The Spaghetti Strip: Sexy Proibitissimo, Part 7

It new to this series, start here.

Did you read too much Heavy Metal magazine when you were young and developed a fetish for bug-eyed monsters and naked woman?  You have?  Well, get ready to have that fetish ground into the dust.  After this final segment of Sexy Proibitissimo you'll incinerate all your copies of Heavy Metal and then bury the ashes at the crossroads so they might never rise again.

Let's not land here, it looks moldy.

Our final segment starts with rocket ship orbiting a planet made exclusively of swamp water and stale bread.  Out of all the sci-fi I've seen, a rocket ship orbiting a planet has never lead to stripping, but maybe this is some kind of intergalactic house-call stripping service?  It's probably the only service where you not only have to specify male or female, but also note the number of tentacles.*

* sure to get google hits.

Uh, sexy?

The set is certainly goofy, but it's still way to expensive (remember this was the 60s) for a simple stripping movie.  I suspect a general sci-fi set was used. When the next serious sci-fi film was shot here, did they wonder why there was glitter and panties everywhere?

Space panties or extra aluminum foil?

For some reason not mentioned by the movie, our space babe starts stripping.  Did she check the atmosphere before hand?  It's fun to watch a stripper with big breasts, but not because the pressure is wrong and her body is slowly inflating before it pops like a whale carcass.

This advanced alien race has mastered the use of cardboard backdrops.

Our audience, a couple bucks of plastic tubes from the local hardware store, are sitting in mute appreciation of this sexy dance, or, more than likely, wondering what the hell this pink blobby thing is up to.  Is it aggressive?  Why does it keep shaking it's fatty deposits?  Should they get the atomic guns ready before it starts leaving stains everywhere?

Frolicking amongst the paper-mache!

And so ends Sexy Proibitissimo and my worst typing nightmare, except when I get back to the missing monster segments for my two months of Halloween.  Yea, I guess?

The Spaghetti Strip: Sexy Proibitissimo, Part 6

It new to this series, start here.

We are skipping three segments of Sexy Proibitissimo -- and a wild cheer goes up in the peanut gallery -- because I'm saving them for the two months of Halloween celebration.  There's stripping (actually, more rolling around with various spinal injuries) and monsters.  This next segment doesn't have a monster ...

Boo!

I stand corrected!

What we have here is the start of a Japanese stripping segment.  Japanese, you say?  What's Japanese about anything in that frame?  I'm sorry that, unlike me, you aren't a cultured world traveller.  That is, in fact, the Egyptian Jackal God, Anubis, who is very, very Japanese.  Totally Japanese.

Well, he likes anime, I heard.  And that one "I'm Turning Japanese" song.

If you buy that, than you'll buy that the featured stripper is very much an Asian dancer, and not another Italian woman.

The digital pause again ruins a perfectly good strip routine.

She has all the hallmarks of a Japanese woman, especially the flaming red hair and the giant, grotesque granny panties.

If this was really Japanese, they'd blur the whole scene!

The leaning tower of dork.

There's a short, Benny Hill-ish type skit next, if you remove the Benny Hill, the music, the kinetic movement, the humor, and the involuntary action that keeps bile in my stomach.

Basically, it's an old guy staring at women in bikinis.  Ladies and gentleman, filler in a stripping film!

A drunk sailor character does not bode well for the plot of a stripper movie.

Our next segment features a drunken sailor peering (there's an "r" in that) into an empty bottle.  With any luck, this scene will end with him being drugged and shanghaied away to work grueling hours on a boat and develop scurvy and a tender love for a small hole in the aft deck.

But it doesn't.  Instead, magically appearing in the bottle is ... and I know how shocking a revelation this will be ... another stripper.

Wow, Barbra Eden is a real looker!

This one actually decides to smile while dancing, which makes me wonder:  what is it with the grim countenance of most of these 60s strippers?  It's like somebody is yelling "strip or the puppy dies" right off camera!

I guess this one absolutely hates puppies.

