantasies familiar to a generation brought up on puritanical norms about sexuality (and of course their visual style). The Olga films added fetish and kink to the mix, but with a good measure of Hollywood conventions such as the charismatic villain and the damsel in distress. In best cliffhanger style, the films even ended with title cards warning the viewer not to miss "Olga's adventures" in the next installment.

In the Olga films, women are locked up in cages, tied up, tortured with exotic devices (most of which look knocked together from odds and ends from a hardware store, or repurposed from other uses -- the contents of Olga's toolchest rarely recall the wares of a fetish shop), take drugs, and do other things or have things done to them that don't sound very palatable to hear described. Seeing them on the screen is a different matter. It's worth noting here that the films have very few male characters (and with one exception we'll come to in a moment, most of them peripheral), hardly any sex (which in 1964 would have been represented on screen as partially-disrobed "making out") and no fighting with weapons (though there are some catfights for those in the audience who liked that sort of thing). These films weren't aiming for realism, but for an imaginative space for the playing out of fantasies, and the facts that the lash-marks are obviously painted on, that Olga puts her girls through their ordeals with such relish, and that the victims ham up their sufferings in best "will no one save me?" style served the purpose very well. The unrealistic treatment also refers to the long tradition of highly-coded, highly-sublimated and largely unconsciously-used sado-erotic imagery in popular narrative from penny-dreadfuls to monster movies (such as heroines being tied to railroad tracks or monsters carrying off the girl -- a metaphor for rape, basically, or the threat of it -- being a couple of examples).

White Slaves of Chinatown introduces Olga and her operation, as she gathers innocent young women and breaks them to her will in her dungeons, after which she turns them out to sell drugs and their favors. Between breaking in the new arrivals, punishing others for various infractions, and generally managing her business, Olga has meetings with her own bosses in a shadowy group called "the Syndicate" and occasionally relaxes with a bed partner picked out of her stable of charges. These films were mostly shot MOS (without sound) on weekends without a script or even a written outline, which gives most of the series an off-the-cuff, vignette-oriented feel. The narrative was fleshed in later in editing and the recording of narrations by an anonymous, authoritative voice, along with Campbell as Olga, along with a record of Moussorgsky's Night On Bald Mountain and some festive-sounding Chinese music. White Slaves follows Olga's progress with a woman fresh from the local jail, the voluptuous blonde daughter of a foreign diplomat (played by Leonore Rhein, also known as Gigi Darlene, whom we met in Doris Wishman's Bad Girls Go To Hell), and a young, bohemian-folkie-looking woman lured to one of Olga's "pot parties." The girls don't willingly submit to Olga's will right away, but persistence and ruthlessness prevail in the end. The film was also released as Olga's White Slaves after protests over the film's stereotypical association of Chinese-American communities with drugs and vice. There is even a character named "Lotus Wong" -- billed as being played by someone named "Miss Chinatown," who is very pretty and sweet-looking but definitely not Asian -- who attempts to help one of the new girls escape. The association was not absolutely necessary to the series, fortunately, and the Chinatown color was discarded in subsequent films.

While White Slaves used a fair amount of location footage of the Chinatown streets, Olga's Girls is entirely interior shots, which give an interesting claustrophobic feel. In many ways, it's more of the same: a cigar-chomping character referred to as "The Pimp" arrives with a couple of new girls and haggles with Olga over them. They are soon admitted to the stable, but trouble is brewing as word comes that one of the girls is informing to the cops, and while Olga dons her "cape of persuasion" (basically looking like a sheet of black naugahyde belted around her with a hole in the middle for her head) and sweats the girls one by one until she finds the stoolie, a group of the girls, including Olga's own right-hand-woman, plot to fly the coop and start their own set-up. Other interesting details include some red-baiting as the narrator explains how "Moscow and Peping" control the drug trade, and a fitting punishment for the fink that appears to have been lifted from Herschell Gordon Lewis's Blood Feast. But it's not all cruelty and torture in the Olga universe (though it's interesting enough that some of the tortures shown were suggested by the women playing the victims -- such as being wired to an electrical switch, making the victim jiggle around until her breasts fall out of her bra). The most successful sexploitation films always relied on the old principle of "something for everyone," and the Olga series was no exception. The films had a lot of filler, giving you a chance to chill after those grueling scenes of cruelty as Olga's girls relax on their off-hours smoking reefer, dancing, showering, getting dressed for bed, and other naked-lady activities. In fact, apart from the punishments, working for Olga seems on balance to be fairly light work indeed; you hardly ever see them turning tricks or selling dope, as they were supposed to be doing, though in Olga's Girls you do see a very nicely shot opening sequence of one of the girls walking to an assignation in silhouette down a half-darkened hallway; a very good example of the work of cameraman Werner Rose.

Olga's House Of Shame takes Olga and her operation out of the city entirely, to the site of an abandoned mine in New Jersey, where Olga and her partner Nick (Woody Parker) have moved their operation and must find out who is responsible for some lost items in a jewel shipment. They relentlessly interrogate Elaine (Judy Young), who proves to be much stronger than Olga and Nick expected, but who finally relents, spills all the beans, including who was in with her, decides to work with Olga instead of against her, and proves in the process that she can be just as mean and ruthless. Soon she is delegated by Olga to duties such as administering punishments to recalcitrant girls, while she's also developing a relationship with Nick. The couple are interesting casting, because Judy Young was small, round-faced and cute, and just doesn't come across as an apprentice Olga, while Woody Parker looks like a gay Jacques Tati. This was by far the most lavishly-produced of the Olga films, with on-set dialogue as well as narration (though the same record of Night on Bald Mountain is used) and a considerable amount of outdoor location shooting, and according to Campbell, the abandoned mining site was very dilapidated and very dangerous.

Campbell stated in interviews that her secret in playing Olga lay in not playing her "like a slut," as she put it. She shed her clothes on occasion for the camera, but for the most part her typical outfit in these films was a white blouse and dark skirt or capris, sometimes mixing it up with a bohemian dark turtleneck and well-made Swedish boots, but at no moment was she anything but poised and dignified, steely and determined. She exuded a "crawl, worm!" dominatrix attitude with little else but a grim smile or at most, an occasional manic grimace to show how much she relished putting her "dirty little tramps" in their place. The sluttiness was reserved for the girls in her charge, and they ran the gamut of fantasy types from sweet-faced innocents to tough cookies to trashy tarts, one of my favorites being Ricki Bell, who played Olga's right hand in the first two films and is the perfect mid-sixties tough chick with her tight clothing, deep chest and heavy mascara, at one point in Olga's Girls letting loose, dancing the twist at one of the extracurricular "pot parties" while puffing on a joint that dangles from her lips like an unfiltered Camel.

Audrey Campbell left the Olga series after House Of Shame. She didn't do much film work after the Olga films, but did go on to television, particularly supporting roles in soap operas,, with a recurring part in the Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows and later, The Guiding Light and Days Of Our Lives. She passed away in June 2006 at the age of 76. Joseph Mawra (real name: Joseph Prieto), went on to direct one more Olga film, Madame Olga's Massage Parlor (1965), which continued to explore the electrifying chemistry between Judy Young and Woody Parker; this film is lost, though he directed another film for George Weiss, Mondo Oscenita (1966), a pseudo-exposé of sex and perversity in the film business which included a heathy amount of footage from Massage Parlor, as well as the other Olga films. Many of these excerpts explore the ways in which health-club exercise equipment can stand in for mechanical torture devices and are quite weird, though not particularly cruel looking. By the early seventies, Prieto had left exploitation films for good and taken up a quiet career in real estate on Long Island.

