It took until the DVD era for the late "Zebedy Colt" a/k/a Edward Earle Marsh to be recognized as the demented dirty movie auteur a growing group of very vocal "old school" fornication film fans nowadays regard him as, nourishing his burgeoning post mortem cult via sustained blog raving and ranting, attracting instant cognoscenti on a regular basis. Though I agree that Colt churned out an intriguing body of work in the face of dire adversity, frequently lumbered with shoe-string budgets on the outer limits of what was already a fringe industry, it would be ill-advised to go overboard in praising an idiosyncratic yet frustratingly uneven talent for accomplishments compromised for more reasons than mere lack of funds. His wildly unpredictable life proved a greater work of art than anything he managed to put up on the screen. For more biographical info, allow me to direct you to my comment on his AFFAIRS OF JANICE, itself a textbook example of its perpetrator's perpetual reaching for the stars while lying in the gutter, to quote dear dead Oscar Wilde.
Colt mostly slaved away for the storefront contingent, a storefront being an improvised adult "theater", usually a darkened room at the back of a dingy sex shop, a widespread '70s phenomenon and poor backwards cousin to the comparative luster of the Pussycat porno palaces, forever in need of cheap generic plot-lite potboilers. In order to make himself stand out from a crowd of anonymous pornographers, he embarked on something of a personal crusade to cover the type of sensationalist subject matter that "Porno Chic" producers wouldn't touch with a 10 inch pole. This provides a peculiar reflection of the pre-war Hollywood hierarchy when poverty row studios would draw inspiration from lurid tabloid headlines in order to compete with the majors, but I digress.
Shot in all likelihood over the course of a single day in 1975, the extremely minimalist to the point of deconstruction TERRI'S REVENGE! boasts as its sole asset the presence of ascending adult film superstar Terri Hall, undoubtedly accosted by the director as they were filming Gerard Damiano's masterpiece STORY OF JOANNA earlier that year. A consummate masochist, Hall proved a natural for Colt's peculiar brand of unflinching brutality and was to star in several of his twisted concoctions. As the starry-eyed wife of assumed nice guy Chad (sleazy Chad Lambert, also appearing in Colt's considerably more ambitious DEVIL INSIDE HER and UNWILLING LOVERS), she gets a reality check of the nastiest kind when her husband leaves her alone to "take care" of business partner Bill, portrayed by Peter Andrews whose considerable girth in the groin area kept him gainfully employed throughout the decade, most memorably servicing the titular stars in the Joe Sarno profile pics INSIDE JENNIFER WELLES and ALL ABOUT GLORIA LEONARD. Just as Terri expects her returning spouse to rush to her rescue, he drops his trousers and makes it a threesome instead. Men are indeed pigs.
Teaming up with an unidentified British girl who suffered the same fate, Terri invades the head-quarter of W.A.R. (Women Against Rape) to surreptitiously gather info on suspected sex offenders. In a spirit of prevailing justice, the two of them decide to give every bit as good as they got by submitting the scumbags to enforced rectal dildo reaming and testicular torture amid much verbal abuse ! The plot - Where ?! - thickens when Terri picks up undercover cop Lt. Henderson, played by a scruffily good-looking Latino type, cruising the waterfront (as a straight guy ???) and literally puts him through the wringer, wiring his balls so tight that he can enter her with them in what easily stands as the film's most imaginative sexual feat, almost a full decade prior to Alan Adrian's similar accomplishment with Sharon Kane in Ron Sullivan's kinky G-STRINGS.
Ominous voice-over narration delivered by a booming baritone longtime genre fans will recognize as belonging to the director who, uncharacteristically, chose not to appear on camera this time - more's the pity as his maniacal thespian stylings might have juiced up a flick that even at under an hour manages to drag in spots - informs us that the policeman subsequently vanished without a trace and issues out a warning for the male populace to beware of propositioning females ! Outrageous elements such as these seem to suggest that Colt was aiming for sick laughs, all but lost in the rushed thrift-store approach.
