I was in the mood for a bit of 1970s sexploitation when I found this odd piece of sleaze. Some nut is brutally killing the hard-working ladies staffing the city's massage parlors. We're treated to a generous supply of boobage with occasional bits of bush. Those displays are linked by the inept efforts of two cops and a handful of scenes seemingly drawn from a hat. Among them are a few poorly written and acted domestic spats; a ludicrous romance; perhaps the longest pointless car chase ever filmed; and performances below the bar even for the era and genre, including corpses still visibly breathing and a long, sloppily framed and edited nude/topless pool scene, wasting a whole lotta nekkedness from a whole lotta extras who had nothing to do with the plot.
But from the midst of that mess arises a brilliant off-the-wall rant from Theodore Gottlieb, early in the metamorphosis into his legendary Brother Theodore persona. If you know the character, that bit alone makes this clunker worthwhile. If you don't, dip your toe in his unrivaled churning waters of rage, non-sequiturs and wisdom. You may hate the guy's shtick, but your cultural education has a gaping hole until you've seen him.
The math for this four-star rating represents1 for the skin and 2 for Theodore, boosting what would otherwise deserve a 1.
But from the midst of that mess arises a brilliant off-the-wall rant from Theodore Gottlieb, early in the metamorphosis into his legendary Brother Theodore persona. If you know the character, that bit alone makes this clunker worthwhile. If you don't, dip your toe in his unrivaled churning waters of rage, non-sequiturs and wisdom. You may hate the guy's shtick, but your cultural education has a gaping hole until you've seen him.
The math for this four-star rating represents1 for the skin and 2 for Theodore, boosting what would otherwise deserve a 1.