The Curse Of Her Flesh (Michael Findlay, 1968)

He's back! Everyone's favourite eye-patch-wearing, misogynist, spurned weapons expert turned deranged serial killer is back. What's that? You say he was killed with a crossbow at the end of the previous chapter? That can't be right. Oh, wait a minute. Come to think of it, I do recall a woman with substantial junk in her trunk wielding a crossbow during the film's climatic showdown. Well, the crossbow arrow to the chest clearly had little effect on his ability to stalk and kill strippers, go-go dancers and prostitutes, as he's up to his old tricks in The Curse of Her Flesh, the Michael Findlay-directed film that guarantees to have thick, not even close to being malnourished thighs encased in stockings or your money back. Sure, you're going to have to wade through a heck of a lot of softcore groping in order to be exposed by these stocking encased delights, but trust me, the hardship you endure is well worth it. As a reward for your patience, there's even a third act pantyhose moment that sort of just comes out of nowhere. Almost as if to say: Hey, all you perverts out there. We're terribly sorry for all the softcore groping you have had to experience over the past seventy or so minutes. And to show our appreciation for your Herculean brand of stoicism in the face of so much softcore groping, he's a quick shot of Eve Bork removing her tan pantyhose. I know, you would probably much rather see Sally Farb removing her tan pantyhose, but Miss Bork's the best we could do on short notice. Enjoy!

Now, the scenario I just created most likely never happened. However, that doesn't mean that every sleazy moment that occurs in this, or any of the films in the Flesh Trilogy, wasn't meticulously thought-out in advance.

It's true, The Curse of Her Flesh features only one instance where a garter belt is removed from a go-go dancer's waist and tossed gingerly to floor. Whereas, The Touch of Her Flesh boasts a total of four instances where garter belts are tossed gingerly to floor. That doesn't mean the film is deficient when it comes to women in garter belts. Far from it. In fact, the garter belt worn by Sally Farb gives off tiny flashes of light. Meaning, it possesses the power of four garter belts!

I'm well aware that what I just said might not make a lot of sense, but once you see what kind of damage Sally Farb can cause while wearing a garter belt covered in sequins, you will agree that I'm right.

When I saw the opening credits for The Touch of Her Flesh projected onto the naked body of Roberta Findlay, I thought to myself: That's how you make people pay attention to something as stuffy as an opening credits sequence. The question on everyone's mind as The Curse of Her Flesh gets underway is not the number of garter belts they will be basking in over the course of the film, but how will they (the Findlay's) top the opening credits from the first chapter?

Since there's no way they can top them, they can still make them memorable. And boy are they... memorable, that is. Crudely written in black marker on the wall of the men's room of a strip club, the camera slowly pans across the wall (stopping to reveal credits every now and then) to the sound of a man urinating. I don't know 'bout you, but I think these credits perfectly sum up the trashy nature of these films (check it out, someone crossed out a swastika and replaced it with a hammer and sickle). This might come across as odd, but I can't wait to see what they (the Findlay's) come up with, credits-wise, for the third and final chapter.

If you remember correctly, when we last saw Richard Jennings he was chopping his cheating wife's head off with a table saw. Well, after a brief recap of the events from the previous chapter in the Richard Jennings saga (one that is factually inaccurate), we learn that everyone's favourite woman-hating psychopath is now hiding out in a threatre. In fact, I think he might even own the theatre. But he also wears a fake beard and pretends to be the janitor on occasion. It's complicated.

I don't know 'bout you, but I think the decision to open the movie with a scene that features Sally Farb dancing erotically in vivacious lingerie was the correct one. Sure, her character has nothing really to do with the plot, but I could watch her bump and grind for hours. I hope we see more of her as the film progresses (fingers crossed).

