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Vinegar Syndrome digs back into the heyday of hardcore with a three disc collection of no-menu “talking stags”, where you too can make the discovery that damn, those hippies sure did dig missionary position…sheesh!

A Lindsay Buckingham type with a prominent Italian style proboscis and a tiny pecker whips it out the second he walks in the door of his groovy 70’s spread (complete with a Tiffany-esque stained glass chandelier, shag rug and one of those late 60’s vision of the future capsule chair-type metal fireplaces)…before doing a naked handstand.

Of course, he decides to have his cute, vaguely Streisandesque significant other go down on him like this.  He then makes fun of her strap on and they get it on on a throw pillow cum futon.

Makes perfect sense, right?  At least there’s plenty of nice vintage decor…

Next up is “Homer the Late Comer”, featuring a disgusting middle aged overweight borscht belt type dressed up like Nero who gets it on with the world’s worst belly dancer/Scheherezade on another batch of throw pillows, on the same white shag rug as last time!

The real wonder here is that this girl could even stand to be touched by this ugly slob (who likely accurately represented a fair portion of the unaccompanied theatrical attendees to this particular featurette).

Seriously, this guy’s gross.

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Oh, wait, it was just a dream!  He’s married to an even more hideous and belly-busting old lady (though according to the script, their relationship turns out to be even more disturbing by film’s end) and has a job as a film editor at some crappy warehouse.

This gives the loop director the chance to change scenario and feature the plain Jane at the front desk and her used car salesman pal in a faux-post bank robbery “film” (conveniently set against a brick wall with cardboard boxes and shredded paper as backdrop!) scored by sub-Bob Dylan and the Band harmonica and piano shuffle.

You know, I really didn’t need to see these two get it on any more than Homer and his pal earlier…

Believe it or not, this one keeps rolling along.  Homer (whose entire schtick involves making surprised google eyes and leaving his tongue hanging out like a dog in any and all situations) goes to a food truck for lunch and meets the cute, Southern accented “new receptionist”, who rather unbelievably invites him over to her place for swimming and shenanigans (!) – are all these people blind or something?  Then again, she turns out to have dingleberries…wasn’t anyone watching during the filming?  Sheesh, go wipe yourself or something…

Then “Kum Film” brings us “Erotic Point of View”, where we get a Dark Passage-style first person shooter POV as “Mr. Cox”, a “writer of erotic fiction” with a Terri Gibbs-like secretary who’s “blind…but it doesn’t seem to hamper her efficiency”, even when she’s bringing him drinks by the pool (!)

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Then he meets up with a very chatty, sorta Janis Joplin, kinda Wayne (MC5) Kramer-looking stoner hippie wtih bad teeth at the local liquor store that leaves both entrances wide open and unguarded (!) before heading over to her place, where she lives with an Erin Moran lookalike.  Of course, they’re both gay, so you know what comes next.

Then the blind secretary brings in a Lionel Richie meets 2 Live Crew’s Fresh Kid Ice type and a John Carpenter clone for a private floorshow.  Then a totally stoned but still whiny runaway with twisted Bugs Bunny buckteeth and Babs Streisand’s voice drops by for a round with Carpenter and Richie the Kid (who uses his belt in inventive fashion).  Did we really need to see that it’s time for her monthly visitor? Sheesh…

Then Terri Gibbs the secretary sets up a home projector and screen (remember those?) for a viewing of “Satanic Productions’ Sweet 13”, produced by “Horny Blackman” and directed by “Peter Small”, with cameraman “Herman Stiff” (who looks like Homer from the last stag reel!) “and his horny friend Fagy Joe”.  Cough.

Some atrocious sepia tone B/W footage ensues, while Gibbs services “YOU!”

er…”Mr. Cox”.

End.

Whew.

How many of these have we sat through?

Next, “Alien Films” informs us that “pornography is derived from the Greek, meaning writing about prostitutes.”  Some rather nice erotic art from around the world and throughout history ensues, eventually morphing into the sight of (conveniently daylight shot, to avoid the stigma the usual patrons and hangers on might bring) L.A. grindhouse theaters.

