Bethal Buckalew, who churned out such choice, often innocuous and brashly facetious country-themed 70's soft-core sizzlers as "The Dirty Mind of Young Sally," "Tobacco Roody," "Sassy Sue," and the uncharacteristically sadistic roughie "Below the Belt" for Harry Novak's unceasingly cut-rate schlock feature outfit Box Office International Pictures, rates as the poor man's Russ Meyer. Although Buckalew shares Meyer's penchant for broadly caricatured rustic settings and overdrawn hayseed stereotypes, as well as a similarly ribald'n'rowdy sense of rollicking redneck humor, Buckalew's invariably slapdash movies sorely lack the dazzling technical prowess and hopped-up vitality which makes Meyer's films such awe-inspiring treats. Still, it's the very crudeness and flagrant ineptitude of Buckalew's singularly stinky cinematic unskillfulness which gives his admittedly ham-fisted flicks a certain oddly endearing cruddy appeal. Think "Hee Haw" on Quaaludes with the asinine non sequitors intact, but the added attraction of comely naked down-home gals doing just what you think on a regular basis with hunky pea-brain yokel dudes and you'll have a good idea of what your average Buckalew romp is like.
This typically shoddy and witless comedic corn-pone soft-core item is an excellent example of what I'm talking about. All the essential Buckalew ingredients are present and accounted for: static cinematography, a boozy'n'woozy country swing score that sounds like it was done by a severely inebriated third-rate bar band, lethargic pacing, flat acting, dreadful dialogue, dumbbell comic relief Buckalew regular John Tull reprising his unforgettably fatuous part from "Sassy Sue" as Junior, a stuttering, muscular, lobotomized lunk with a deviant sexual appetite for farm animals (yuck!); corny good ol' boy humor, nice-looking women frequently doffing their duds (the gratuitous skinny-dipping scene qualifies as a definite steamy highlight), extremely crass jokes about marijuana, bestiality and interracial coitus, and, of coarse, a jaw-dropping plenitude of assorted sleazy soft-core sex scenes. Oh yeah -- and there's the faintest wisp of a so-called story: A shifty con man and his three tantalizing hot tramp lady friend accomplices put on a beauty contest at a cranky old crackpot geezer's seedy rundown abode. The only thing missing is George "Buck" Flower, but the terrifically trashy trio of luscious female leads more than carry the day on their own: slinky'n'saucy flaxen-tressed sexploitation veteran Monica Gayle (the traitorous Patch in Jack Hill's fantastic "Switchblade Sisters"), petite'n'perky brunette cutie pie Wendy Winders, and tall, leggy drink of dirty blonde water Judy Angel all strut their scorching sexy stuff with marvelously gleeful and uninhibited abandon. As with any given Bethal Buckalew opus, viewers are best advised to put their brains on hold prior to watching this flick in all its delightfully dopey'n'draggy dunced-out glory.
This typically shoddy and witless comedic corn-pone soft-core item is an excellent example of what I'm talking about. All the essential Buckalew ingredients are present and accounted for: static cinematography, a boozy'n'woozy country swing score that sounds like it was done by a severely inebriated third-rate bar band, lethargic pacing, flat acting, dreadful dialogue, dumbbell comic relief Buckalew regular John Tull reprising his unforgettably fatuous part from "Sassy Sue" as Junior, a stuttering, muscular, lobotomized lunk with a deviant sexual appetite for farm animals (yuck!); corny good ol' boy humor, nice-looking women frequently doffing their duds (the gratuitous skinny-dipping scene qualifies as a definite steamy highlight), extremely crass jokes about marijuana, bestiality and interracial coitus, and, of coarse, a jaw-dropping plenitude of assorted sleazy soft-core sex scenes. Oh yeah -- and there's the faintest wisp of a so-called story: A shifty con man and his three tantalizing hot tramp lady friend accomplices put on a beauty contest at a cranky old crackpot geezer's seedy rundown abode. The only thing missing is George "Buck" Flower, but the terrifically trashy trio of luscious female leads more than carry the day on their own: slinky'n'saucy flaxen-tressed sexploitation veteran Monica Gayle (the traitorous Patch in Jack Hill's fantastic "Switchblade Sisters"), petite'n'perky brunette cutie pie Wendy Winders, and tall, leggy drink of dirty blonde water Judy Angel all strut their scorching sexy stuff with marvelously gleeful and uninhibited abandon. As with any given Bethal Buckalew opus, viewers are best advised to put their brains on hold prior to watching this flick in all its delightfully dopey'n'draggy dunced-out glory.