The Spaghetti Strip: Sexy Proibitissimo, Part 5

It new to this series, start here.

In this segment of Sexy Proibitissimo, we have two more historical stripping scenes.  The first is the cliché Lady Godiva.  Let's get right to the nude lady and an embarrassed horse.

Lady Godiva, the non-candy version.

Notice the horse has blinders on ... was the horse some kind of pervert that kept ruining the shot, or is this a reflection on the actress they got to play this part?  Is that why they shot her from a distance? Does a series of questions constitute a joke?  On this blog it does!

Bonus poop joke/question: Is it good to ride a white horse when you are wearing no pants?

I hope they follow this up with something in good taste:

The blood stain is a nice touch in your stripping movie!

Really movie.  Really.

Let's hope this doesn't go down a dark path, but I suspect the path we are about to embark upon is filled with trolls, ogres, and a director who probably spent his early years burying his sister's dolls up to their necks and then running over them with a lawn mower.

Allegedly.

Gallows Pole: The Musical was a really terrible idea.

Nothing screams "sexy stripping" like stripping done to save yourself from dying a grisly death in the guillotine!  What next, movie?  Stripping to avoid the punch at Jonestown?

Yes, this scene is exactly what it seems.  To avoid getting beheaded, this woman does a strip show for the execution.  I wonder how much she's in to it?

Just what I want in my stripping movie -- mortal terror on the stripper.

About that much.

Not that anything in this movie went through any kind of committee, but did nobody speak up about this?  Nobody on the set?

"Hey, director, I know you want me to dress up as an executioner and watch a woman strip with a look of horror on her face, but maybe we could find some other historical time to strip to, like, I don't know, like stripping during the mass suicide at Masada?  Just an ideal!"

Keep the bonnet on, the executioner likes that!

Now, a long way to go for a joke: Our lady survives the French revolution, unlike Marie Antoinette, who gave the people the wrong slice of pie.

The Spaghetti Strip: Sexy Proibitissimo, Part 4

It new to this series, start here.

More Sexy Proibitissimo, wether you like it or not.  Today our journey of historical stripping takes us to ancient Egypt, and based on this movie, it's the land of bad Liz Taylor imitators and Funkadelic back-up singers.

I hope that's milk!

Here we have the well known Cleopatra milk bath.  For those wishing to duplicate it, the formula is:

• Milk
• Honey
• Roughly 82 metric tons of sand

Mix throughly, stick head end of an asp to your breast, die.  Asp part mandatory.

What, no, what makes you think Katy Perry exploits other cultures?

History Geek-ing here for a second.  One thing this segment shows is the actual multicultural make-up of the Egyptian Empire.  I highly doubt the film makers meant to be so progressive, unless they meant progressively less clothes.

Also, History Hypocritical Geek-ing here for another second.  The Asp/breast thing isn't historically proven.

Alright, back to the boobs!

I really, really hope that's milk!

That milk has got to be getting all up in the sorts of places milk was never meant to go.  If she dances too hard she's going to have butter coming out her butt.  Great, there's another couple of google hits right there from very surprised and very specific fetishists.

'Tis a fetching table cloth cape, my good knight!

The next segment is the courtly love in the Middle Ages, where women didn't shave and everybody smelled like dying cattle filled with dying plague flea infested rats -- so -- just like the Ren Fair!  Ha! I really stuck it to the people who have literally been the butt of jokes for decades.  That's the kind of high caliber comedy you'll get here, one step above open-mic night at the local country bar.

This segment is all about the newly married man finally getting a look at his bride.  Will see represent the typical woman of Mediaeval times?

Blue cardboard brick, all the rage in the middle ages.

Oh course not.

You know, on second thought, I'm thinking the cities overflowing with sewage and the dead weren't so bad after all!

The Spaghetti Strip: Sexy Proibitissimo, Part 3

It new to this series, start here.

In this segment of Sexy Proibitissimo, we see the slightly biblical story (Salome or the dance's name are never mentioned) of Herod and Salome, and the Dance of the Seven Veils.  In this movie, the Dance of the Seven Veils leads to sparkly panties and boobs.

