Space Thing (Byron Mabe, 1968)

Greetings, feeble earthlings. Excuse me while I gingerly gather up the requisite amount of space-related sexual innuendos for my not-so all-nude movie review of Space Thing, the grooviest, most ramshackle chunk of science fiction to hit me squarely on my not quite dimpled chin in weeks. Okay, I've finished collecting. Wow, that was quick. Let me try one right off the bat. All right, here it goes: I would like to land my taupe-coloured skin rocket all over the surprisingly crater-free surface of Cara Peters' ample moon base. Not bad. Though, if your skin rocket is "taupe-coloured," you should really see a doctor about that. Uh, what I mean is, you should really consult a skin rocket scientist immediately. But other than that, I thought it was on the cusp of being good–you know, as far as space-related sexual innuendos go. Actually, now that I think about it, the majority of the space-related sexual innuendos I came up with during my unnecessarily extensive space-centric sexual innuendos fact-finding mission were related to my fully-engorged spackle-making spangle maker redecorating the pristine epidermal layer that covers Cara Peters' spacious buttocks. And why wouldn't they? Have you seen Cara Peters in Space Thing? What am I saying? Of course you have. After all, you're the one currently writing about the epic space adventure film, produced by the legendary David F. Friedman and written by Cosmo Politan, as we speak.

Do you like strong, forceful women with child-bearing hips? Interesting. Okay, how 'bout the substantial thighs that come prepackaged with said child-bearing hips, do they scratch your itch? I see. Where do you stand on large conical breasts? Conical?!? It's a fancy way of saying, "cone-shaped." Even more interesting. Well, I've tallied the results. And judging by answers you gave, I'm afraid to say it, but you're a heterosexual man. What the hell? I don't want to be a heterosexual man; they're so not in right now. Are you sure I'm not gay? I mean, I dig campy chicks who boss around men with hairy backs. If that isn't gay, I don't know what is. No, you're definitely straight. This is bullshit.

Stop sulking, you stupid breeder. Blow me. Oh, and when I say, "blow me," I'm speaking metaphorically. Unless your mouth is shaped like Cara Peters' sensuous gob, 'cause I don't want your thin, mannish, not even close to being bee-stung lips anywhere near my prize-winning genitals. Good golly, would you look at that, I am straight.

If that's the case, how do you explain the fact that the wall of my bedroom as a child was covered in Boy George posters? That I cannot explain. However, you're reaction to Cara Peters in Space Thing is pretty good indicator of your devotion to heterosexuality. Having said that, Cara Peters' character is also a gay icon.

You mean to say that Cara Peters' character in Space Thing is beloved by straight and gay men alike? Not only am I saying that, I'm also saying that Cara Peters' Captain Mother is the de facto leader of the gay-straight alliance I secretly run out of my Aunt Marjorie's basement in Orillia. In other words, it's her sturdy, workmanlike thighs and her dedication to being campy in a space setting that are bringing the gay and straight populations closer together.

What about lesbians? Oh, man. How could I forget them? Are you ready? Cara Peters' Captain Mother, the sexiest spaceship commander to exist on this or any other plane of existence, is, in fact, a lesbian.

Aren't you forgetting someone? Who could that be? Straight women, that's who. Oh, them. I don't think they will get much satisfaction from watching Space Thing. Unless straight chicks dig guys with hairy backs. What's that? Some do, but most don't. Yeah, that's what I figured. Well, I guess you can't please everyone.

Speaking of not being pleased, Marge Granilla (Bambi Allen) can't get her husband, James Granilla (Steve Vincent), to put down those damned sci-fi novels he insists on reading in bed long enough to make sweet, passionate love to her. Now, I was going to go on this long tirade bemoaning the fact that Bambi Allen has fake breasts, but I read somewhere that Bambi died a few years later after this film was made due to complications caused by the silicone in her breast implants. So, as you can see, to whine about her breasts would be in bad taste.

Nevertheless, Marge manages convince her husband to put down his science fiction book and the two of them finally have sex. After they're finished engaging in sexual congress (what surmounted to a ten minute half-naked hug set to bongo music), James continues to read his book.

Imagining the infinite number of worlds that probably exist in the universe during of a moment of post-coital solitude, James quickly whisks us to the far reaches of the galaxy.