Welcome to “Porno Mondo”, complete with an Italian crooned theme song!

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Fake interviews with an “adult film producer” and Rene Bond as a “writer of adult motion pictures”…what does that job description entail, a few scribbles on a cocktail napkin? “the plumber enters through the kitchen window…I’m just here to fix the pipes, baby!” “ooh, yeah!”

Sure enough, Bond says “when people get around over a couple of cocktails, the conversation usually turns to sex.” Assessment confirmed!

Some girl with a HUGE face and a strange looker with a bad wig and enormous fake eyelashes (both of whom have been lurking about beneath the aforementioned “interviews”) get it on, and it’s kinda scary.

Thankfully it’s cut short, for another lame fake interview with a cute starlet and a doofy guy in a Danny Bonaduce pageboy haircut (I’m thinking this guy’s Bond’s main squeeze Ric Lutze – sure looks like him, and he’s stupid and obnoxious enough to be him…).

There’s even a bit of weird comedy when a projectionist in a woman’s wig and a Thurston Howell meets Carson Kressley speaking voice gives his “interview”.  As with most of the shorts on this disc, the prurient bits are a bit hard to watch and rather inaesthetic, but hey.

Then it’s time for “Sex Before Marriage,” where a pudgy, Tom Jones sideburns-bedecked dork and his plain Jane Midwestern style proto-hipster girlfriend get it on in the kitchen, kicking off a litany of chubby chaser horrors that include:

  • Tom Jr.’s car breaking down, leading to his heading off into the woods with a huge, bouffant-sporting housewife (who walks around town in her underwear…shudder)
  • Some random dirty guy scoping out Tom Jr.s VW Beetle (which the latter promptly informs him doesn’t run) and offering him “a couple hundred dollars” for it just on the street (!)
  • Said dirty guy getting it on with a stretch mark scarred tubby in his place while supposedly getting the money for Tom Jr. (who’s waiting out on his front steps)
  • Tom Jr. getting sent up to get the money himself, thereby missing his wedding to Plain Jane while balling the dirty guy’s fat girlfriend (who looks a lot like Cannibal Corpse’s George “Corpsegrinder” Fischer!) on an understandably squeaky bed (surprised it didn’t collapse on them…)
  • Tom Jr. thumbing a ride home and winding up watching his ride screw each other in the back of their pickup.  “This drunk picked me up…”
  • Then he finally gets home and winds up screwing Plain Jane’s (comparatively) much better looking blonde stoner sister “come on, relax, man!”.

Whew!  On to disc 2…

First it’s another one of those no title sex in the woods on a conveniently placed blanket jobs.  No dialogue, no plot, it’s like a Summer’s Eve commercial gone hardcore.

Then on to “the Playboys” with John Holmes.  A lot of acetate damage on this one, so expect some very period appropriate psychedelic oil light show business throughout.

A John Cleese clone goes from room to room and gets it on with Mamie Van Doren and a 9 foot tall brunette, then passes the kinda cute Southern gal from the Homer loop on to Holmes (who in time tested stag reel fashion, leaves on his weird black socks throughout.  Does anyone actually wear those fucking things?

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Next comes “Suckula”, where a boozehound television announcer (who doubles as a drag queen reporter) talks about footage of a Jerry Lewis-style vampire (complete with sepia tone and silent film cards) and introduces commercial breaks that take cheap ads of the era into hardcore territory.

It’s quite strange, but the girl in the first ad is kinda cute in a vaguely Charlotte Rampling meets Jackie Bissett sort of way.  The pale redhead who does the vampire about halfway through ain’t bad either.

Then we move to “the Big Snatch,” which feels more like a feature film than any of the other loops in this collection and features (generally speaking) a much better looking caliber of girls on display (one looks a hell of a lot like Exile in Guyville-era Liz Phair, just as an example).

