Lame and fleeting storyline of JEANIE'S MAGIC BOX has a crackpot professor/magician wearing phony mustache and fright wig playing with a tiny magic box, which with a puff of smoke conjures up the lovely Becky Sharpe. No, it isn't "Vanity Fair" time but just the umpteenth takeoff on Barbara Eden's TV series.
She grants the prof a wish and brings forth Helen of Troy, in the form of Joannie Bunns. Joannie has a fabulous figure but can't read lines to save her life, and after giving him a blow job is rejected by the prof.
He exiles her to the bedroom to service his nerdy assistant, a goof who looks about 15, while Muzak-ized "Aquarius" plays briefly on the soundtrack. A second blond nerd, also looking distinctly underage enters for threesome action and a double penetration. These two guys may be minors but they deliver the goods in Peter North money shots.
The prof only has eyes for Jeanie, but she warns him against sex with her, instead bringing forth Lady Godiva, an unidentified actress who is not exactly a paper bag case but is homely with a lousy build. She is immediately sent to service the nerds by the picky prof.
Frustrated genie goes to the future next, bringing in Suzanne Fields as Futura. She's got a terrific overall tan and is oiled up to boot, but prof sends her to the peanut gallery too, for nerd sex in the bathroom, including in a full bathtub.
Predictable payoff has Jeanie finally condescending to service the prof herself, hampered by the anonymous filmmakers' penchant for repeating footage to stretch and pad this junker. After all of Jeanie's blather about some unspecified danger, we get a non-ending.
After Hours issued this from a nice quality print, but apparently did their usual Weinstein-style tinkering. Many musical cues start up throughout the film but only play for about five seconds each, with the musical track removed, apparently since the AHC weenies have a much-publicized fear of copyright infringement litigation (hey guys, it never stopped Mike at Something Weird who you're copycatting in dredging up all this generic porn). So what we have is dead silence plus some ultra-fake groaning and porn-talk dubbed over.
Fields and Sharpe make it worth watching, as well as seeing Bunns' spectacular rack. However, the moronic geeks cast to please pederast chicken hawks in the audience were a major turnoff for me. They should have just hired John Seeman and Keith Erickson like everybody else did in this time frame.
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