Michael and Roberta Findlay were mavericks of sleaze in the sixties, and this no-budget carbuncle is a prime example of their particular brand of sicko cinema. Basically a series of sexual scenarios enacted in grimy tenement settings, strung together with some arty, purple narration, this flick tries hard to cover up it's low-rent limitations with pseudo-sophisticated poetry. There's something about a destitute man spying on a female neighbor as she whiles away her time masturbating and lounging around her squalid apartment naked. Throw in a lesbian sequence and wino making homosexual passes, and you have a guilty pleasure of seediness. Not quite as extreme as some of the other Findlay product known to exist, but definitely a walk on the scuzzy side.
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