There was also one "uncanonical" Olga film that was apparently made to cash in on the Olga notoriety. 1966's Olga's Dance Hall Girls had no personnel from the original films and credits no director. Lucy Eldredge, a woman with a faint physical resemblance to Audrey Campbell but without any of her poise or charisma joins Larry Hunter as Nick (who is also called Vince in the film!) in a dance-hall venture which is really a front for prostitution and ... a Satanic cult of human sacrifice (!). Larry Hunter is memorable here as a smooth-talking sleazeball whose pencil-mustache and slicked-hair look might well have inspired John Waters. The film also features Linda Boyce and Uta Erickson, two fixtures in late-sixties East Coast sexploitation, who for some reason often appeared together in the same films. The irresistable attraction of Olga and her evil ways lived on in the seventies as direct inspiration for at least two fairly successful sexploitation franchises, both of which went a lot further in the violence department than the Olga films ever did. Dyanne Thorne played busty Aryan bitch-goddess Ilsa in Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS (1975) and Ilsa, Harem Keeper of the Oil Sheiks (1976), two excessively violent but also high-camp films where she got to rule over her own little kingdoms of innocent women. The Ginger series (Ginger, 1971, The Abductors, 1972, Girls Are For Loving, 1973) was an action-adventure series with Cheri Caffaro as a sexy and dangerous secret operative and a heavy emphasis on her ball-busting, no-shit-taking take-downs of male antagonists.

Viewers who, like Olga's girls and countless grindhouse audiences before them, dare to risk finding themselves her helpless minions are directed to two DVD releases which between them offer pretty much everything there is to see. Something Weird Video's 2003 Olga Triple Feature has White Slaves of Chinatown, Olga's House of Shame and Olga's Dance Hall Girls, as well as trailers for all the Olga films, including the lost Madame Olga's Massage Parlor, an early Barry Mahon nudie-cutie short featuring Audrey Campbell as an artist's model, a clip from Mawra's Mondo Oscenita with the above-mentioned Madame Olga exercise-equipment footage, and a booklet with a 1995 interview with Campbell by Charles Kilgore. Olga's Girls is available on a 2005 DVD from Synapse Video with commentary by Campbell (who always refers to Olga in the third person, and with remarkable affection) with film critic Andre Salas.

The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill (1966)

The two main centers of American sexploitation film production in the sixties and seventies were New York and Los Angeles, and the films from each city had such distinctive character that I often find it convenient to refer to East Coast and West Coast styles or "schools" of sexploitation. East Coast sexploitation had a gritty, crude, "underground" feel, while the West Coast pictures were usually slicker, more entertainment-oriented and more obviously influenced by Hollywood film. One of the exemplars of the West Coast style was producer David F. Friedman, who came to LA in the mid-sixties after a period of partnership with Herschell Gordon Lewis. He and Lewis came early to nudie movies, making such light and fluffy "nudie-cuties" as The Adventures of Lucky Pierre and Goldilocks and the Three Bares, while also making the first "gore" films that were to define Lewis's career, Blood Feast and 2000 Maniacs, as well as a prototype of what would be called the roughie, Scum of the Earth. After they agreed to go their separate ways, Friedman settled in LA where he went into business with Dan Sonney, whose involvement in exploitation movies went back at least to the forties and fifties.

Friedman's first LA film was The Defilers (1965), a slick, competently-made film directed by R. Lee Frost that further defined the roughie genre, which became one of the mainstays of sexploitation film after the initial wave of nudie movies wore out its novelty with audiences. Roughies spiced up the nudity with violence, action, and lurid stories and mature themes like crime, vice and deviance, as well as a stark black-and-white style. The film did well and was praised by his colleagues on both coasts. But Friedman was imaginative and not married to the roughie genre, and for his next film planned a nudie costume picture to be shot in 35mm color.

The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill (1966) had the light-hearted, humorous touch which defined many if not most of Friedman's productions, and was an early example of Friedman's interest in cross-genre hybrids. The costume picture had a long history as an old Hollywood standby and was defined not so much by period authenticity as by a conventional staginess and escapism, and most Americans had grown up on these pictures just as they had grown up on Westerns and other genres, so it was not surprising that someone would hit on the idea of giving the nudies some period flavor.

When Friedman got to work on the picture, the first legitimate American edition of John Cleland's 1749 novel Fanny Hill; or the Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure had recently been published by G. P. Putnam's Sons. Today the novel can be read both as the first full-length work of erotic fiction in English, and as an example, alongside the works of Fielding, Richardson and Smollett, of the early English novel. In the novel the eponymous heroine arrives in London a penniless orphan and makes her way as a prostitute and as a kept woman before retiring on a bequest from one of her protectors and reuniting with the man who took her first flower and to whom she has remained emotionally, if not physically, faithful. It's a charming book and surprisingly tame by today's standards, lacking crude language and with a protagonist whose attitude to sexuality is neither prudish nor reckless. It's also a book that isn't actually referred to much by the script: instead it's about the "daughter" of Fanny Hill (no offspring is mentioned in the book) and only took some period inspiration and possibly the idea for one of the sequences from the book, the rest of the script being a figment of Friedman's, writer Jim Markham's and director Peter Perry's imagination: so that the film richly deserved the description in the trailer (also written by Friedman): "After two centuries of suppression: a story that was never told, a manuscript that was never read, a book that was never published became the motion picture that could not be shown."

In the film, "Kissey" Hill (Stacy Walker), Fanny's putative daughter, spends a day entertaining aristocratic clients, seducing her gardener, and engaging in some light-hearted erotic games with a group of young blades before a surprisingly downbeat ending in which she gets her comeuppance from the jealous wife of one of the aristos. Friedman came from a carny and burlesque background and was a great believer in the value of the tease: so there is very little skin shown and the sex scenes consist of series of closeups of hands, feet, flying clothes, and faces, edited with an upbeat sense of pacing.

Director Peter Perry was, according to Friedman, a former acting student from Chicago, and his first credits in exploitation film date from 1956 as writer and associate producer on The Flesh Merchant. His Internet Movie Database listings show a baker's dozen of directorial credits, mostly in nudie-cuties or sexploitation titles, signed with pseudonyms such as A. P. Stootsberry, A. J. Gaylord, and Seymour Tokus, and with a predilection for stagey, fanciful costume pieces. In My Tale is Hot (1964) a nudie-cutie piece starring diminutive burlesque comic "Little" Jack Little as a faithful husband in spite of all the temptations the Devil, in a horned cowl, cape and trident and a lot of makeup, puts in his way, and in which is a fanciful set of Hell, where the Devil is henpecked by a shrill but sexy wife. Three films he did for Friedman's rival, Harry Novak, and his company Boxoffice International, feature a bawdy presentation of a Shakespeare play (The Secret Sex Lives of Romeo and Juliet, 1969), another devil fantasy set in Biblical times (The Joys of Jezebel, 1970) and the historical burlesque The Notorious Cleopatra (1970), all with fanciful built sets and costuming, with lots of humor and a lively sense of parody (not listed at the IMDB are films for Novak signed by Bethel Buckalew, but according to Novak, actually directed by Perry: films like The Pigkeeper's Daughter and The Dirty Mind of Young Sally). The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill, Perry's first costume adult film, lacks the comedy and entertaining ensemble acting of his later films, and the reviews of this film cited by the IMDB are nearly unanimous in slamming the film. Most of them are a little too snarky for this writer, who clearly sees the wafer-thin plot and the dug-out-of-a-trunk look of the art direction for what they are, but still can enjoy the film, in part because of the excellent work of cameraman Lazslo Kovacs, who would become one of Hollywood's most respected cinematographers, and for the appearance of sexploitation's mystery woman, Stacy Walker.