Okay, now I know why Jennings is wearing a fake beard and pretending to be a janitor, that's his public persona. You see, he doesn't want anyone to know that he's "Richard Jennings," the man wanted in connection with over a dozen gruesome homicides. And he definitely doesn't want Steve Blakely (Ron Skideri), a struggling actor who shows up at the theatre for an audition, to know his identity, as he's the guy, if you remember, he caught groping his voluptuous wife. As Steve is in the men's room, a bearded Jennings pulls out a sword from the handle of his cane and is about to stab the unsuspecting actor in the back. But he doesn't, as he's got something especially heinous planned for Steve.

In the meantime, Steve recites a bizarre monologue in the vicinity of a fall-out shelter while two curvy chicks dance to rhythm and blues music in stockings and g-strings made out of money. I'm still trying to get my head around the scene, as it doesn't seem to make any sense. Are the curvy chicks in the fall-out shelter the women Steve's character is looking for? Ah, you know what? It doesn't matter.

One of the curvy chicks, Adele (Jane Bond), is approached while sitting at a bar by a... Oh shit! Run, curvy chick, run! That's Richard Jennings! Of course, she doesn't know what Jennings looks like, and politely declines his offer to buy her a drink. Her attitude changes, however, when Jennings introduces himself as Joe Davidson, the owner of the theatre she was just performing her strobe light-assisted lingerie dance.

And before you know it, the two are having drinks back at her place. Look at the way Adele sits with her legs crossed while chatting with Jennings/Davidson, it's absolutely sublime.

At any rate, you won't believe the manner in which Jennings decides to dispatch Adele. I'll just say three words: Poisoned cat paws.

The next scene is rather long, but since it boasts Linda Boyce in black lingerie and black boots whipping a bound Uta Erickson on a smoky stage, I'll let its excessive length slide.

After she's finished whipping her, Linda Boyce, or I should say, Stella, begins to lick Uta's whip marks. After removing her black bra with a switchblade, Stella proceeds to hike down her zebra print panties. As she's doing this, Uta would periodically cry out for more.

When the shows over, Stella heads backstage to hang out with, you guessed it, Jennings. (Hang out?) You're right. What I should have said was make out, as Stella straddles Jennings (who she knows as Davidson) for quite some time.

"Do you know what a dildo is?" And with that question, Stella is sent on a secret mission, a secret lesbian mission. Remember Adele's co-star in the strobe light-assisted lingerie dance? Well, Jennings sends Stella over to her apartment to seduce her. After taking a bath together, the lesbian action quickly moves to the bedroom. Getting on top of her, Stella begins to prod the cunt attached to Adele's co-star with a dildo. Looking down mid-prod, however, Stella is horrified when realizes that this is no ordinary dildo. You could say, it's an Armageddon dildo.

In order to take care of Stella and her co-star, Jennings laces their g-strings with a substance that unleashes a poison when mixed with vaginal secretions.

Giving new meaning to the expression, "leggy tour de force," Sally Farb continues the perform the routine we saw her giving at the beginning of the film. Utilizing her stocking-encased legs in ways I didn't think possible, Sally knows exactly how to work an audience into a psycho-sexual frenzy. If I had my druthers, the whole film would have been nothing but Sally Farb stripping from start to finish.

To complete his masterpiece, Jennings sets in motion an elaborate plan to kill Steve Blakely by employing the help of his new wife Paula (Eve Bork). It's a complicated plan, one that involves squash porn, tan pantyhose, a spear gun, a cheap room divider and a machete. (Wait, did you say, "squash porn"?) Yep, you read right, squash porn is an integral part of Jennings' plan. While the squash porn definitely came out of left field, the machete fight on the back of a moving truck was the film's biggest surprise.

Despite the fact that Jennings' eye-patch seems to disappear randomly during the melee, the machete fight on the back of a moving truck was an unexpected treat. I mean, up until this point, the film has already given us everything one could want from a motion picture. But to give us a machete fight on the back of a moving truck as well? Bravo, Michael Findlay. Bravo!

