Naked as Nature Intended (196) – Harrison Marks.

Enjoyable 60s peek-a-boo cheekiness that follows the flighty adventures of four young ladies on their nudie holiday in historic Cornwall. A playful, bracingly bucolic, expressly scenic example of a modestly immodest vintage British skin flick. Quite charming in its own way, featuring light-hearted narration, appealing countryside vistas, natty period fashions, stridently pastoral score, and exquisitely lovely English maids in the blissful buff, pretty as a picture, just as nature intended! Sweetly wholesome, strangely uplifting, seemingly forgotten fare, very little to offend the zeitgeist, and avid paganauts will certainly appreciate the intimate footage captured at Stonehenge. Tasty, and eminently tasteful, 60s gem Naked as Nature Intended offers keen nature lovers a mildly titillating travelogue and vivid time capsule of a lushly green Great Britain of yore. It is, perhaps, an unexpected irony, that the earnest Naturists credo, so often espoused in the film of naturism promoting a healthy body, and equally healthy mind, may not be relatable to the more furtive viewers lurking in the audience! Speaking solely for myself, I maintain an especial fondness for the more enlightened exploitation titles that strongly support the beneficial practice of men and women therapeutically getting their beautiful botties out!

 Adam and Six Eves (1962) – John Wallis.

'He's a big man, but he ate like a bird, a six foot vulture!'

This frothy 60s skin-flick finds a doltish, implausibly fortuitous treasure hunter, dangerously adrift in the desert, finding fleshly succour within an exotic oasis solely populated by six hypnotically nubile nude natives. Aptly named Randy Brent stars as the hapless Adam, sultrily beguiled by this bouncingly buxom bevy of blissfully boff-able babes. Should one be able to temporarily suspend one's disbelief for 60 cheesecake-stuffed minutes, the jocular text proves modestly mirthsome, I could never completely resist a sardonic, serially quipping mule, coupled with a perky panoply of permanently topless totty! What the tantalizingly titty-licious Adam and Six Eves lacked in profound intellectual substance is more than generously compensated by spectacularly voluptuous substance! On an entirely more subjective note, I thought the fabulously fulsome Fatima was a peach, even with her crooked witchy beak, and I manufactured additional amusement by pretending the disproving donkey was voiced by Peter Falk!

 The Commando (2022) – Asif Akbar.

A routine, mid-budget DTV shoot 'em up that is certainly enlivened by the charismatic presences of a seemingly ailing Mickey Rourke and agile Kung Fu phenomenon Michael Jai White. The mediocre plot is conspicuously recycled Seagal/Lundgren fare, wherein 'I got a bad feeling about this!' is said without irony, merely highlighting the literarily moribund text. Ex-jailbird, biker skell Johnny's (Rourke), violent attempts to reclaim ill-gotten loot, secretly stashed in PTSD stricken veteran James's (White) house concludes with predictably Fubar'd results. The action is competent, though not especially thrilling, whereas Michael Jai White's nuanced performance as a physically capable man struggling with debilitating mental health issues was sensitively portrayed, revealing a greater depth than many of his action hero peers. The Commando has a rather unhurried pace, the bloody climax being preceded by a gnarly home invasion, with handsome star Michael Jai White heroically protecting home and hearth with consummate brutality. I mostly enjoyed The Commando, my appreciation largely due to a continued fondness for Mickey Rourke, and a great admiration for Michael Jai White's prodigious martial arts prowess.

 The Necro Files (1997) – Matt Jaissle.

Following the gruesomely Blood Feastian slaughter of a nubile, the vile rapist's remains are cartoonishly reanimated by a Walmart Satanist in a knock-off Gwar outfit, thereby diabolically disgorging one of the most ghoulish goof-offs in S.O.V history. Bereft of even a minim of plausibility, Jaissel's exultantly trashy trawl through buckets of animal entrails, gratuitous gut-spillage, squirrelly performances, puerile perversity, and doggy-doo dialogue miraculously transmogrifies into a bat shit bonkers B-movie banger! The dime-store diabolism, spectacular crudity, trite TV Cop-isms, deliberate avoidance of nuance, and unrepentantly D.I.Y splatter FX, suggests that The Necro Files's infamy is despicably deserved! All that being said, this is plainly a case of preaching to the perverted, as some mainstream horror fans may baulk at Jaissle's relentlessly doofoid mise-en-scene.