A fascinating personality who, like Colt, hailed from the "real world" of art, a former ballet dancer who turned to pornography to satisfy her "unacceptable" sexual cravings, the always tricky to photograph Hall looks not unlike a particularly predatory drag queen here, her chalky complexion smeared with scarlet streaks of rouge in dramatic contrast with that shock of jet-black hair, equal parts Goth girl and gay vampire. Though the director was to draw a decent performance out of her in his CRUCIBLE variation THE DEVIL INSIDE HER, he obviously left her pretty much to her own devices here, forcing her to fall back on the exaggerated school play patterns that already marred some of her most intense moments on JOANNA. Still, she's Sarah Bernhardt compared to the other chick whose plummy Limey clipped tones are at least good for a chuckle when she's delivering the dirty talk.
Colt mostly slaved away for the storefront contingent, a storefront being an improvised adult "theater", usually a darkened room at the back of a dingy sex shop, a widespread '70s phenomenon and poor backwards cousin to the comparative luster of the Pussycat porno palaces, forever in need of cheap generic plot-lite potboilers. In order to make himself stand out from a crowd of anonymous pornographers, he embarked on something of a personal crusade to cover the type of sensationalist subject matter that "Porno Chic" producers wouldn't touch with a 10 inch pole. This provides a peculiar reflection of the pre-war Hollywood hierarchy when poverty row studios would draw inspiration from lurid tabloid headlines in order to compete with the majors, but I digress.
Shot in all likelihood over the course of a single day in 1975, the extremely minimalist to the point of deconstruction TERRI'S REVENGE! boasts as its sole asset the presence of ascending adult film superstar Terri Hall, undoubtedly accosted by the director as they were filming Gerard Damiano's masterpiece STORY OF JOANNA earlier that year. A consummate masochist, Hall proved a natural for Colt's peculiar brand of unflinching brutality and was to star in several of his twisted concoctions. As the starry-eyed wife of assumed nice guy Chad (sleazy Chad Lambert, also appearing in Colt's considerably more ambitious DEVIL INSIDE HER and UNWILLING LOVERS), she gets a reality check of the nastiest kind when her husband leaves her alone to "take care" of business partner Bill, portrayed by Peter Andrews whose considerable girth in the groin area kept him gainfully employed throughout the decade, most memorably servicing the titular stars in the Joe Sarno profile pics INSIDE JENNIFER WELLES and ALL ABOUT GLORIA LEONARD. Just as Terri expects her returning spouse to rush to her rescue, he drops his trousers and makes it a threesome instead. Men are indeed pigs.
Teaming up with an unidentified British girl who suffered the same fate, Terri invades the head-quarter of W.A.R. (Women Against Rape) to surreptitiously gather info on suspected sex offenders. In a spirit of prevailing justice, the two of them decide to give every bit as good as they got by submitting the scumbags to enforced rectal dildo reaming and testicular torture amid much verbal abuse ! The plot - Where ?! - thickens when Terri picks up undercover cop Lt. Henderson, played by a scruffily good-looking Latino type, cruising the waterfront (as a straight guy ???) and literally puts him through the wringer, wiring his balls so tight that he can enter her with them in what easily stands as the film's most imaginative sexual feat, almost a full decade prior to Alan Adrian's similar accomplishment with Sharon Kane in Ron Sullivan's kinky G-STRINGS.
Ominous voice-over narration delivered by a booming baritone longtime genre fans will recognize as belonging to the director who, uncharacteristically, chose not to appear on camera this time - more's the pity as his maniacal thespian stylings might have juiced up a flick that even at under an hour manages to drag in spots - informs us that the policeman subsequently vanished without a trace and issues out a warning for the male populace to beware of propositioning females ! Outrageous elements such as these seem to suggest that Colt was aiming for sick laughs, all but lost in the rushed thrift-store approach.
A fascinating personality who, like Colt, hailed from the "real world" of art, a former ballet dancer who turned to pornography to satisfy her "unacceptable" sexual cravings, the always tricky to photograph Hall looks not unlike a particularly predatory drag queen here, her chalky complexion smeared with scarlet streaks of rouge in dramatic contrast with that shock of jet-black hair, equal parts Goth girl and gay vampire. Though the director was to draw a decent performance out of her in his CRUCIBLE variation THE DEVIL INSIDE HER, he obviously left her pretty much to her own devices here, forcing her to fall back on the exaggerated school play patterns that already marred some of her most intense moments on JOANNA. Still, she's Sarah Bernhardt compared to the other chick whose plummy Limey clipped tones are at least good for a chuckle when she's delivering the dirty talk.