The Touch of Her Flesh (Michael Findlay, 1967)

You know how some movies act as comfort food? Everyone has them. They're certain films that are always there for you whenever you need them in a pinch, and, as of right now, I'd say Richard Elfman's Forbidden Zone is a film that currently occupies that spot as my go-to slab of cinematic comfort food. Well, I would classify The Touch of Her Flesh by Michael and Roberta Findlay as a sort of break glass in case of emergency type of film. Let me explain. You see, I was all set to devour a film by a porn director whose been called the heir apparent to Rinse Dream. Excited to finally watch one of his films, I knew right off the bat that this was a bad idea. It was so antiseptic and bland. Fake boobs, no lingerie, cheesy mid-'90s techno music, it was awful. Now, I don't want to mention his name (feel free to guess if you want - and I tell you if you're right), but I will say that the experience left me somewhat shaken. Since I ended up fast-forwarding through most of it, I was able to free up a huge of chunk of time. Meaning, there was still a chance to salvage the evening. I know, why I didn't go outside and play instead. I'll tell you why, I had a hankering for sleaze, and no insipid piece of pompous pornography was going to prevent me from getting my pervert on.

Looking over the modest pile of unwatched movies sitting on my coffee table, I set about choosing my sleaze. Anyone care to guess what was on the top of the pile? That's right, first chapter in the Flesh Trilogy, the Findlay's epic journey into the mind of a deranged serial killer who targets go-go dancers, strippers and prostitutes. Grabbing it without fail, I put it on and hoped it would remove the foul taste of mid-90s pornography that was still lingering in my mouth.

As the fleshy opening credits began to throb and heave across the screen in not-so glorious black and white, I felt a profound sense of relief wash over me. Now this is sexy, I thought to myself, as the titles cleverly appeared all over  Roberta Findlay's shapely bits and pieces.

It's just a hunch, but I think the crossbow Richard Jennings (Michael Findlay) is playing with at the beginning of the film will probably be employed later down the road.

Anyway, as he's about to catch a train to Boston, Richard says goodbye to his wife, Claudia Jennings (Angelique - I don't need no stinkin' last name), who's sleeping on the couch in heavy eye makeup (I like this chick already).

No longer asleep, a fully-refreshed Claudia is sitting cross-legged on a chair in the living room in a tight cocktail dress and heels. It would seem like she's waiting for something. But what? What is she waiting for? Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. Ah, she's not waiting for a what, but a  who. She's waiting someone, not something. (No shit, Sherlock.) Shut up.

Do you know what this means, right? (Um, she's going to answer it?) Well, yeah. But don't you see, there's at least ten feet that separate the chair she is currently sitting cross-legged on and the door that is being knocked on. (Oh, okay. I get it now.) Exactly. She's going have to uncross her legs, get up, and walk across the room. This is going to be sweet!

All right, here she goes. I knew it. (Knew what?) I knew her voluptuous figure would look amazing as it pressed against the fabric of her cocktail dress as she walked. (You have got to be the most perverted person on the face of the Earth.) Thanks. However, it's got nothing to do with being a pervert. I don't know how many of you know this, but I have a very keen erotic eye. Some might say it's a little too keen, if you know what I mean.

The level of my keenness aside, the sight of Angelique's Claudia walking around her apartment in a tight cocktail dress and heels is, to put mildly, aesthetically pleasing as all get out.

I don't want to alienate my base, but I must have watched Angelique uncross her legs, get up and walk over to the door at least twenty times.

What am I talking about? If anything, that will make my base like me even more. And if that's the case, I should come clean and tell them that half of those twenty times were viewed in slow motion. Oh, if only the disorganized collection of creeps and weirdos who saw this film on 42nd Street back in the late 1960s could see me now. *single tear*

Since I'm pretty much an expert when it comes to watching Angelique uncross her legs (which are, of course, sheathed in tan stockings), get up (she uses the chair's arms for leverage) and walk over to the door (each step causes her ample curves to careen violently against the inside of her dress), thanks to my over-indulgence, we can now safely move on to discuss the undressing process.