So the story goes, Walker (nee Barbara Jean Moore) dropped out of college in Texas to go, on a whim, to Los Angeles and was sleeping on a beach at Santa Monica Pier when she was found by Friedman, who had not settled on an actress for the part of Kissey, and who decided to hire her on the spot. A blue-eyed blonde with a strongly sexual presence and a hint of cruelty, she was intensely photogenic and had the potential to be a prolific actress in sexploitation, and might possibly have had a shot at a legitimate film career: Friedman had arranged a meeting for Walker with an executive at Paramount and discovered that Walker had vacated her furnished flat to go back to Texas. Her filmography consisted of just three films, including a short, But Charlie, I Never Played Volleyball, and a black-and-white roughie, A Smell Of Honey, A Swallow Of Brine.

The cast also included Linda Cochrane, a brunette who first worked for Friedman and Lewis in 2000 Maniacs, and then for Friedman in The Defilers. The film also featured James Brand and William Rotsler, who would appear in Perry's The Secret Sex Lives of Romeo and Juliet. A science fiction writer by trade, Rotsler also directed pictures for Harry Novak, including The Agony of Love, The Girl With Hungry Eyes and A Street of a Thousand Pleasures.

The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill is available on Something Weird Video's 2001 DVD double-feature package with another Friedman-produced costume piece, The Head Mistress, inspired by the tales of Boccaccio and featuring the directorial talents of another member of Friedman's stable, Byron Mabe. This is one of many SWV releases with audio commentary by Friedman, whose gifts as a raconteur and memories of the old days are even worth hearing on the first viewing of the films. The trailer gallery features spots for other period-oriented films such as Barry Mahon's own series of Fanny Hill films (Fanny Hill Meets Lady Chatterley, Fanny Hill Meets Dr. Erotico, and Fanny Hill Meets The Red Baron). Viewers who are disappointed by The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill and want to see Perry at his tacky, light-hearted best are directed to another double-feature DVD released in 2002 by Something Weird, The Secret Sex Lives of Romeo and Juliet, which manages to juggle a sexed-up version of Shakespeare's plot with rapid-fire humor and lots-o-girls, like an adult cross of Fractured Fairy Tales and Laugh-In, along with The Notorious Cleopatra.

The First Nudie Musical (1976)

This bawdy cult comedy germinated in the mind of screenwriter/actor/director Bruce Kimmel during his first year in New York in 1969, where he took a day job waiting for his own break in show business. The job took him past the Times Square district, at the time a notorious tenderloin area full of adult theatres that showed "nudies" -- sexploitation films. He was amused by the titles of the films and their lack of sophistication amd conceived a musical done in the same style, and began to write songs for it, which at least -- at first, anyway -- entertained his friends. But the idea remained and after a few years he was able to write and, co-directing with Mark Haggard, shoot a film (with a distribution deal with Paramount) based on the original concept, but now about a down-at-heels Hollywood studio forced to crank out adult movies to stay afloat.

As the film begins, Harry Schecter (Stephen Nathan), the studio's producer, is meeting with his backers, who are sick of the lackluster business that the Schecter Studio's recent offerings (such as Stewardesses In Cages and Teenage Sex Mutants) are doing and who want to develop the studio lot into a shopping mall, when he has a brainstorm -- the first porno musical. The backers, half convinced, decide to let him go ahead, but give him two weeks to make the picture, or the studio's history. They also stipulate that John Smithee (played by Kimmel), a socially inept nerd who doesn't know how to make films and is not even comfortable around girls (and who is also the nephew of one of the backers), must direct the film. With almost certain disaster hanging over the project, Harry gets to work with the help of his secretary Rosie (Cindy Williams), and a cast of eccentrics including a ditzy Latina (Diana Canova), a confident, cocksure, and inept struggling actor (Alan Abelew), a corn-fed ingenue just in from Indiana (Leslie Ackerman), and the obligatory prima donna female lead (Alexandra Morgan).

The mid-seventies was probably just the right time for a project like The First Nudie Musical: while the nudies that originally inspired Kimmel had been around for years with hardly anyone in the mainstream noticing, everyone in the mid-seventies was talking about the recent advent of hardcore films such as Deep Throat and The Devil In Miss Jones, even to the point of speculating whether Hollywood might succumb to the lure of "porno-chic" and start going hardcore, so the film was timely. It was also a time of George Carlin and Richard Pryor, of the National Lampoon and also of the "midnight movies" such as Pink Flamingos and Kentucky Fried Movie, in short a time of increasingly explicit and adult humor which this film was a part of and which its success helped to encourage.

That success almost didn't happen, because as the film was being prepared for release, one of its stars, Cindy Williams, was hired to work on a new television series by none other than Paramount, the same company that was now contractually obligated to promote and distribute the film. The series, Laverne and Shirley, was a spinoff of the hit Paramount series Happy Days, and was intended to follow it on ABC's Tuesday evening "family hour" programming slate. Never mind that none of the principal actors removed their clothes for the film, or that the film was rated "R" by the MPAA and was intended for general release: Paramount determined to avoid embarrassment at any cost by not scheduling any press screenings or flashy east- or west-coast premieres and designing a one-sheet for the film that omitted the actors' names (the outraged Kimmel did finally get this last changed), and discreetly released the film to small theaters, usually without advance notice, hoping that the film would quietly die at the box office. Only it didn't. The film did very well, was sometimes held over as long as ten weeks, and influential reviewers such as Judith Crist and Newsday praised the film after actually having paid for tickets and seeing it in the theaters. Paramount finally decided to sell the distribution rights back to Kimmel and with a new New York-based distributor, the film did brisker business and became a cult favorite.

The seventies wave of adult humor of which Nudie Musical was a part might have ranged from frank and intelligent to crude and barely funny to borderline-pornographic, but the presiding spirit of this film seems to be Mel Brooks, who delighted in parodying the conventions of showbiz, and especially those of musicals. Brooks, born in a generation that didn't discuss sex openly, relies on suggestiveness and double-entendre, but the difference between his humor and that of baby-boomer Kimmel's is more a difference of degree than of kind. If Mel Brooks had been born in the era of Dr. Spock, sex education in schools, the Pill, gay liberation and the sexual revolution, it's possible that he might have come up with something like the "Dancing Dildos" number: a chorus of antebellum southern belles in see-through hoop skirts and sunhats singing the praises of "a girl's best friend" with four men dressed in vibrator costumes that make them look like missiles with feet as "director" Smithee causes havoc with a crane-mounted camera. It's a moment of inspired vulgarity in the same vein as The Producers' "Springtime For Hitler" number.

The film's pretentions to satirizing porn don't go very far, and don't really have to. In spite of numbers with titles like "Butch, Dyke, Lesbian," "Perversion," and "Orgasm," as well as the obligatory top-hat-and-tails number (about cunnilingus and called "Let Them Eat Cake"), the movie is a comedy about showbiz rather than about sex, and a showbiz comedy that's fairly old-fashioned in its humor to boot, with its "let's put on a show, kids!" storyline, likable, endearing characters and a sweet, uncynical attitude. There's a comfy, approachable feel to Stephen Nathan's harried-striver and Cindy Williams's girl-Friday relationship that's straight out of the old screwball comedies, and an impish, Harpo Marx charm to Bruce Kimmel's characterization. Critics singled out Cindy Williams for praise in this film, and rightly so: she is a remarkably subtle comic actress with an outwardly sweet, prim exterior and equal talents for verbal snark and Lucille Ball-esque physical comedy.

Further notes:

• Many of the cast, including Cindy Williams, Alan Abelew, Bruce Kimmel, and Diana Canova were friends and classmates at Los Angeles City College in the sixties.

