Roddy McDowall never had it like this!
GRAPEVINE, Tex. -- Have you ever noticed how those "sexy hour" movies on Cinemax--those 11 o'clock movies with names like Temptress-- only hire actors who are deformed?
Watch when they have sex. First girl gets nekkid. Then boy doesn't get nekkid. (What's up with that?) Then girl sits on top of him like she's settling into the bull-riding chute at the National Finals Rodeo. And then you get a lot of violin music and a camera that pans up and down, over and across, all around her garbonzas while she squints her eyes and exhales a lot. Half the time the guy doesn't even touch her, and if he does, it's like he's reading Braille--fingertips only, making sure he avoids anything sensitive.
Every once in a while you think he's about to do something. He's moving his hand, he's almost got it, he's gonna... whoops! And, of course, he's got his eyes shut too. He wouldn't want to actually see the Silicone Sister who's sort of occasionally resting her pelvis on his... well... this is my point..
Their bodies don't line up.
If you look at em real close, they're freaks of nature. If they're having sex, then their sex organs are either way too high or way too low on their bodies. And that's disgusting..
Anyhoo, there's obviously a market for this stuff in America--in Europe, on the other hand, they just have plain ole raunchy hot and sweaty sex--and the guy who does his own special version of sex-but-no-sex for the video market is John Bacchus, well known to readers of this column for his recent epic "Gladiator Eroticus." I've watched a few John Bacchus flicks now, and a theme is emerging. This may be the only filmmaker in America who casts lesbians in every major role of every movie he makes.
His latest effort is "Play-Mate of the Apes," the lesbian answer to Tim Burton, in which three lusty lesbo astronauts crash-land on a jungle planet inhabited by talking apes who think humans are inferior because they can't get funky on the dance floor. Pretty soon the astro-bimbos are collecting every available leopard-skin bikini so they can prove to the ape military that they can indeed boogie, but meanwhile they keep sneaking off to the woods with various cavegirls to canoodle like comatose weasels.
Sure we've seen it before, but have we seen it with an extended outdoor party scene featuring rapping primates? I think not.
Misty Mundae, the slinky little brunette who stars in almost all of John Bacchus' flicks, stars as the lead lesbonaut, and she eventually leads the human revolt featuring frenzied scenes of bikini-clad kung-fu Amazons beaning hapless apes over the head with clubs, spears and strained dialogue. In the meantime, as I mentioned, they do sneak off into the woods. Frequently.
Absolutely no plot to get in the way of the story.
Four dead bodies.
Two cheesy video-special-effect crash landings.
Bimbo net capture.
Two ape riots.
Multiple blows to the simian groin.
Gratuitous lemonade stand.
Gratuitous guy in a chicken suit.
Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Darian Caine, as the wild-eyed cavegirl, for having zero dialogue and speaking it well;
Two and a half stars. Joe Bob says check it out.
Official "Play-Mate of the Apes" websites: SeductionCinema.com and mistymundae.com
*To check out Joe Bob's voluminous guide to all the B movies ever made, go to www.joebobbriggs.com or email him at JoeBob@upi.com. Snail-mail: P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221.
© Copyright 2002 United Press International and Joe Bob Briggs
Parody of Ridley Scott's masterpiece that opens with a nekkid Roman lesbian general (did they have those?) walking through a golden meadow, rubbing her hand over the waving stalks where her homeland of Lesbius once stood before the emperor demolished it. (Uh, shouldn't that be Lesbos, the Greek island popularized by Sappho? Obviously director John Bacchus didn't pay attention in Latin and Greek class, perhaps because he has the surname of the god of drunken revels.) And then comes that staple of historical movies, the slow type-crawl:What's the favorite Greek word of the film industry? (Hint: it's not souvlaki or Oedipus.) That's right: erotic. You can pair the word "erotic" with virtually any other word in the English language and conjure up all kinds of nasty ideas. "Dancer" is boring, but "erotic dancer" is an adrenaline rush. Reading a "novel" sounds like a chore, but reading an erotic novel makes Anne Rice a millionaire. "Pictures" is a neutral concept. Erotic pictures require Supreme Court decisions. We could have chosen a French word, like sensual, or an Anglo-Saxon word, like sexual, or a German phrase, like "himmelfarb eichendichter." (Actually, no we couldn't. Nobody tries to score by whispering in German.)
"Many things are known. Many things are unknown. But few know the legend of the lesbian gladiators." That legend begins in Germania, in 285 A.D., where the Emperor Gluteus Maximus commands General Eroticus (the sinewy brunette Darian Caine) to lead his army against the barbarians. The warriors refuse to fight until she shows them her breasts, Mardi Gras-style, but then they engage in an orgy of limb-hacking that may be historically accurate or may be a couple dozen thinly-garbed extras in a New Jersey field, tossing around rubber limbs from somebody's Halloween party. After a long lesbian sex scene between Eroticus and a blonde warrior, both of them wearing authentic period thong bikinis, Gluteus Maximus claims victory and Eroticus addresses her troops: "Let's just say we licked 'em." Gluteus Maximus asks her to assume the emperorship, to preserve it from the designs of his wimpy mincing son, Dickus Minimus, who has already printed up T-shirts that say "I Am the Emperor!" and spends most of his time trying to make his babe sister pose like Madonna and remove her blouse. When he discovers that his father is about to pass him over, he raises his toga and exposes himself in a fit of rage, causing the emperor to fall over laughing and drop dead of a heart attack. Soon the conniving son is dispatching identical-twin blonde lesbian big-breasted legionaires to slit the throat of Eroticus. Instead they end up groping one another under a tree until the heart-broken homesick lesbo general can make her escape and trek home in the nude to the ruins of Lesbius. In other words, it's pretty much a documentary about the third century A.D., told from the lesbo point of view.
Fifteen dead bodies.
Groping, with wailing Muslim music.
Multiple orgiastic grimacing.
Nekkid slow-motion gladiatrix practice.
Extras eaten by giant Disney animals.
Multiple piercings in interesting places.
Darian Caine has the best line:
"Most of all, I wish for the return to my homeland of Lesbius, to listen to the sweet sounds of etheridge, and laugh in jest at the brilliance of Degeneres, and on Tuesday nights head down to the local playhouse theater for the Xena episode."
With Misty Mundae as the oversexed young imperial sister Clitoris ("Uh, I dropped my contact lens and she was helping me look for it"),
John P. Fedele as the evil Dickus Minimus who proclaims new signs for the city reading "Welcome to Sunny Decadent War-Mongering Rome"
("I need to be down with the ladies in the 280's"),
Debbie Rochon as the lesbian gladiatrix boot-camp slavemistress ("You will play in the Lesbian Games or DIE!"),
Jade Duboir as the muscular ebony warrior Orgasmus ("You may lunge at my breasts now"). Two stars.
When a man lost his penis to cancer, doctors replaced it with one of his fingers; according to Ripley's Believe It Or Not
Joe Bob Goes to the Drive-In
Erotic Survivor (2001)
By Joe Bob Briggs, Drive In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas
For the week of August 29, 2001