Playing very much like a real film of the era, Gorton's Hall directed a well-written and well-performed light-hearted fantasy in the Ghost genre. Catching it four decades later (via Bijou DVD) is a relief from the hard-edged approach to Adult Entertainment as practiced today.
Jerry & Cass are roommates and lovers, but one day when Cass drives off on an errand to buy cigarettes we hear that old radio station sound effect of a car crash (beloved by comical AM deejays back in the day) and Cass is dead. Two years later Jerry has a new roommate Ted, but Cass's pesky ghost comes back to haunt Jerry.
That very simple premise is the springboard for some effective comedy, a modicum of "Topper" inspired special effects as the chain-smoking ghost materializes or chooses to be invisible at will -often only Jerry can see him. Lots of hardcore boy/boy sex is the purpose of the film, enacted bareback with imaginative photography and an emphasis on blow jobs.
Main subplot is sentimental and effective: college student Billy was a pal of our heroes, and is upset because his mom (a fine character performance by Gena Powers) plans to remarry. Billy becomes involved sexually with the ghost, who poses as a new character named Jim. Final reel sex montage, featuring flashy split-screen technique that was popular back in the '60s after "Grand Prix" was released, confused me at first, as we have Cass humping Jerry cross-cut with Jim humping Billy, same actor Roy Clark (this one can't sing) playing both roles and adding to the confusion the casting of Clark and Glenn Brock as Jerry has near-lookalikes in the roles. Jimmy Hughes as Ted, by far the weakest actor in the bunch, also has his sex scenes with the principals, and two extraneous guys with mustaches (played by Tom Winston and Ralph Martin) are clumsily introduced in an extraneous sex scene as filler.
I always enjoy the ripoff of record albums in these vintage sex films, and this time Hall first steals Stevie Wonder's "Superstition" for transition footage backing, and later rather astoundingly plays Ennio Morricone's delightful soundtrack from "Duck, You Sucker" for at least half an hour, providing both comedy relief as well as romantic moods with that Leone Western's famous "Sean, Sean, Sean" vocalese ballad.
Jerry & Cass are roommates and lovers, but one day when Cass drives off on an errand to buy cigarettes we hear that old radio station sound effect of a car crash (beloved by comical AM deejays back in the day) and Cass is dead. Two years later Jerry has a new roommate Ted, but Cass's pesky ghost comes back to haunt Jerry.
That very simple premise is the springboard for some effective comedy, a modicum of "Topper" inspired special effects as the chain-smoking ghost materializes or chooses to be invisible at will -often only Jerry can see him. Lots of hardcore boy/boy sex is the purpose of the film, enacted bareback with imaginative photography and an emphasis on blow jobs.
Main subplot is sentimental and effective: college student Billy was a pal of our heroes, and is upset because his mom (a fine character performance by Gena Powers) plans to remarry. Billy becomes involved sexually with the ghost, who poses as a new character named Jim. Final reel sex montage, featuring flashy split-screen technique that was popular back in the '60s after "Grand Prix" was released, confused me at first, as we have Cass humping Jerry cross-cut with Jim humping Billy, same actor Roy Clark (this one can't sing) playing both roles and adding to the confusion the casting of Clark and Glenn Brock as Jerry has near-lookalikes in the roles. Jimmy Hughes as Ted, by far the weakest actor in the bunch, also has his sex scenes with the principals, and two extraneous guys with mustaches (played by Tom Winston and Ralph Martin) are clumsily introduced in an extraneous sex scene as filler.
I always enjoy the ripoff of record albums in these vintage sex films, and this time Hall first steals Stevie Wonder's "Superstition" for transition footage backing, and later rather astoundingly plays Ennio Morricone's delightful soundtrack from "Duck, You Sucker" for at least half an hour, providing both comedy relief as well as romantic moods with that Leone Western's famous "Sean, Sean, Sean" vocalese ballad.