• Ron Howard, who spent his boyhood playing Sheriff Andy Taylor's son Opie on the television comedy series The Andy Griffith Show, co-starred with Cindy Williams in George Lucas' American Graffiti, was currently star of the Happy Days television series, and at this time an aspiring director interested in any grassroots film project he happened to encounter, appears in a cameo in the audition sequence, talking with Lynne Marie Stewart, who also appeared with Howard and Williams in American Graffiti and went on to play the ultra-glamorous Miss Yvonne in Pee Wee's Playhouse.

• John Smithee's name derives from "Alan Smithee," a pseudonym used in the film industry by directors who do not wish to be credited on a film.

• A People magazine writer predicted a fabulous singing career for Leslie Ackerman on the strength of her "Lights And Smiles" number, not knowing that Annette O'Toole actually sang the song and that Ackerman couldn't sing a note: she practiced for three days in front of a mirror and came up with one of the best lip-synchs in film.

• "Dancing Dildos" was part of a sequence shot six months after the end of principal photography, on Paramount's insistence that the film sagged in the middle. The studio put up US$75,000 (about half the original cost of the film) for the shooting.

• For the week ending September 28, 1977, the industry paper Variety listed The First Nudie Musical as the fourth highest-grossing film after Star Wars, You Light Up My Life, and The Spy Who Loved Me.

• In the film, Harry advises John Smithee to bluff his way through the project by boning up on filmmaking terms and, since he's supposed to be a director of adult films, by peppering his speech with strong language, resulting in my favorite line, at the end of his first-day-of-production pep-talk: "Now, as Mr. Sheckler said, we don't have a lot of time. So I will of course expect hard work, cooperation, diligence, photography, sound and color. Shit, we could make a fucking good bitch of a bastard movie if we all pull together and work as a whore-loving cunt penis team. Thank you."

Filmed on an initial budget of about US$125,000, the film suffered from a number of technical inconsistencies (matting, different film stocks) that marred subsequent video releases, and the camera negative has been lost. The 2002 Image Entertainment DVD release, made from three prints, all rather aged, looks wonderful in all its color-corrected glory in spite of unavoidable artifacts. The film comes with commentaries by Kimmel, Williams and Nathan, an hour-long documentary with many of the cast members, deleted scenes, original trailers and a photo gallery.

A Chinese Torture Chamber Story (1994)

In the eighties, the government of the then-Crown Colony of Hong Kong reformed their film exhibition regulations and instituted three categories of certification: category I, for general audiences, category II, parental supervision, and category III, adults over 18 only. One motivation behind the new certifications was the desire to allow imported films such as The Last Temptation of Christ to be shown in the colony uncut, but be that as it may, the adult-only category also encouraged local film producers to push the envelope of sex and violence in their films and soon, "Category III" became a convenient handle for a particular type of HK film.

Category III films are almost always "spicy" variants of popular genres: there are category III period films, action films, crime dramas, comedies, horror films and romances, all modelled on popular trends with the addition of nudity, adult situations and graphic violence. As one might expect, Category III films are all over the map in terms of quality, tone, and mood, but like Japanese adult filmmaking, they do have a reputation for indulging cruel, even misogynistic fancies, so they can be offensive to some viewers. However, they can also offer unpredictable, weird film experiences unbound by conventional standards of taste.

And speaking of which, A Chinese Torture Chamber Story (original HK title: The Ten Tortures of the Qing) comes from executive producer Wong Jing, a man who has never let pedestrian notions of good taste stand in his way. I talked about Wong Jing a little some time back. Resolutely a commercial filmmaker, his films include relatively small, cheap productions with non-stars as well as large-budget vehicles for big stars such as Jackie Chan, but his penchant for salty, earthy humor remains consistent throughout. His passion for slapstick, absurdity, and vulgarity annoys critics and viewers who appreciate HK film for its style and its sophistication, but Hong Kongers appreciate zaniness, vulgarity, and nonsense in their entertainment to an extent that many of us overseas do not. It explains why Stephen Chow, who has been a top-billing star in HK for many years, has never really broken through in the Western mainstream with his cartoony action-comedies, and why the films to which Wong Jing gave his imprimatur divide overseas viewers.

In fact Bosco Lam, about whom I have no information, directed A Chinese Torture Chamber Story, from a screenplay by Tsui Tat-chor. The film begins with a brief overview of tortures used in Chinese history before opening on Little Cabbage (Yvonne Yung), discovered doused with blood beside the body of her husband Ge, and she is hauled before a Qing imperial magistrate accused of his murder, along with Yang (Lawrence Ng), a scholar and herbalist who had employed Little Cabbage as a maid, accused as an accessory. The magistrate insists that she and Yang were lovers who had conspired to kill her husband because Yang's wife, concerned about his attraction to her, had packed her off in marriage to Ge to avoid her seducing her husband, and compels her to confess with various tortures, but she insists that she was framed. The story unfolds in flashback as we learn how Little Cabbage came to work in Yang's house, discovers his wife's sexual insatiability, her adulterous affair with the magistrate's son and their plot to frame Little Cabbage for his murder.

The story is serviceable but is not really the point of the movie, merely offering the opportunity to linger on a sex scene here, a gag there, and various bits of shock elsewhere, substituting jaw-dropping set pieces of sex, violence, or humor for dramatic tension. Probably the most memorable moment, the moment where Wong's irreverent humor works best is Scholar Yang's encounter with a larger-than-life kung fu hero (Elvis Tsui) and his equally formidable wife who perform the marital act as though it were a kung fu battle, announcing their moves ("No-Shadow Lick from Fushan!!" being an obvious tip of the hat to the Wong Fei-hung mythos) and flying through the air in traditional sword film wirework style. This scene has apparently become a favorite clip on YouTube (can't seem to find the link... sorry!). Less brilliant but equally memorable is the night of the wedding of Little Cabbage and Ge, a parody of the potter's-wheel-and-Unchained-Melody sequence in Ghost, complete with the Righteous Brothers tune played on Chinese instruments.

Much mileage is gotten out of the size of Ge's masculine endowment, the Yang family nanny's anxiety about the size of her breasts, and the Four Lustful Instruments, the toys with which Yang enhances his wife's sexual enjoyment -- and of course exotic tortures involving contraptions of sticks and strings for crushing the fingers, beds of nails, and a stocks-like hanging cage in which the victim hangs by his skull until his neck breaks -- but like a family uncle who constantly makes tactless, tasteless remarks and passes loud, smelly farts at the table but who is still somehow tolerated, the film's constant scurrying around trying to get a reaction -- any reaction -- out of the viewer becomes somewhat trying, and taken as a whole Torture Chamber fails to quite satisfy as a whodunnit, a bit of sexy fluff or even as a good blood-and-guts gore film, going a little bit in one direction and then in another. It's more an a la carte mix of humor, violence and sex offered in little nibbles that might be tasty at times but might also leave you with a belly-ache at the end.

A Chinese Torture Chamber Story was made at a time when period films were especially popular subjects for the Category III treatment. Stars Lawrence Ng and Yvonne Yung were no strangers to this genre. Ng featured in the groundbreaking period-style erotica Sex and Zen, but he has been for the most part a versatile but middle-of-the-road actor, working extensively in television. Yung worked more extensively in category III films, and although she did diversify somewhat with more mainstream roles and a parallel career as a pop singer, she apparently never really left the category III ghetto. Neither one is a particularly charismatic presence, but Elvis Tsui plays his cameo as the kung fu/sex hero with a suitably lusty machismo, laughing heartily and drinking wine out of the jar like a real man. His character's wife is played by Julie Lee, and she's not bad either.

