Cheap Mafia movies are a dime a dozen, right? Not when your heroine is Chesty Morgan, the Polish peeler with proportions preposterous enough to give Russ Meyer pause. Billed as Zsa Zsa (as in "The Zsa Zsa Gabor of Burlesk"), she smothers any of the viewer's misconceptions during the title sequence. As the credits roll and the great theme song blasts, we see the jiggling title artillery distorted (okay--more so) in a series of convex mirrors. Please note that this film is not erotic in the least. Rather it is one of the most unintentionally hilarious pieces of dementia ever to hit the screen!
The amazingly ridiculous plot finds Chesty is Crystal, a "Hard Selling Woman" who is deeply in love and wants to get married. Unfortunately, her gangster boyfriend is rubbed out by his associates after a backfired double-cross. Hell hath no fury like a monstrously huge-breasted woman scorned, and Crystal takes it upon herself to dish out retribution. How? With her gargantuan just-over-six-foot bazookas, of course! Clad in pantyhose and girdle, she raises her arms--cue the thunderous crash of bowling pins--and closes in for the kill! As you may guess, sense is not the movie's strong point. But who watches Doris Wishman movie expecting sense?
Chesty comes off as a complete boob, with her clunky, elephantine breasts as her only assets. Sporting a (supposedly self-supplied) platinum shag wig and a hideous ruffled wardrobe, she lumbers around on mile-high platform shoes, staring blankly at her gaudy surroundings. She does two striptease acts, which consist of her walking around a bit, losing her top, and manhandling those frightening things. Throughout the course of the film, she looks and acts like someone just dragged her out of bed.
Still, despite her awesome inability to act, Miss Morgan has an undeniable screen presence and is consistently fascinating to watch. She and Wishman have created a style of what, in other hands, might be considered simple ineptitude. Everything about the film is so delightfully, wonderfully tacky and ridiculous that you can't look away. It's as if Chesty herself is merely the pinnacle of the greater camp aesthetic. The final dollop of Cool Whip is that THIS WAS INTENDED IN ALL SERIOUSNESS! See it now!
The amazingly ridiculous plot finds Chesty is Crystal, a "Hard Selling Woman" who is deeply in love and wants to get married. Unfortunately, her gangster boyfriend is rubbed out by his associates after a backfired double-cross. Hell hath no fury like a monstrously huge-breasted woman scorned, and Crystal takes it upon herself to dish out retribution. How? With her gargantuan just-over-six-foot bazookas, of course! Clad in pantyhose and girdle, she raises her arms--cue the thunderous crash of bowling pins--and closes in for the kill! As you may guess, sense is not the movie's strong point. But who watches Doris Wishman movie expecting sense?
Chesty comes off as a complete boob, with her clunky, elephantine breasts as her only assets. Sporting a (supposedly self-supplied) platinum shag wig and a hideous ruffled wardrobe, she lumbers around on mile-high platform shoes, staring blankly at her gaudy surroundings. She does two striptease acts, which consist of her walking around a bit, losing her top, and manhandling those frightening things. Throughout the course of the film, she looks and acts like someone just dragged her out of bed.
Still, despite her awesome inability to act, Miss Morgan has an undeniable screen presence and is consistently fascinating to watch. She and Wishman have created a style of what, in other hands, might be considered simple ineptitude. Everything about the film is so delightfully, wonderfully tacky and ridiculous that you can't look away. It's as if Chesty herself is merely the pinnacle of the greater camp aesthetic. The final dollop of Cool Whip is that THIS WAS INTENDED IN ALL SERIOUSNESS! See it now!