In Christian tradition, it leads to the head of John the Baptist.

John the Baptist really got the raw end of that deal!

It's either a stripper or the Ghost of Christmas Future.

Herod is wondering why that magnificence soup catcher isn't enough to get the ladies without a royal decree.  Is he storing the wrong type of soup?  Is the pea soup old enough?  Is the layer of slimy and stringy grease not thick enough?

Damn it, does the man need to eat calm chowder?  He didn't grow that beard for nothing!

Fabric by the yard on sale at the local stripper store.

It's like an ad for weight loss!  Last year, my stripper pants were this big!

Stretch Monster pasties were directly from the biblical accounts.

Suddenly, the movie becomes a nature documentary as Herod feeds the starving Salome by letting her suck the pea soup out of his beard.

If you need a lay down after that, I'll still be here.

There's 82 lights in this scene and it still looks like the inside of a barrel.

Now we are doing some Hercules motif, in Hercules most insidiously hard labor, the pumping of the biceps while lady dances around with urn on incredibly fake set.

Note that in this entire segment, nobody takes off a single piece of clothes.  In a stripping movie!  Now, I assume, for the vast majority of people, taking off clothes is something they can do.  Athletic stripper dancing?  A lot harder, but we all have the ability to take off our clothes, which means this segment failed at the easiest part of stripping!

One for the ladies (I have those in my readership, right?)

If that dude sucks in that stomach anymore, his intestines are going to fly out of his back like a party streamer popper.

The Spaghetti Strip: Sexy Proibitissimo, Part 2

It new to this series, start here.

Continuing on with Sexy Proibitissimo, originally titled Proibitissimo, which means "most prohibited" in Italian -- I assume the "Sexy" was later added for an American audience.  Note that for somebody who's seen Blood Sucking Freaks more than once, the "most prohibited" for mildly re-enacted historical stripping scenes rings false, though both films feature topless women and guillotines.  No kidding.  And you thought the Frankenstein thing was going to be the weirdest, didn't you?

Good Sir, you call that stripping?  I say Hmph!  Hmph!

But before that, old men watching a stripper.

I couldn't be more excited if you mainlined Jolt cola into my spine.

I took this shot so you can see he's wearing underwear.  You're welcome.

Here we have our defense attorney who seems to think he's in a production of Disney's To Kill a Mockingbird on Ice.  He is trying to get a women off (ugh must resist siren call of cheap puns!) in front of a jury of Greek men.  His interpretive dance isn't working, mostly because he made the mistake of wearing underwear.

So, in a society that built most of western culture and political institutions, what amazing court room maneuvers can our hero pull off?

He's either Superman or they are stripping in a hurricane.

Stripping.

Or in it's more proper latin, E Boobish Ushowen.  Yes, historically, using Latin makes little sense here, but normal rules don't apply in a universe that seems to be composed of only a smallish brick stage in the endless pastel void.

I drew in the helpful arrow.  It's not in the film.  It should be.

Get a good look, grandpa, they haven't invented Viagra yet.

I knew the Stretch Monster would come in handy!

Our stripper wins the case, even though see doesn't seem too interested in the outcome.  It's like she is rolling around her "To Do" list up in her head.  I'm beginning to suspect at the top of that list is "get paid, get out of stupid movie."

The Spaghetti Strip: Sexy Proibitissimo, Part 1

I've reviewed a lot of 60's nudie cutie films, most are boring, some are entertainingly strange, and some of them slowly ratchet up the strangeness until somebody is stripping for Frankenstein.  Oh yes, this happens.  Welcome to our first Italian nudie cutie: Sexy Proibitissimo ... the film I'm going to regret doing as spelling Proibitissimo is annoyingly hard.

Me Italian Caveman!  Hope writer doesn't resort to broad ethnic stereotypes!

The idea behind ... sigh ... Sexy Proibitissimo ... is a bunch of stripping scenes throughout the ages.  We start back in caveman times, and our first few frames of the film tell us a couple important things. It's filmed well, and the women are stripping in a place that's probably 90% chiggers and ticks.

