Mind control is a subject that crops up from time to time in a variety of porn films - not terribly surprising, given its intrinsic potential to get girls to take their clothes off. It's a shame then that HUNGRY HYPNOTIST squanders its premise, getting bogged down in way too much filler and generic mystical hoo-ha to plumb the skeevy depths of its conceit.
Produced in 1971 – still pretty early by hardcore standards – HH opens with one of those hilarious, "socially redeeming" justification intros that trace their lineage back to nudist and sex hygiene pictures several decades prior. Over clips of a mystic with a crystal ball (who resembles Dukey Flyswatter in David DeCoteau's NIGHTMARE SISTERS) mixed with shots of sex action from the film to come, a narrator warns of the dangers of following charlatans and scam artists and trusting them with your mind and money. Playing much like the introduction to the similar supernatural sex flick DARK DREAMS, this opening is something I should have recognized as a bad omen, as much like that film, this one similarly gets all its social obligations out of the way up front before diving headlong into mindless fornication.
The film proper opens with a couple making love in a field. When they get home, the guy asks his girlfriend what she wants to do for her birthday that night, and she suggests going to see a hypnotist her friend recommended. As she discusses the situation from the shower, her boyfriend hops in with her and initiates another sex scene, rendering the first one (as gratuitous as it was to begin with) totally redundant and making the film feel unfocused and repetitive from the get-go.
At the hypnotist's place, he and *his* girlfriend discuss his work with past subjects, most of whom are now, the girlfriend states, raving nymphomaniacs. The guy suspects there's something wrong with his hypnotic drug, and takes the opportunity to test it out by slipping it in his girlfriend's Coke. Once she's in a trance, he has her flash back to a sexual encounter from earlier in her life, at an antique store.
By now we're nearly halfway through the film and the couple *still* hasn't arrived! When they finally get there, the hypnotist hands them a couple of spiked drinks and soon is launching into his mumbo-jumbo, less the type of pulp mind control that viewers were probably expecting than just drugging people and telling them to remember or imagine having sex. The girl reminisces about a tryst at her office, spurred on by her friend, the newly- minted nympho mentioned earlier. Then the hypnotist's girlfriend has her imagine a sexual fantasy where she is a ballerina making love in her dressing room. A minor, minor, minor twist ending can be seen coming a mile away and is as boring as it is pro forma – a good way of describing the film as a whole.
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