Of course, it’s still pretty grotty – the full length sequence of our lead cooking up, tieing off and shooting up should say a lot about the aesthetic here.

“the Erotic Adventures of Hercules” is next, a proto-Joe D’Amato costume porno with a semi-built lead, a dessicated old bum (who as the “king” gets a lot more action than our “hero”…shudder) and a few reasonably cute late 60’s ladies.  The picture’s pretty washed out here, so don’t expect vibrancy – “desaturated tones” along the lines of Dungeon of Harrow are the order of the day.

Finally, we move on to disc 3, where we discover that Olde Englishe poet John Donne (of the Twa Corbies fame) has graduated to porn production, with the Rene Bond/Ric Lutze loop “shot on location”.

A poolside cutie gets it on with the pool cleaner while our leads plot and scheme (and pea brained Lutze struggles to remember his lines).  There’s a great hanging lantern, a nice stonework fireplace and indoor greenery (and another nice crimson chandelier later on), so there’s enough nice decor to delight the aesthetic eye.

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Cinematographically it’s pretty well shot, but the remaining ladies of the cast are pretty skanky, and it’s more for the crowd who beats off to Hollywood Boulevard than the general filmgoer.

Then its time for “The Touch,” where a Carlos Santana-looking John Holmes blackmails a nigh-Annette Haven type (you could also say she’s a tad Pamela Hensley) into working as a drug mule using a homemade crochet frog as mode of transport.  No shit.

On the downside, if you ever had the hots for Flo from Alice and Mel’s Diner, Holmes balls her here.  “Wadd…kiss mah grits!”  Sheesh…

Then some doofy Krist Novoselic lookalike balls Wednesday Addams, Pamela Haven there brings the stash to Dee Dee Ramone and Wayne Kramer, who all sample the merchandise – sniff, sniff!

Then she brings it to Luke Askew and a Baby Spice “wannabe” (ahem), who also inhale some of the goodies (Luke even leaves a little on his face for good measure – messy, messy!).  In the end, our mule pal gets back “the evidence” and walks off with his cash for good measure.

I’m sure she’ll be alive for long after that, right?

On that lingering rhetorical question, we move on to “Carnal Go-Round”, where silent film title cards inform us that “Alice is a hooker and loves her trade.”

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Luckily, the homely “Alice” is quickly shunted aside in favor of the attractive Latina “Minnie”, who she “tutors” in the fine art of selling your body for cash.  L.A. location footage abounds.

Things look way better in aesthetic terms when we’re introduced to “Norm (who) throws freaky parties, so he can watch”.

Norm lives up in a gorgeous estate in the Hollywood hills, all stonework, expensive vintage furniture and decor of a decidedly gothic old world bent (candelabras, statuary, a velvet covered, intricately carved “throne style” loveseat, you name it…what is this fat fuck doing in my house, anyway?)  Does anyone really care about the naked folks rutting in an absolutely gorgeous setting like this?  He’s even got a mirror by the bed.  Man after my own heart.

Finally, for all one of you who actually needed to see “Alice” in the buff, she finally gets a scene at the end.  Whatever.  Yeesh.

Matters close out on a bleak note with “All American Hustler”, which falls somewhere between a low rent blaxploiter ala Al Adamson or Greydon Clark and a Duke Mitchell film in feel.

A Rob Reiner lookalike pimps a whiny girl, there’s a rather nice jazz/blues number or two (one of which she sings – and she’s not all that bad!), and said girl’s pal shoots up in the john.

It’s one of the most feature filmlike of the loops here, but decidedly the least – who the hell would actually enjoy something like this, and do you actually want to meet anyone who admits to that?

The film quality and degree of restoration possible are obviously quite varied throughout this collection of generally hour length loops, and I could have done without one or two of ’em (“All American Hustler” in particular).

But all told, this is a surprisingly jam packed collection of Something Weird Dragon Art Theatre style loops and shorts from the Aquarius…well, post-Altamont era, so if you enjoy vintage sexploitation, you really can’t go wrong with this one.

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