Our caveman is tired after a long day of hunting.  At this point, if you are a young earth creationist, then you know three things: (1) he was hunting dinosaurs and (2) the flood was caused by all the stripping and (3) how did they get this actual footage of caveman days???  Amazing!!!

Ug, time up!  Cave well lit by studio light, must be day!

Out sexy cave lady wants some attention, but our caveman is wiped out because a bunch of idiots keep asking him if he rides dinosaurs.

Sexy cave lady has a secret weapon.  No, not her Flintstone's hot bird-beak hair curler, but a sexy strip tease that momentarily will distract our caveman from remembering he's in a cave of rotting animals carcasses and human waste.  Sexy!

Ug, look, me invent thong!

Cave lady alluringly strips off her 20th century manufactured clothing, who's very existence would probably be a bit more exciting to our cave man.  Still, she gives it the best shot she can, as she rolls around in furs covered in fleas.

Wait, maybe it's not a dance, maybe it's some sort of ancient delousing!

How's the cave man doing?

Me bored.  Dance lack Je ne sais quoi.

Eh.  Ug seen better!  Ug seen cave bear wiggle better when Ug beat to death with club!

Our scene switches to a modern stripping show to compare.  In the 60s, a more polite time, you calmly circled the stripper and clapped slowly.  Nothing at all menacing about that!

The stormtrooper dance was a big hit at the rotary club.

Have a friend addicted to stripping?  Think this friend needs help?  Honestly, forget those 12 step programs, three steps in and you're drinking coffee like a truck stop waitress.  I propose a one step program:

Screen shots.

Take at the right time, any stripping, no matter how sexy, becomes something designed by H.R. Giger while possessed by H.R. Pufnstuf.

Sunny Gore-ida: Love Goddesses of Blood Island, Part 6

If new to this series, start here.

Excitement, action, and random kitchen accidents await within the stunning conclusion to Love Goddesses of Blood Island!  Blood will flow, and that's just from listening to the awful low-budget guitar and kazoo-filled-with-whipped-cream jazz score.

David Seville's "Witch Doctor" has a really weird video.

Our love goddesses have fallen into a trance, something the movie neither cares to explain or cares to shoot in any way that makes sense.  You have to give the director credit for trying this hard to actually not try.  It's a gift, or a curse.  Maybe it's a gurse?

Our hero and his new sweetie make a run from the beach.  But the love goddesses are close behind!

Cut, cut, stop smiling!  Rock murders don't smile!

... maybe a little too close!  Head love goddesses and Pippi Longstockings goddesses gets in a bit of a tussle that last nearly three minutes of light rolling around in the sand. In the 60s, this is the best you're going to get! Pippi picks up a rock -- that looks mysteriously like a sponge soaked in red paint -- but a rock damn it, a rock -- and proceeds to lightly brain the daylights out of the head love goddesses, and get paint on everything.

One down, but another approaches. Luckily our hero has a spear.

Iiiieeeeiiiiiii will always love yoooooouuuuuuuuu!

That'll leave a mark.

Somebody took corset training a little too seriously, didn't they?  Our love goddesses was carrying a large knife, and let's hope that she doesn't pull out the spear, turn around, get the knife pointed at her eye, and then fall on it.

What are the possibilities of that happening?

Worse yet, that grass is full of ticks!

Relatively high!  The other love goddesses never show up (big hair shellacking appointment?) and our hero and now tamed love goddesses (couldn't leave well enough alone without mentioning a fetish, could I?) get off the island.

I stopped the movie here and assumed they were eaten by very dull-toothed sharks.

You'd tell me if my tongue went black, right?

Thus ends Love Goddesses of Blood Island.  The last minute of the film is a ambulance/newspaper montage that our hero has been rescued, and that men in the 60s -- both allured by and afraid of women's sexuality -- can go right back to being jerks.

It's a win-win!

Sunny Gore-ida: Love Goddesses of Blood Island, Part 5

If new to this series, start here.