I first viewed A Chinese Torture Chamber Story several years ago on a VHS distributed by Tai Seng Video: it was released on DVD in 2007 in the US by Discotek Media. Part of the charm of the old VHS releases of Hong Kong films was their use of HK theatrical release prints which, by law (at least before the handover of the Colony to China) were subtitled in Chinese and English. The English subtitling of Hong Kong films often furnishes amusement by its frequently unidiomatic translation. The DVD features a fairly accurate and idiomatic translation but also has an optional "crazy Hong Kong" subtitling, taken from the original HK release, that can be selected.

(Keep in mind the following: A Chinese Torture Chamber Story is not really a date movie: it has full frontal female nudity, adult situations, and scenes of violence and torture that might induce some discomfort in sensitive viewers.)

3 by Doris Wishman

Doris Wishman's films are some of the most unusual in the field of sexploitation. Coming from a background in distribution, Wishman (1912-2002) began in the early sixties to write, produce and direct her own films. Her films developed along with the prevailing whims of the market, beginning with nudist-camp films, moving into black-and-white roughies, and in the seventies into color features. Along the way, Wishman developed a style of filmmaking quite unlike that of any other filmmaker, in the exploitation field or out of it.

It's hard to do justice to the Wishman style in words. She began making movies without previous production experience, formal training, or apparently even a grasp of conventional notions of film technique. Her camerawork is haphazard, her editing is eccentric and full of non-sequiturs, and her stories are often wildly improbable and fantastic, with bizarre premises, weird tangents or odd endings, a sort of Ed-Wood-goes-nouvelle vague, with moments that seem to be edging sideways into avant-garde experimentalism.

In front of us are three films from the mid-to-late sixties, Wishman's period of black-and-white roughies. Bad Girls Go To Hell (1965) is a great title and evocative of Wishman's pulpy inspiration. A young married woman (Gigi Darlene) accidentally kills her building superintendent when he attempts to assault her and has to leave home and husband for New York, where she hopes to lose herself in the crowd. Alone and without money, she is taken in and then has to leave a succession of creeps and deviants. She crashes on the couch of a kind and respectful guy (Sam Stewart) who turns out to be a closet abusive alky; she goes on to stay with a woman named Della (Darlene Bennett) who in spite of her kindness and relative stability is a lesbian, and the husband of a married couple with a room to rent tries to have his way with her. Finally she finds a sweet old lady who needs a live-in assistant, but the killing she is trying to escape still threatens to catch up with her. Preposterous but also brilliant in its context, the twist ending makes me expect SCTV's Count Floyd to appear on screen and try to save the situation with his trademark "Woo-ooo-ooo!" The moral to the story seems to be that if you must do housework wearing only a black lace nightie, put on a housecoat before you try to take out the trash.

In a lot of ways, My Brother's Wife (1966) is one of the better showcases of Wishman's parallel-universe approach to making movies. The story itself is a standard pulp-novel tale of a shady character named Frankie (Sam Stewart again), who shows up at the door of his older brother Bob (Bob Oran) and his new bride Mary (June Roberts). Sexually unfulfilled with her new hubby, Mary yearns for the caresses of virile but slimy Frankie, not knowing that he has also looked up old flame Zena (Darlene Bennett), with whom he is cooking up a scheme for rooking Bob and Mary out of their savings and blowing town. A standard B-movie plot really, but the big interest of My Brother's Wife is its spotlight on Wishman's weird approach to editing and camerawork: its tendency, for instance, to show people listening to dialogue spoken off-camera and then cutting to the first speaker, who listens to the other's reply, and then back again. Or there is her predilection for cutaways of random objects as though they had some sort of significance in the story, only they don't: a wastebasket, a shotglass of liquor, a Buddha statuette. This brings up another one of Wishman's visual quirks: her tendency to shoot in really tackily decorated locations, and during this period, in apartments full of pseudo-Oriental decor. There's also an interesting tangent in the story which has only a negligible effect on the plot, the weekend visit of Zena's lesbian cousin, who also happens to be named Della, and who, just to make it even stranger, is played by Darlene's twin sister Dawn in the height of sixties sexploitation-lesbian glory in boots, leather jacket, stirrup pants and a really sticky bouffant.

In concept, the above two movies are in familiar sexploitation territory with their respective roughie and B-movie premises, but 1967's Indecent Desires moves out of that realm into unexplored areas of more improbable and surreal cause and effect. As the film begins, skulking, reclusive pack-rat Zeb (Michael Alaimo, here billed as Michael Lawrence), who spends his time scavenging for interesting cast-offs on the street, finds a child's doll and crackerjack-box ring, and discovers that if he wears the ring and touches the doll, he can magically caress the flesh of attractive blonde Ann (Sharon Kent), a secretary he has been admiring from afar. But when he does, poor Ann can't understand why she feels invisible hands running over her body, and thinks she's losing her mind. Sometimes Zeb is solicitous in his long-distance relationship through the doll (as when an utterly distraught Ann goes down to the harbor with thoughts of jumping in and teeters over the edge, only to be held back by an unseen force, which is Zeb catching the doll from falling from the table it's standing on), but he's also jealous of Ann's blandly handsome boyfriend Tom and doesn't hesitate to take his rage out on the doll, with predictably unsettling results on the other end. The film feels at times like a parable about objectification or a treatment of the "stalker" phenomenon decades before the term was coined, which is interesting from a director who, notwithstanding her status as a woman in a male-dominated field, steadfastly maintained that she was not a feminist.

Doris Wishman would go on to work in color in the seventies, and her vision got weirder and wilder with such titles as The Amazing Transplant, The Love Toy, and especially with the pair of films she made starring Chesty Morgan (whose main attraction as an actress can be readily inferred from her name), Deadly Weapons and Double Agent 73. The premises became more bizarre, the acting more underplayed, and the art direction -- if one can call it that -- tackier. Those films and others are out there too, but my affection remains with the earlier black-and-white films, in part because black-and-white is so appropriate for sordid, sleazy atmosphere and because of the abundance of familiar faces from the world of east coast skin flicks in the films, Darlene Bennett and June Roberts being foremost among them. These two, along with Sharon Kent, Gigi Darlene and Jackie Richards (the mature brunette with the world-weary aspect who plays Kent's friend and co-worker in Indecent Desires) share the common characteristic of having racked up impressive filmographies for east-coast skin auteurs such as Wishman, Joe Mawra, Barry Mahon, Joe Sarno, and Michael Findlay in the same roughly six or seven-year period before disappearing from films for good in the late sixties. Michael Alaimo appeared as Michael Lawrence in a goodly number of exploitation films during this time, but went on to a fairly busy if not illustrious career in television, mostly in one-off character roles.

Bad Girls Go To Hell, My Brother's Wife and Indecent Desires have all been released on DVD by Something Weird Video, but I saw the first of these on a 5-disc compilation, Girls Gone Bad: The Delinquent Dames Collection from Passport Video.

Baba Yaga (1973)

After meeting a mysterious woman who calls herself Baba Yaga, fashion photographer Valentina (Isabelle de Funès) begins to experience strange dreams and visions and weird happenings, including the deaths of people whose pictures were snapped by one of her cameras the mysterious woman had handled. Convinced that the woman (Carroll Baker) is a witch who is trying to place Valentina under her control, she tries to convince her skeptical boyfriend Arno (George Eastman) to help her break Baba Yaga's supernatural influence.

The story of a lesbian witch who attempts to psychologically control another woman by cursing a camera and sending a familiar in the form of a doll in revealing fetishwear -- who sometimes assumes human form (Ely Galleani) to do Baba Yaga's bidding -- is also the story of compromises in terms of casting, control over the finished work, and to some degree censorship. Neither Isabelle de Funès nor Carroll Baker were Corrado Farina's first choices for the roles they played, but they did very well -- especially Carroll Baker -- under the circumstances. Corrado Farina's finished cut of the film was subjected to some irreversible (and unauthorized) negative cuts as well, and the film was contracted to a financially troubled distributor who could not promote the film properly, so the film sank at the box office and was Farina's second and last feature.

