Two criminals come up against a horny sex cult in VERONICA'S KISS, a snoozy little apartment-bound one-day-wonder probably cranked out over the course of an afternoon.
Sammy (Marc Stevens) and Lenny (Ed Marshall) are the bandits, glimpsed quickly at the outset on the run from the law. Dashing up a fire escape, they first pass and briefly peep in on a fornicating mixed-combo couple (Candy Love and Alan Marlow), before creeping further up the steps and discovering another domicile that houses a female fertility cult that worships the goddess Kalitra (mostly by having sex). CJ Laing is their guru, and she leads the women in various dances in diaphanous robes while purloined sitar music plays. Eventually, the two guys get tired of watching and join in, with the women all too happy to incorporate them into their rituals.
Joe Sarno is listed as the director (I'm not sure based on what - the available version doesn't have any credits), but I have my doubts, as the film doesn't really match his style. It's certainly not somber like his B&W '60s melodramas, nor does it approach anything like the wacky schtick of A TOUCH OF GENIE, his best erotic comedy. Instead, it seems more like the type of silliness Shaun Costello and Ron Dorfman were cranking out in the mid-'70s, with a goofy, threadbare plot invariably leading to one major location and - in addition to all the fornicating - a lot of vamping and camping from the cast. This loopy quality only worsens as the film moves along, with the cult eventually sucking in (literally) a male cop (Levi Richards) looking for the criminals and consistently cross-cutting to the couple downstairs, who turn out to be the owners of the place that was robbed (off-camera) at the outset. The conclusion is an erratic chase around the apartment building, seemingly accomplished on a single floor just by changing the paper sign next to the elevator, as the Marlow and Love ride up and down, madly fornicating. It's certainly broad, but is it entertaining?
The answer is not terribly. While no more or less watchable than any other mid-level one-day wonder, the film is just coherent and competent enough to be tolerable, while nevertheless bogging down in extended sex scenes that test the audience's patience. Your mileage will vary depending on your like (or dislike) for certain performers, but to me, despite the hints of creativity, the overall result merely comes in this side of average. No matter who's responsible, I doubt it represents a career high-point.
Sammy (Marc Stevens) and Lenny (Ed Marshall) are the bandits, glimpsed quickly at the outset on the run from the law. Dashing up a fire escape, they first pass and briefly peep in on a fornicating mixed-combo couple (Candy Love and Alan Marlow), before creeping further up the steps and discovering another domicile that houses a female fertility cult that worships the goddess Kalitra (mostly by having sex). CJ Laing is their guru, and she leads the women in various dances in diaphanous robes while purloined sitar music plays. Eventually, the two guys get tired of watching and join in, with the women all too happy to incorporate them into their rituals.
Joe Sarno is listed as the director (I'm not sure based on what - the available version doesn't have any credits), but I have my doubts, as the film doesn't really match his style. It's certainly not somber like his B&W '60s melodramas, nor does it approach anything like the wacky schtick of A TOUCH OF GENIE, his best erotic comedy. Instead, it seems more like the type of silliness Shaun Costello and Ron Dorfman were cranking out in the mid-'70s, with a goofy, threadbare plot invariably leading to one major location and - in addition to all the fornicating - a lot of vamping and camping from the cast. This loopy quality only worsens as the film moves along, with the cult eventually sucking in (literally) a male cop (Levi Richards) looking for the criminals and consistently cross-cutting to the couple downstairs, who turn out to be the owners of the place that was robbed (off-camera) at the outset. The conclusion is an erratic chase around the apartment building, seemingly accomplished on a single floor just by changing the paper sign next to the elevator, as the Marlow and Love ride up and down, madly fornicating. It's certainly broad, but is it entertaining?
The answer is not terribly. While no more or less watchable than any other mid-level one-day wonder, the film is just coherent and competent enough to be tolerable, while nevertheless bogging down in extended sex scenes that test the audience's patience. Your mileage will vary depending on your like (or dislike) for certain performers, but to me, despite the hints of creativity, the overall result merely comes in this side of average. No matter who's responsible, I doubt it represents a career high-point.