Barbara Jean Moore (Stacey Walker) was a dropout from Texas who, while vacating in Santa Monica, was discovered on a beach one afternoon by cigar-chomping sexploitation producer, Dave Friedman who decided to cast her in the title role for his latest picture THE NOTORIOUS DAUGHTER OF FANNY HILL (1965). Pleased by her acting skills (and looks I suppose), he casted her in this as well as a nudist camp short. A Paramount executive saw some of the films and was eager to run an interview with Walker but while Friedman went looking for her she had already gone back to Texas. So for all we know Miss Walker could have become a big Hollywood name!
In A SMELL OF HONEY, she plays Sharon, a sexy, sadistic office worker who teases men to their limits and screams "rape" once she's done. "Roughies" had become big in the adults-only film industry so Sharon gets what she deserves from some horny b*stards towards the end.
The cinematography was by the great Lazlo Kovacs so you can always keep yourself occupied during the 71 minutes just admiring the b/w visuals. It's slow in spots and ends abruptly (may be the print) but for a post-BLOOD FEAST Dave Friedman film, it's not bad. Walker's twangy accent and an equelly twangy, reaccuring tune by Et-Cetra (which you're sure to be humming in your head after viewing) strangely creates some kind of rural, southern feeling to the film (don't expect Russ Meyer, though). For a more slappy, enjoyable Dave Friedman experience try THE ACID EATERS (1968).
In A SMELL OF HONEY, she plays Sharon, a sexy, sadistic office worker who teases men to their limits and screams "rape" once she's done. "Roughies" had become big in the adults-only film industry so Sharon gets what she deserves from some horny b*stards towards the end.
The cinematography was by the great Lazlo Kovacs so you can always keep yourself occupied during the 71 minutes just admiring the b/w visuals. It's slow in spots and ends abruptly (may be the print) but for a post-BLOOD FEAST Dave Friedman film, it's not bad. Walker's twangy accent and an equelly twangy, reaccuring tune by Et-Cetra (which you're sure to be humming in your head after viewing) strangely creates some kind of rural, southern feeling to the film (don't expect Russ Meyer, though). For a more slappy, enjoyable Dave Friedman experience try THE ACID EATERS (1968).