The Necro Files dingily entertaining content proves that, on Blue Moon occasions, one can indeed make a Silk schlock purse from a cow's bloody ear! When a cheapnis chunk-blower revels so joyously in the absurdity of its premise, pointedly ridiculing credulity with the comedic ingress of a child's denuded doll, poorly masquerading as a wire-borne demon spawn, this is hugely deserving of our respect and admiration! A frustrating number of no-budget schlockers are merely turgid facsimiles of formula-flaccid Hollywooden slashers, whereas The Necro Files's continued popularity and preservation on HD is not only meritorious, it proves that John Water's immaculate credo of trusting one's own bad taste remains invaluable advice for any would-be splatter-maker!

 Twilight (Szurkulat) 1990 – Gyorgy Feher.

An uncommonly bleak, Bible black Hungarian thriller from 1990 that eerily seems to exist in a sinisterly primordial age all of its very own. A seasoned detective's search for a brutal serial child killer draws him inexorably into an obsessive manhunt which leads him ever deeper into a malign vortex of his very own increasingly tormented psyche. Twilight is a morbidly crepuscular, unhurried, almost wholly interior crime procedural, an existentialist nightmare which slowly envelops the spectator within a dense pall of creeping disquiet. An astonishing, absolutely unique iteration of a murder mystery, Gyorgy Feher's singular vision is strikingly visual, unsettling, yet never less than mesmerising. Utilizing his fluidic camera with consummate skill, the detective's expressly grim, psychologically devastating odyssey is illuminated in only the blackest of hues. An exquisite work of immaculately photographed doom, both manifestly human and utterly primal, breathtakingly beautiful and utterly profane. Films are actively voyeuristic, and if made especially skilfully, they momentarily turn us all into Peeping Toms, and some truly rarefied films, do the very opposite, they stare deeply into the viewer, pitilessly probing our viscera and brain flesh like a mortician; this is just such a paradigm shifting work. Feher's Twilight is quite unlike any crime film I can recall seeing, Jean Cocteau on tainted Ketamine, an unholy guttural shriek of despair condensed to the deathly smothering consistency of icy concrete.

 My Brother's Wife (1964) – Doris Wishman.

Doris Wishman's amusingly flat suburban melodrama isn't going to be anyone's idea of a Grindhouse Cassavetes, but this incorrigibly mucky movie matriarch has a degenerated appeal all of her own! Once younger, sleazier brother Frankie cynically boffs older brother's Bob's pretty neurotic wife, dormant passions are aroused, leading to one of cinema's most underappreciated, and splendidly inept brawls! My Brother's Wife features disgracefully overripe performances, 'actors' dully reciting their pedantic rhetoric like the arse end of a pantomime nag.

The dishwater dreary dialogue, artless B/W photography, seemingly arbitrary editing and noisome mondo-bongo soundtrack somehow coalesce in a bizarrely hypnotic fashion. Crude, sans finesse, hacked together with a butcher's cleaver, Wishman's leeringly lurid lens draws the attentions upon her shapely vixens compellingly nubile attributes. I still enjoy the contrived, almost disembodied vibe of My Brother's Wife, overwrought and deliriously inauthentic, feeling like some goofy teen photo-novel brought to luridly high-contrast life by beloved trash icon Wishman.

 Silent Action (1975) – Sergio Martino.

A number of wealthy, powerful men from the higher echelons of society are found dead, apparently of suicide, dogged inspector Solmi (Luc Merenda) is unconvinced, very soon exposing a bloody conspiracy that threatens to topple the nation's king makers. A smart, powerfully acted, tremendously exiting thriller, action-packed, and politically astute, Silent Action's gripping plot drives relentlessly forward with a Giallic intensity! Italian genre maestro Sergio Martino's compelling, masterfully muscular poliziotesco remains one of the very finest, absolutely timeless, prodigiously entertaining cinema, Silent Action's explosive central premise is certainly no less pertinent today.

 Secrets of a door-to-door salesman (1973) - Wolf Rilla.

Following the sudden death of his father, former Lobster catcher David (Brendan Price) excitedly makes for the big smoke, exchanging barnacled lobster pots for the no less salty business of getting his leg over as a randy vacuum cleaner salesman. While dramatically inane, this sporadically saucy suburban romp is gaudily replete with tepid gags, delightfully dubious double entendres, beautiful, implausibly promiscuous young dolly birds, and much flesh-tinted farcing about. A fitfully amusing retro romp, Brendan Price isn't altogether vacuous, and director Rilla avidly exploits the increasingly lax censorship laws, exposing a plenitude of full-frontal female nudity. While the drab interiors exude a sitcom-y blandness, the bracingly wintry London exteriors are pretty fab, dishy David's vintage, open-topped jalopy is an appealingly whimsical conveyance, with his zaftig German girlfriend  Martina (Jean Harrington) being equally easy on the eyes!