This movie keeps going and I'm beginning to feel it, deep in my withered soul.  I think if I found myself in a crafts store and got near the fake tropical foliage section, I might go nuts.  It would certainly make an interesting news item!

Whirlpool hair, big for a couple of days in the late 60s.

One day, and one day soon, a majestic bird will appear from that egg on her head, and then that bird shall grow scales and burn every last person that worked on this movie, or was related to somebody that worked on this movie, or dared do a good deed for anybody that worked on this movie.

This is the next lady for our hunky hero to make love/uselessly paw.  But she has a sinister secret!

One for the ladies, if you like prehensile butt testicles.

Our next woman actually wants to escape, and enlists the aid of our hero.  She tells him that they still have to make love, because:

"You're being watched, didn't you know, there are three of them, now out there in the jungle.  They are love goddesses, they love watching as much as participating."

To which our hero replies:

"Degenerate fiends!"

I'm willing to accept a remote island full of love goddesses and plastic kiddie pools surrounded by faux marble, but I'm not willing to believe that there's a single hetrosexual male that said those words next to "hot women want to watch you have sex with hot women."  That stretches my suspension of disbelief until it snaps back and kills the cat.

Beach Blanket Bingo got really weird near the end.

AND WHOA.

Here's where it's obvious we are missing footage.  Suddenly he's at the center of ring around the rosie if you replace rosie with pointy stab-y sticks.

A scene from every stoner party I went to in college.

Our lead love goddesses -- sounds like a position at an LA strip club -- lead the bruhaha with all the gusto of somebody medicated for the pain of a missing bottom half.

Part of the missing footage -- and I'm guessing, because I've seen enough of these films to know that continuity isn't something they'd even wave "hi" at from the other side of the street -- must have been our hero and the other woman planning their escape.

They've really updated Disney's Tiki Lounge!

... and it seems the escape plan involves our hero being stabbed repeatedly.  Not particularly well thought out.  But wait, is that rope not tied very securely?  Isn't this exciting?  Kind of?

Next: The exciting conclusion!  Or just a conclusion.

Sunny Gore-ida: Love Goddesses of Blood Island, Part 4

If new to this series, start here.

At this point, Love Goddesses of Blood Island is just numerous scenes of our hero being worked in the fields, than forced to have off-screen sex (multiple times a night) with each of the "goddesses", a term which I, and the film makers, use very, very loosely.

Basically, it's just a film of a guy doing 'hos.

What, you were expecting something else?

Yes, I'm reduced to puns.  But things are going to pick up soon, because we finally get the promised gore.  One of the women, before she has sex with our hero, in what has to be the world's worst pillow talk ever, mentions calmly what she did to the last guy.

For men, this is better than Viagra!

Alright, alright!  I'll put the toilet seat down, geesh!

I can't blame her, if I found a stylist did that to my hair, I'd be in a killing mood, too.

I'm trying to determine what you might consider that make-up.  Nuvo-Egyptian? Strained cat?  Norman Bates mother, pre-desiccation?  I do have to say this would make a great dating site profile picture.  It reads "fun", or maybe more specifically, "relatively short fun followed by bunny cooking."

She killed a clown, he's full of festive balloons!

It's nice this guy man-scaped before getting cut open.  There's no a hint of hair on his oddly colored and completely cylindrical body.  It's nice for victims to go the extra mile to make their bodies look as absolutely fake as possible, even replacing their own organs with glowing pink sausages.

Those pants are absolutely ruined.  No way is all that blood coming out in the wash!

I didn't work all day in a hot kitchen for nothing!  You're going to eat it!

It's like she just discovered that she's holding a heart in her hands.  Maybe next she'll figure out she's in a gold bikini acting in a movie called Love Goddesses of Blood Island.  Then she'll really scream.  And probably really cut somebody open.  Hopefully the director.

Well, the whole island of hot women thing didn't turn out as expected.

He might be dead, but his marvelous permed hair remains intact!  We truly do live in a age of wonders!