In this movie, every woman is perceived as a sexual object and every man as an ogling deviant. It feels like something a dirty-trenchcoated man would conjure up, but because it's the work of Doris Wishman, the material seems more subversive, like it's trying to make a statement.
Still, even if it is, this movie is just gross. The plot is that a guy murders a woman, rapes a bunch of other women, and is evidently on the run although not trying very hard to hide. A hardboiled detective is on the case, interviewing each rape victim in great detail while leering at their legs.
Larry Hunter's performance as Detective Barlen is something to behold. Not once does his facial expression match what's being said to him. He constantly raises his eyebrows quizzically and he seems befuddled by statements like "Come in" and "I just made coffee." I assume Wishman filmed a selection of reaction shots and then ADR'd the soundtrack, which explains why the last ten minutes, with the killer confessing his crimes, consist of two actors covering their faces while their dialog is superimposed.
Spoiler: The killer was a nebbishy virgin who envied his lothario buddy Felix. When he learns Felix is ill, he convinces a not-terribly-ethical surgeon to transplant Felix's--y'know--to his groin. Judging from the plentiful sex scenes, the surgeon did the killer no favors, since the member in question is perpetually detumescent, although the actors attempt to indicate otherwise.
This movie does feature one of the great closing lines, right up there with Casablanca: "Come on. Maybe I can help. I dunno what I can do but maybe I can do something. Come on. Let's go." Need I say more. Need I say more.
Still, even if it is, this movie is just gross. The plot is that a guy murders a woman, rapes a bunch of other women, and is evidently on the run although not trying very hard to hide. A hardboiled detective is on the case, interviewing each rape victim in great detail while leering at their legs.
Larry Hunter's performance as Detective Barlen is something to behold. Not once does his facial expression match what's being said to him. He constantly raises his eyebrows quizzically and he seems befuddled by statements like "Come in" and "I just made coffee." I assume Wishman filmed a selection of reaction shots and then ADR'd the soundtrack, which explains why the last ten minutes, with the killer confessing his crimes, consist of two actors covering their faces while their dialog is superimposed.
Spoiler: The killer was a nebbishy virgin who envied his lothario buddy Felix. When he learns Felix is ill, he convinces a not-terribly-ethical surgeon to transplant Felix's--y'know--to his groin. Judging from the plentiful sex scenes, the surgeon did the killer no favors, since the member in question is perpetually detumescent, although the actors attempt to indicate otherwise.
This movie does feature one of the great closing lines, right up there with Casablanca: "Come on. Maybe I can help. I dunno what I can do but maybe I can do something. Come on. Let's go." Need I say more. Need I say more.