This Italian thriller was based on the comics character created by Guido Crepax, an artist whose comic strips were a great fascination for director/screenwriter Corrado Farina since they began to be serialized in the magazine Linus in the mid-sixties. Crepax's strips were some of the most sophisticated and challenging works in the medium, using a bold black-and-white style and laid out using the logic of film editing. Full of references to art, literature, psychoanalysis and classic film, they were also graphically sexual and often perverse, thoroughly modern and designed for well-read, broad-minded adults. As a filmmaker, Farina had followed the attempts of the time at films based on comic strips with interest (Mario Bava's Diabolik, Joseph Losey's Modesty Blaise, Roger Vadim's Barbarella) but found them less true to their sources than he would have liked, and decided to try his hand at a comics-inspired film more integrated with Crepax's cinema-inspired comics. As he himself admits, he was only partly successful, using sequences of high-contrast still photographs in repetitive patterns in imitiation of Crepax's graphics.

In the dream and nightmare sequences which punctuate the action, the film is a little more successful in conveying the phantasmagoria of the Valentina stories. The comics' attempt at being intellectually well-versed comes off a bit superficial in the film: Valentina's studio-apartment is modishy littered with books by Marx, Mickey Mouse, Sade, Beardsley, and there is an art book open to Picasso's Les Demoiselles d'Avignon next to the clear lucite telephone, she attends showings of films like The Golem, and the dialogue is littered with sometimes embarrassing attempts at intellectual chatter. This turned out to be the second and final feature film from Corrado Farina, so Baba Yaga remains a one-of-a-kind thriller that is stylish and interesting in spite of the compromises made: intelligent, sexy, creepy, and a suspicion of kinkiness.

Baba Yaga is available as a DVD from Blue Underground, a company specializing in European exploitation films, with an interview with director Corrado Farina, a DVD-ROM feature (a .pdf file showing comparisons between Crepax's comics and stills from the film), and a short film by Farina on Crepax's comics, Freud in Color.

Alley Tramp (1968)

Herschell Gordon Lewis is best remembered as the pioneer of gore and splatter in such grindhouse bloodbaths as Blood Feast, 2000 Maniacs, and The Gore-Gore Girls. But he started his career making nudies with partner David F. Friedman, and after the two amicably dissolved their partnership, apparently kept his hand in with the occasional skinflick, such as this campy troubled-teen/family drama in which scrubbed, wholesome Marie Barker (Julie Ames), a cute perky teenager in the mid-sixties Patty Duke Show mold, accidentally sees her parents in bed together and turns virtually overnight into a cynical, calculating, sexually voracious little wench. Beginning by seducing her third cousin, Phil (Steve White), she goes on to cut classes for trysts with Phil at local cheap motels and adopting an insolent attitude when confronted about her school attendance. When she catches her mother (Ann Heath) having an affair with a barfly named Herbie, she blackmails her into giving her a blank check for doing what she pleases, with whomever she pleases. It'll come as no surprise that this situation won't last for long.

In classic exploitation fashion, Alley Tramp takes the pseudo-moralizing approach to rationalize all the skin and sin being represented on screen. Marie's "serious case of nymphomania" is explained as the product of parents who are too busy squabbling with each other and pursuing their own selfish interests to take an interest in their daughter. Dad is too busy at the office, where he's having it off with his secretary, and Mom, notwithstanding the witnessed bed scene, is sexually neglected by her husband and seeks solace in booze and extramarital affairs of her own. After a hilarious montage of Dad dandling his secretary on his lap, Mom going with various pick-ups, and Marie in bed with Phil and with various other men who grab her fancy, it all comes down with a bump: an unplanned pregnancy, a botched abortion, a trip to the mental home, and Mom and Dad resolving to come together and make their family a happy one again.

By the time this film was made, this moral pretense was getting a little old-fashioned: exploitation films were losing the tongue-in-cheek lectures in favor of straightforward wallows in sleazy wish-fulfillment. But it works for this film, largely because it matches the acting to a tee: bad, broad, heavy-handed and loud. When Julie Ames does her "I'm not a child anymore, I'm a woman and I'll do as I please" speech, it's in a top-of-her-lungs screech and very obviously read from a script off camera... and priceless. Ann Heath similarly clobbers her role with overwrought gestures and community-theater emoting.

The style of the film only underlines the enthusiastic but unnuanced performances. A pragmatic filmmaker who always realized that his audiences didn't give a damn about stylistic niceties or mise-en-scene, Lewis always reached for the simplest solutions: if you can get the point across in one take, do it in one take. So when Marie goes to her bedroom to change into something sexy for Phil before seducing him, the tripod-mounted camera spends three minutes following her around in roughly moving pans, tilts and zooms as she peels off her clothes, admires herself in the mirror, selects some new clothes, puts them on, and leaves. Similarly, a walk in a very large, scenic park shot on location, until it is time for the outdoor love sequence, when the two collapse behind a bush and -- cut -- fall onto a carpet of artificial turf on a soundstage, shot from overhead with a tree branch and the sound of birds for some continuity and the two are soon engaged in a naked tussle that accidentally turns up the corner of one of the sheets of turf.

Alley Tramp is rich in this kind of bad-film detail, and the results add up to what I think is an accessible and entertaining film experience and one that might serve as an introduction to sixties sexploitation for those who like "cult films" but might not have had too much experience with this particular genre. The nudity is not particularly graphic, and the camp elements give newcomers a handle of sorts to acclimatize themselves to a genre that over the past several years has been coming out on DVD format, often after decades of obscurity. This film comes on a double-feature edition by Something Weird Video along with Over 18... And Ready, a story of the sleazy world of sexploitation pictures, as well as a few appropriate short subjects.

Teenage Cruisers (1977)

Musician, filmmaker, veteran LA scenemaker and cult film maven Johnny Legend is a jack-of-all-trades who worked in various capacities in the LA pre-hardcore skinflick scene and then in early hardcore adult features, his quick wits and gift of gab serving him well as film scorer, publicity man, maker of trailers, and finally as producer and director of films like the pre-hardcore, hippy/psychedelic/mondo-style Sexual Sensory Perception and this hardcore feature recently rereleased on DVD on his own Raunchy Tonk Video label.

The original concept was to do what was then called a "loopfest," in which short soundless 16mm hardcore films or "loops" (then commonly for sale in adult bookstores or through ads in magazines) were compiled with extra footage and/or narration to wrap it all in one cheaply made, feature-length package. But then the concept grew as Legend threw a cruising-Sunset-Boulevard theme and various subplots into the connecting material as well as enlisting friends from another project he was involved in, a band called the Rollin' Rock Rebels, one of the first bands of the rockabilly revival in seventies LA. He also threw in a couple of shorts he had made and the result was billed "the first X-rated rock 'n' roll movie."

Full of lowbrow but genuinely funny humor, the film brings together a vivacious teenager (seventies porn star Serena) eagerly and hornily waiting for her soldier boyfriend (John Galt), a "notorious nuthouse nympho" escaped from the local loony-bin (Christine DeShaffer) who raids a local adult boutique for various, ahem, items, and kidnaps stuffy teacher Dr. Flinch (Bill Margold), and perverted voyeur Willie ("Wild Man" Tony Conn) tries to pick up teenyboppers' lascivious conversations on his tape recorder, and a pair of dim-bulb cruisers (Colin Winski and Jerry Sikorsky) meet with mishaps on the Sunset Strip. Meanwhile KRUZ deejay Mambo Remus (Legend) spins rock'n'roll tracks and everyone meets up at "the end of the line" for a rockabilly rave-up.