 The Shaolin Plot (1977) – Huang Feng.

With dazzling content, The Shaolin Plot remains yet another exemplary, compellingly fight-packed Kung Fu blockbuster from revered director Huang 'Hapkido' Feng. Murderously covetous, Machiavellian martial arts genius Prince Daglen (Chen Hsing) seeks dominion over the martial arts world, and his malign machinations culminates in a brutally kinetic showdown with rebellious Shaolin monks. The majestic fight chorography is by acclaimed maestro Sammo Hung, who also plays Daglen's henchmen with dastardly aplomb, gruesomely decapitating all those masters unwilling to divulge their closely-guarded ancestral secrets. Rousingly dramatic, lavishly designed, excitingly edited, and jam-packed with explosive action, The Shaolin Plot is vintage Kung Fu heaven, and you couldn't ask for a more memorable introduction to martial arts wonder Casanova Wong! On a far more personal note, finally being able to experience many of these beloved 'Fu gems in their Bobby Dazzled Blu-ray editions has, in many instances, proven to be nothing short of revelatory, the dynamic camerawork, colourful costumes, exquisite interiors and blitzkrieg beat-downs absolutely pop in HD!

 The Skyhawk (1974) – Jeong Chang-hwa.

Not long after revered martial arts master Skyhawk (Kwan Tak-hing) visits a beloved old friend, his earnest, troublesomely hot-headed students Fatty (Sammo hung) and Leo (Carter Wong) unthinkingly fall foul of a local hood, and his exceedingly bellicose side-kicker (Hwang in-shik), culminating in a series of bloody confrontations! A highly regarded 70s martial arts masterclass, The Skyhawk remains a spectacular showcase for veteran HK icon Kwan Tak-hing, with steely Carter Wong delivering an impressively forceful performance in the film's exhilarating climax! While the formula plot is undeniably familiar, the striking, lushly exotic Thai locations, superbly charismatic performances and electrifying kung fu are absolutely world class! Not only is The Skyhawk tremendously entertaining to watch, it has prodigious charm, along with ballistic displays of superbly orchestrated combat. I must confess that I often find myself in complete sympathy with the Kung Fu cognoscenti who rate certain essential kung fu titles far higher than others, especially since The Skyhawk is wholly deserving of its many ecstatic reviews!

 The Driver's Seat aka Identikit. (1974) – Giuseppe Petroni Griffi.

This eerily oblique, melancholic, compellingly non-linear psychodrama follows the fascinatingly unbalanced Lise (Elizabeth Taylor) as she obsessively circumnavigates Rome, desperately searching for a man who might satisfy her singularly twisted desires. Having both the depth of an especially rich character drama, and the darker schematics of a psychological thriller, it would be impossible to imagine anyone else portraying Lise, Elizabeth Taylor's bravura, utterly scintillating performance is no small part of the film's brilliance. While it is not absolutely unprecedented for an experimental, intellectually robust European thriller to veer so dramatically away from stock tropes, it is certainly rare to experience one that does so with such conspicuous style, authenticity, and psychological intensity as Identikit. While mesmerized by Elizabeth Taylor's lurid couture, and almost Promethean acting rigour, it is the emotionally complex, no less inspired narrative that is guaranteed to provide additional grist upon a more than essential second viewing. 

 Warm Nights & Hot Pleasures (1964) – Joseph Sarno.

Three naïve, exquisitely nubile young women seek fame and fortune in New York city, grimly discovering that their hopeful ascent to stardom first descends them into a sordid mire of increasingly sleazy misogyny. The distractingly delicious cast deliver engaging performances, and a shrill midnight jazz score accents the girl's frequently feral nocturnal encounters. As is so often the case, Joe Sarno excitingly populates his tantalizing, low-budget sin-pics with exotic, talented, breathtakingly beautiful women, and Warm Nights and Hot Pleasures is demonstratively no exception! I'm more than positive that Warm Nights and Hot Pleasures would have provided 60s smut-seekers with ample thrill-spillage, and seen today, this compelling expose of the seedy machinations fulminating beneath the veneered glitz of show business remains thoroughly captivating adult entertainment.