It's the year 2069, and James Granilla is no longer a hairy-backed husband with a wife with fake tits, he's now Col. James Granilla, an alien spy on a mission to destroy the Terran spaceship the S.S. Supreme Erection.

Oh, and before Col. James Granilla begins his mission, we're treated to an ultra-cool opening credits sequence that features day-glo lettering written all the over the body of a tanned blonde.

Wearing a gold lamé sleeveless jumpsuit, Col. Granilla hops aboard the Supreme Erection with minimal resistance. Actually, he meets no resistance whatsoever, as the crew see him as just another human male in supersonic sneakers. The only real resistance comes in the form of the dirty look Captain Mother (Cara Peters, aptly credited here as Legs Benedict) throws in Col. Granilla's general direction.

Her voluptuous body sheathed in a skimpy black and silver one-piece, her feet adorned with a pair of silver knee-high boots and her head fitted with a silver bathing cap (one with a hole in the back to allow her ponytail to dangle unmolested), Captain Mother puts her hands on her womanly hips and ponders what to do with this unexpected passenger.

You'll notice that the rest of crew, including Connie (Karla Conway), the brassy one, Portia (Merci Montello), the sassy one, and Astrid (Fancher Fague), the overly tan one, are sporting uniforms similar to one Captain Mother is wearing, except theirs are blue and silver. To give us an idea how they get into these uniforms, we're shown Connie getting into one after taking a space shower.

Not one to waste any time, Col. Granilla immediately gets down to the business at hand. And that is, sabotaging the Terran ship. Being unfamiliar with their ways, Col. Granilla must first learn their customs if he expects to fool the Terrans into thinking he's human. Using his invisibility shield, Col. Granilla observes as Portia has sex with The Cadet (Stan Isfloride), a bitter male crew member with a hairy back. When Captain Mother finds out about this, she strips The Cadet of his rank. You see, according to her, only she is allowed to have sex with the female members of the crew.

When not barking out orders to Willie (Dan Martin), the Supreme Erection's doltish helmsmen, Captain Mother likes to lounge around in purple diaphanous clothing and to don orange headbands. Since lounging has its privileges, Captain Mother. Wait, that doesn't make sense. Let me try that again. Since being the captain of an interstellar space vessel has its privileges, Captain Mother finds herself up to her elbows in guilt-free cunnilingus on a semi-regular basis.

Declaring the men to be off limits, Captain Mother punishes Portia for her cock-based transgression by whipping her on a round bed with psychedelic bed sheets. Groovy sheets, man. Ouch!

In order to get back in the Captain Mother's good graces, The Cadet agrees to fix the ship, which was hit by an asteroid. Since the film's limited budget won't allow us to see The Cadet's spacewalk, we're instead shown the minimalist interior of the ship; check out the chairs in the mess hall, they're simply yellow trashcans turned upside down.

After multiple attempts to sabotage the Terran ship end in failure, Col. Granilla excuses himself from dinner in the mess hall, and puts the ship on a collision course. He doesn't quite get the result he intended, but his actions do force the Supreme Erection to land on a nearby planet.

Maybe my mind was clouded by the thunderous sway of Cara Peters' tantalizing hips, but I think Space Thing might be a bad movie. A what?!? A bad movie. I don't think I've ever experienced this before. Experienced what? A bad movie. What are you talking about? You've seen plenty of bad movies. Yeah, but I always seem oblivious to the fact that they're bad. This is the first time in a long time that I've been acutely aware of a film's badness.

Did it have anything to do with the fact that the chairs in the Supreme Erection's cockpit were simply bar stools? No, I don't think had anything to do with the cheap props. Chalk it up to fake boobs, hairy backs, or even overly tan blondes, but there was definitely something off about this film. That being said, there was nothing off about Cara Peters, as her performance as Captain Mother, like I said, had a unifying quality about it.

Wielding her robust organic structure like it were a ball-peen hammer, Cara Peters' fabulousness in Space Thing will drive you insane. Just insane? Okay, she will cause you to fall into a bottomless pit of epileptic madness. Yeah, I know, if only the film could match the fabulousness Cara was putting out there. But still, for a film that sucks as hard as this one sucks, Cara Peters somehow manages to make everyone in the audience feel like they didn't just piss away seventy minutes of their life. In fact, I was deeply inspired by Cara Peters' turn in Space Thing. Inspired to do what is still anyone's guess, but inspired nonetheless.