Teenage Cruisers was not so popular with the raincoat crowd (not enough porn), but with the couples and porno-chic slummers it was a hit and did what few run-of-the-mill pornos did in the LA theaters it played, which was sell out houses. Part of it might have been the prominent billing of John Holmes and Serena, though Holmes is present only in one of the loops acquired for the film, and Serena, under indictment for obscenity at the time (as well as beginning to be visibly pregnant), decided to only shoot softcore scenes so as not to make her situation worse. Bill Margold, who in George Plimpton fashion was a writer who entered the porn industry in order to write about it, was in similar legal trouble, but decided anyway to perform with then-girlfriend Christine DeSchaffer in the only hardcore sequences actually shot for the film, as "Notorious Nuthouse Nympho Babsy Beaudine" tries to satisfy her insatiable cravings on Dr. Flinch with the aid of a forest of sex toys, a sex-instruction record, a Spanish fly and an endearing gooniness.

There is indeed a lot that is endearing about this film, in part because it is such a low-budget, garage-type project that someone and a bunch of his friends did. Johnny Legend clearly was having fun making the movie, and it shows. Shot MOS (without sound), the audio tracks being dubbed in later by Legend, along with his sister Lynnie (who appears intermittently in the film) and a couple of others, in a dense mix of little gags, throuwaway lines, and bits of incidental music that would appeal very much to today's cult-film audience. And the featured tuneage is good too, with the cream of LA's rockabilly scene contributing: Wild Man Tony Conn, Alvis Wayne, Billy Zoom (best known as guitarist for the LA punk band X), Rollin Colin Winski and Ray Campi.

Keep in mind that the film is sexually explicit and that the humor is fairly raunchy. But the sex scenes do not overpower the rest of the movie, nor is the humor nasty or mean-spirited. Johnny Legend has continued to front bands in the LA area, rerelease cult film titles theatrically and on video, appears on several commentary tracks for Something Weird Video, and making the occasional film, his most recent effort a shot on video feature combining sex and Mexican wrestling called Nympho Libre.

In other news: Thanks to Greg K. in Minneapolis for his efforts in getting me hardware-capable and back on the web and hopefully a more regular posting schedule. While I start gathering my material again after two years of a comatose computer, I will probably be spending a little time straightening the drapes and emptying the ashtrays, but more writing about film is on the stove as we speak.

The Yellow Teddybears (1963)

Salvation Films, a UK-based video company specializing in cult films, releases British exploitation films under their "Jezebel" imprint with the tagline "Sexy Retro from the Saucy Seventies," attempting to evoke freewheeling, mod visions of Swinging Britain through colorful, retro package design and hot-cha-cha copy, however, the films included on their Sex-a-Go-Go 3-DVD set, all made before the seventies, suggest at the very least that exploitation in Britain took awhile before finally hitting its stride (at least in comparison with the trailers for other, later films the set includes on the discs). None of the films on this set are truly memorable, but all have their interest: the latest film on the set to appear, 1969's Zeta One, an improbable spoof of both sci-fi and spy films, is the film that shows the most skin (and some endearingly cheesy costuming and set design) and features a performance by Charles Hawtrey, the comedian best known for his work in the low-brow, Benny-Hill-esque Carry On films; while Secrets of a Windmill Girl (1966) began life as an attempt by producers Tony Tenser and Michael Klinger, who, as the Compton Cinema Group, had acquired London's Windmill Theatre (from the thirties to the sixties a London institution with its distinctive brand of spicy variety theatrical programs), to document the Windmill "revudeville" shows and ended as the story of a dancer's rise and fall from Windmill girl to stripper, and featured an early performance by Pauline Collins, an actress who later established herself (and received an OBE) through prestigious television and Broadway performances. Earliest, lowest on the meter in terms of salaciousness, and to my mind the most interesting is 1963's The Yellow Teddybears, the focus of today's discussion.

Painfully earnest and preachy (and -- unless we are talking about a "Continental" version of this film which also circulated for a while that featured spliced-in scenes with completely different actors -- without nudity or really any suggestive content) the film is a drama about premarital sex among teenage girls who go to a particular suburban school. The title refers to small teddy-bears which are worn by a clique of girls at the school, the significance of which is inadvertently found out by their biology teacher (Jacqueline Ellis): only girls who have slept with a boy may join the club and wear the insignia. Only a few years out of university herself and also sexually experienced, she is shocked, not because these girls are having sex, but because they are having sex for the wrong reasons, and she confronts them in class for using sexuality for competitive and status purposes instead of its deeper and more personal significances. Meanwhile, one of the "teddybears," Annette Whitley, has been keeping her pregnancy a secret, and when her attempt to obtain an abortion is discovered by her father, she runs away to London, and her enraged father blames the school for corrupting his daughter's morals.

The final scene which unfolds from this development lays the film's agenda out on the table for you, as Ellis is called to a meeting with the headmistress and the board of governors of the school for her remarks to the Teddybears, and the scene is a veritable kangaroo court of the forces of hypocrisy, respectability, and repression versus Ellis's honesty, understanding and candor, as her frank admission of having had sexual intercourse before marriage (with, it is implied here, her fiance who is a drawing teacher at the school), which was made to the girls as part of her advice against promiscuity, is inflated into charges of corrupting morals by a group of self-righteous characters obsessed with what effect this scandal might have on the school. Meanwhile a subplot concerns Whitley's classmate (Georgina Patterson) who, having sat in the bedroom with her boyfriend while he sleeps off too much drink at a party, is then mistakenly considered to have qualified for the wearing of a teddybear.

As it happens, I watched this film as the US Food and Drug Andiminstration approved a new vaccine for human papilloma virus (HPV), a sexually-transmitted disease which can lead to cervical cancer. The requirement that the drug be administered to girls before they are sexually active has occasioned a furor among parents and religious groups who are worried that inoculation against a disease that leads to some 4000 deaths a year from cancer be construed to make premarital sex seem "okay." It is a little depressing waching this film and noticing that the attitudes it shows -- that sex before marriage is some sort of taboo which must be enforced by ignorance and vulnerability to negative consequences -- are still with us today. The point that social pressure to be sexually attractive and active must be met by a response more compassionate than rigid repression allows is impassionedly made by Ellis to the governors, who present a wall of hostility, arrogance, and superiority: "You ask for charity, we ask for chastity," says one of them, a smarmy lawyer played by Raymond Huntley. Meanwhile, Whiteley, last seen hitching a ride with a creepy, randy young truckdriver on her way to an uncertain future in London, is deemed not of great importance to the school's governors, since she has left the school and the district; the possibility of scandal besmirching respectability trumping any compassionate considerations.

Director Robert Hartford-Davis never made much of a name for himself as a director, going on to make a number of other exploitation films before going to America where he directed television before passing away in the late seventies.

Gate of Flesh (1964)

The 1960s and '70s were a fertile period for genre cinema in Japan: they impress me in much the same way as Hong Kong film of the eighties and nineties do with their combination of freewheeling creativity, style, and exploitation values, and probably no other filmmaker of the period did it as distinctively as Seijun Suzuki. He began making films at the Nikkatsu studios in the fifties but hit his full stride in the early to mid-sixties. They seem weird and arty today, with lots of bright color, weird visual flourishes and a cocktail-lounge cool, but art was the last thing on Suzuki's mind when he made them. To this day Suzuki maintains that he was not motivated by visual aesthetics or symbolism, or even a particular passion for film: it was just his job. He was a B-movie director, he will say, who worked on projects assigned by the studio, projects destined for the second-feature slot on the triple-feature programs which were standard in Japanese moviehouses at the time. Nevertheless, no one made pictures quite like Suzuki, and his influence is seen all over in Japanese exploitation film.