I'm sorry, I forgot to mention that Claudia was waiting for Steve (Ron Skideri), her lover, to arrive. Greeting him at the door, they kiss. After they're finished, Claudia leads Steve to the bedroom.

Leaving Steve by the bed, Claudia goes over to another part of the room to undress. Unzipping her dress, she pulls it down to reveal a black bra, black panties (though, we kind of already knew she was wearing black panties given her due to the extreme nature of her pantie line, so no real surprise there), a black and white garter belt and tan stockings. You'll notice that Claudia's first attempt to kick her dress (which is now in a clump around her ankles) to the side fails (the dress has become ensnared on her right foot). Realizing this, Claudia simply tries again. Successful in her second attempt to kick her dress to the side, Claudia sits down and begins to work on her stockings. Whereas the second stocking is merely tossed like a rolled up sweat sock being put in a laundry basket after a long day, the first stocking flies gently through the air like a gossamer bolt of mist on a wretched October day.

Meanwhile, an agitated Richard Jennings is wandering the bus station in a daze. Deciding to give Claudia a call, Richard, who has just written a book about weapons, grows concerned when the line is busy. Heading back home in a hurry, Richard is not going to like what he sees when he gets there. Storming out in a huff, the sight of Claudia and Steve rolling around together causes Richard to run wildly through the streets. Eventually, he's hit by a car.

Temporarily paralyzed and missing an eye (the accident was obviously worse than it looked - the car barely touched him), a now wheelchair bound Richard Jennings recites his new mission in life in the form of an anti-women screed. The montage the accompanies his screed (a screed that includes the line, "slash open the very core of your perversion") is the film's most artistic from a film-making perspective.

The opening salvo in his war against what he perceives as the millions of whores who tempt men with their naked flesh lands squarely at the feet of a black go-go dancer (Vivian Del Rio) with substantial, drink coaster-size nipples. In order to flesh out her character (get it, flesh out...), we're shown her dancing at a nightclub and getting undressed backstage. I prefer the latter scenes, as they give us a nice peak into the day-to-day grind of being a go-go dancer. And we get to see her hanging out in black stockings (mmm, busty black babes in black stockings).

Anyway, I won't say exactly how Richard Jennings kills the black go-go dancer. But let's just say it's a prickly affair. Transported to the woods, we watch as a thick woman named Janet (Suzanne Marre) makes her way to a wood working studio. Once inside, she finds Claudia playing the piano. Sitting on the couch, Janet proceeds to remove her leather jacket, her gloves, her dress, her slip, her tan stockings, her white garter belt and her white bra. It would seem that Janet is there to model for Claudia, who's bit an artist. Nonetheless, Claudia is having a hard time concentrating, as her mind is preoccupied with Richard Jennings (she thinks he's stalking her).

Attending a burlesque show, Richard targets a stripper (Sally Farb?) during her routine (again, like the go-go dancer hit, his technique is unorthodox - though, I shouldn't be surprised, he is a weapons expert after all).

Unable to locate Claudia, Richard uses a hooker friend of Janet's to find out where his cheating wife is hiding. This leads to another terrific scene involving stockings and garter belts, as the hooker (Peggy Steffans) slowly strips in Richard's apartment.

Tracking her down at the wood working studio, which is in Oyster Bay, Richard Jennings confronts Claudia in the classic horror movie style (chasing after her with a crossbow - I knew we would see that crossbow again). At any rate, in a perfect world, every film would mix horror and eroticism the way Michael Findlay does in The Touch of Her Flesh. Curvaceous chicks in lingerie being slaughtered in creative ways by a madmen in an eye-patch. It doesn't get better than this. Let's just hope the next two chapters in the trilogy are as good as this one.