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You'll watch wide eyed as the most prominent erotically talented performers bring sensuous realism to their sexual couplings and erotic play. It's unforgettable! Put on a Raincoat to cover up that boner,Bud!
Joseph F. Robertson
Something of a hybrid between the happy go lucky silliness Bill Milling adopted whenever working as "Dexter Eagle" and his more serious thematic concerns as "Philip Drexler Jr.", VIRGIN SNOW shapes up as an accurately observed social sketch of the shifting dynamics within a small circle of comfortably middle class friends akin to much of Joe Sarno's '70s output. Although its ostensible premise appears to be college graduate Virginia's troubled quest for orgasm, the story takes a much more compelling turn once the action moves to Eagle Mountain ski lodge, with the introduction of Sally's slutty sister Marilyn as intimate interloper.
Framing the drama, unfolding in flashback, is the potentially awkward situation wherein the charmingly neurotic Virginia (unsung Jenny Baxter, Gloria Leonard's hick cousin from Radley Metzger's MARASCHINO CHERRY) has been unwittingly set up on a blind date with her college professor Victor Ashton (Eric Edwards) by well-meaning best friends Sally and Clint. Since they apparently already informed him of her precarious sexual track record, Virginia figures she might as well tell the whole story, especially since the snow-strewn scape's of Brooklyn Heights (when she comments on its loveliness, Victor quips "it even covers up the garbage") precludes their going out anyway. A montage of male inadequacy fills in the blanks with early spurt Jeff Hurst, self-possessed Lothario John Leslie and acid-dropping David Savage, the latter most interesting with distorting wide angle lenses and slow motion giving a slightly drawn out feel to the characters' movements.
One of those annoyingly happy couples, right down to completing each other's sentences while laughing at private jokes, Sally and Clint are pitch-perfectly portrayed by a pair of porn's most underrated thesps. Diminutive diva with less than a dozen appearances to her name, Hope Stockton left an indelible impression as the mentally unbalanced Kate in Sarno's superlative SLIPPERY WHEN WET and projects much of that just below the surface inner turmoil here as well, often conveyed through a single telltale glance. Roger Caine fortunately leaves behind most of the grandstanding macho bluster he intermittently employed to steal scenes from more timidly tongue-tied screen partners, effectively papering over the cracks in many a single sentence scenario with irresistible high camp bravado. Taking it down a notch, he allows Hope to blossom which only benefits their carnal chemistry in a beautifully shot boudoir tussle, hauntingly scored with The Mamas and the Papas' "Dream a Little Dream of Me" !
Enter Sally's "baby sister" (or "sister who's a babe" as she corrects Clint) Marilyn, played with groin-grabbing gusto by Jean Jennings in-between career performances in Armand Weston's awesome DEFIANCE and the Mitchell Brothers' lavish AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FLEA. Casting lookalikes Stockton and Jennings, the latter about a foot taller (making her tower over her emotionally insecure sibling), as sisters proved a stroke of genius. A lengthy intricate sequence, taking place amidst much excellent ski footage, shows Sally sneaking up on her adulterous mate and snake of a sister as they make out in the snow, with an absolutely shattering close-up of Stockton's expressive face registering betrayal, superbly set to a track from Maurice Jarre's legendary soundtrack for David Lean's epic DOCTOR ZHIVAGO whose schmaltzy theme tune serves to accompany Sally's preceding precarious ski lift blow job on hapless Henry, the lovable klutz who imagines himself a cock-smith, played with befuddled bemusement by Bob Bolla once again displaying expert comic timing.
His trip to the emergency ward at the mercy of Vanessa Del Rio's voracious Nurse Ratched (Milos Forman's ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST was still scoring across the nation) takes the film back to fever pitch zaniness with double-teaming doctors David Innis and Robert T. Fish (both from BLONDE VELVET) and a nympho roommate who can't help touching herself (one shot Honey Springfield with a thick New Yawk accent), Henry's intended ravishment of which is rudely interrupted by her jealous boyfriend, played by creepy bearded Rod Dumont, Satan from Zebedy Colt's mind-blowing DEVIL INSIDE HER ! Rounding out the roundelay is easy-going security officer Ben who hails from Texas, effectively excusing Sonny Landham's Southern drawl. More meat for the orgy that - surprisingly - still doesn't ring Virginia's bells (her tearful soliloquy at scene's end providing another haunting touch), he rises above such utilitarian casting with an effortlessly charming turn. Bearing in mind the film's framing device, it makes sense that the experienced Edwards would hold the key to unleash Baxter's backed-up sexuality, their tender tryst a pleasing capper to an itinerary far more compelling than initially appeared.
Movie's tonal shifts from soul-searching drama to frantic farce and back again might make for strange viewing, average adult audiences perpetually kept on their toes, unsure how to respond. Script's credited to the director and one "Kang T. Kruel" who also wrote Milling's pulp parody BLONDE GODDESS and can thus safely be considered responsible for the funny stuff. His double duty as the film's composer makes one wonder just how much credence should be attached to adult film credits anyway. Apart from the aforementioned borrowed bits, there are a number of pretty good original songs by a band called Messiah, mixing funky dance grooves with country and folk influences. Title tune's a particular humdinger, performed live during the Silver Dollar Saloon sequence (Landham's idea of "bringing the South to the slopes") with Jennings taking to the stage and ostensibly warbling away - if she's lipsynched, you can't tell - with the band providing smooth close harmony backing vocals.
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