Gate of Flesh (Nikutai no mon, 1964) was my introduction to Suzuki's work, a melodrama set in postwar Tokyo during the early months of the Allied occupation, a time when devastation and poverty are everywhere and where survival is the main preoccupation. Maya (Yumiko Nogawa), a girl who has come from the countryside looking for work, joins a group of prostitutes: in exchange for their protection, she must abide by their code of conduct, rule number one being never to sleep with a man for free. Girls who break this rule are severely and brutally punished before being turned out to fend for themselves. Into this tight-knit group comes Shin (Jo Shishido), ex-soldier and petty criminal, wounded and on the run from the Allied MPs after stabbing a GI, and his guts and charisma prove attractive to all the girls, provoking infatuation and then dissension: when Maya finally sleeps with Shin, the others turn on them both, drumming Maya out of the group and betraying Shin to the local yakuza.

Gate of Flesh was based on a novel by Tajiro Tamura which was originally filmed in 1949 and has been filmed again twice since Suzuki's version. This was intended as a vehicle for Jo Shishido, a star who was a major box-office draw and one of the more out-there of Nikkatsu's tough-guy leads, and who worked with Suzuki on a number of films and always seemed to have a handle on what Suzuki was doing. Charismatic and tough in a very Japanese way (it's been my observation that just about every culture seems to have its own distinctive flavor of tough guy, at least as far as film is concerned), Shishido had a distinctive face (thanks in large part to cosmetic surgery early in his film career), a sonorous baritone and a crazy fire in his eyes that made him ideal for heavies and especially anti-heroes. As good as he is in this film, it is Nogawa who shines in this torrid and often bitter film as her character is whipped through all sorts of extreme emotions and appears to grow up before the viewer's eyes from a hungry, frightened and childlike newcomer to a coy and flirty teenager to the heartbreak and suffering of adulthood. Misako Tominaga is also noteworthy as an older member of the group who does not share the girls' dress, aggressive "American" manners, or their simplistic view of men and sex as a meal ticket.

The strongly drawn characters make for torrid drama, but Gate of Flesh is also memorable for its expressionistic visuals, its bitter and angry view of Japan's defeat in the war, and its pioneering venture into "pink" or softcore sexual content. Much of the Suzuki look has to do with longtime collaborator Takeo Kimura, who did production design for many of Suzuki's films, and much of it also has to do with the low budgets Suzuki had for his projects and the ways Suzuki and Kimura devised to get the most out of those budgets. Postwar rebuilding had eliminated most if not all traces of the devastation of the war, leaving no suitable locations, so a set was built from a warehouseful of scrap lumber being stored on Nikkatsu's lot, using labor that was recorded as routine cleaning and maintenance. Much has been made of the "symbolic" meaning of the color coordinated outfits, a color for each character, that Maya and her fellow hookers wear, but the main purpose of single colors was simply to distinguish them from the other hookers in the neighborhood, and it led to my favorite sequence when each of the girls shares her private thoughts about Shin in settings that match their outfits and have almost no continuity with the rest of their surroundings. Also, superimposition is used to show characters' points of view and reactions, as when a closeup of Nogawa's face, both anguished and ecstatic, is superimposed over Tominaga's punishment for her liaison with a mild-mannered schoolteacher.

Gate of Flesh's view of the aftermath of the war from the perspective of the Japanese is also interesting because it differs so much from the way we especially in the US have been taught about the Occupation. In 1964, anyone old enough to attend this film would probably have had some vivid memories of the period: its hardship and poverty, and the humiliation of living under the boot of foreigners. Suzuki himself had been called up towards the end of the war, and his own wartime memories were of retreating from the Phillippines and being shipwrecked after American fighters bombed his ship, and he has recalled candidly that his own view of the Americans at the time he made Gate of Flesh was less than positive for just this reason, and the sadness, bitterness, and anger of defeat hangs over the film like a cloud. Tominaga's character is a widow who lost her husband in the war, and Maya's brother was lost in Borneo, and Shin is a constant reminder to them both. For his part, Shin is cynical about politics, as are all the characters; they have the point of view of people whose lives have been up-ended by war, and who have little time for arguing over politics. The most moving passage of the movie on the topic of the war is when Shin and the girls get drunk together and Shin, his head shrouded by a rising sun flag covered with the names of his comrades, sings a soldier's song which fades into quiet weeping, and this flag figures in the end of the film, floating in the gutter, as the camera moves up and takes a long shot of the city and the Stars and Stripes flying in the distance.

Finally, Gate of Flesh is notable as a harbinger of what would eventually become a staple of Japanese genre film: sex. While small indie producers and distributors were already making softcore adult films, Gate of Flesh was reportedly the first major-studio film to go in the adult softcore direction with its nudity and disturbingly sadistic punishment scenes, scenes that even today will not sit well with many viewers, especially in the West. Japanese genre cinema would go further in the ensuing decades, and here we see the beginnings of what would become a major trend: nudity and themes of obsession, perversion and misogyny, which is hard to justify on moral or social grounds but also puts the "sex-obsessed" Western media in some perspective.

Quiet Days In Clichy

Quiet Days in Clichy appeared in 1970 and was stopped at the border when Grove Press, having done reasonably well with distributing another controversial film, I Am Curious (Yellow), attempted to import the film for distribution in the US. After a court battle and a brief distribution in the US, the film disappeared and only in recent years has been viewed again, and is now on this DVD put out by Blue Underground a couple of years ago.

By a coincidence, this film, made in the Place Clichy area described in the book, was being shot at the same time that another film adaptation of Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer starring Rip Torn, was being shot, also using authentic locations in a neighboring quarter. Both this film and IAC(Y) have tended to overshadow this film's reputation during its long absence, as has the court case surrounding the film, one of many battles that Grove Press's Barney Rosset fought against US censorship. Rosset was inspired to go into publishing by Henry Miller, and had fought in court to publish his books in the US, so it was appropriate for them to follow up IAC(Y) with something adapted from Miller.

Directed by Jens Jørgen Thorsen, a filmmaker, artist, and prankster associated with the Situationists and close to the radical art and intellectual life of Europe in the sixties, I liked the film for its spontaneous style and rough, underground feel, as well as Country Joe McDonald's soundtrack, but I wasn't bowled over by it. More artsploitation than art film, the story concerns an American writer named Joey (Paul Valjean) and his French buddy Carl (Wayne Rodda, who was originally Australian, as it turns out) as they live for the day, cadging meals and bedding chicks, mostly the latter. There is nothing too terribly experimental in the film apart from its frank depiction of sex which is somewhere in between the simulated writhings of sexploitation and the clinical closeups of the adult feature film of later in the decade. No politics intrudes or diatribes against the bourgeoisie or the military industrial complex, just Joey and Carl living life to the full, which apparently entails looking for "cunt" (one of Miller's favorite words) and a day trip to Luxembourg, shown mostly in stills.

Quiet Days in Clichy was probably appealing to those who wanted a movie with sex but found I Am Curious (Yellow) too boring and full of politics. It wears badly today mainly due to the sexism of its storyline and its dialogue. Miller was a long-winded writer, but blunt to the point of callousness on the subject of sex, not using any flowery circumlocutions or euphemisms, and he was very much a product of his lower middle-class, turn-of-the-century Brooklyn upbringing, as comes across right away in this film. Probably the crudest attitude comes from Rodda as Carl, who takes in a simple-minded teenage runaway and keeps her around to cook, clean and provide sex until her parents come to pick her up, and who says about one woman, "She's got a cunt like a suction pump." The persistently insensitive comments and general attitude about women was not, for me, a reason not to watch the film, but there were plenty of moments that made me cringe. You just don't hear that kind of talk anymore, or at least I don't, and there are definitely folks who don't want to hear it, and they are probably better off giving this movie a miss.