Only Judge Bill Gibron would use a phrase like "faux fornication" in a film review. And mean it from the bottom of his heart.
Ain't she naughty?
Mild-mannered receptionist Nancy leads quite the double life. During office hours, she answers the phones at the local radio station. But when lunchtime rolls around, she grabs her backwoods best friend, the goony engineer Toby, and heads off into the California countryside to set up shop. From a secret locale that changes daily, the newly christened "Dirty Sally" hosts a sexy talk show. Broadcasting her private parts pirate signal from the back of a delivery van, her self-satisfying KLUV station provides horny hip hits for all the skin-craving swingers in the area. And Sally gives good talking…head. The minute she opens her maw, she's like the Marconi version of Viagra. Even the most frigid, flaccid flops get instantly aroused by her AM aphrodisi-act.
But not everyone is happy with the ersatz psychedelic rock and simulated sodomy going out over the air—live!—three times a day. Sgt. Dimwittle is in hot pursuit, hoping to catch this BJ DJ before her on-air attributes turn into syndicated FM filth. Will the FCC finally void this vixen's voice? Or will people still be able to tune in and turn on to The Dirty Mind of Young Sally?
Over on the other side of town, chucklehead Charlie can't seem to catch a nut-knocking break. He is married to a too-young woman who can't cook, can't clean, and barely delivers in the bed department. His mistress, a lusty redhead named Marie, keeps pressing him for a commitment. And, wouldn't you know it, Charlie's geeky stepbrother Dennis is hanging out at his house. Seems the lad can't go back to college. His fellow students have commandeered the administration building. So all that the clump of crap Charlie can do is have sex: with his "other" woman; with the slutty receptionist at the typewriter company where he works (you know what they say about girls in word processing).
But what Charlie really wants to do is get rid of his ball and chain named Sandy and stay deep in Marie's meaty bosom for the rest of his life. So he hires an alcoholic private dick to snap some adultery evidence. Charlie just knows that Sandy and Dennis will respond with a little interfamilial exploring. But our portly putz doesn't realize that, when discovering the truth, you may not get exactly what you want. But what do you expect from a mop-headed mope with a libido like a loose cannon. After all, he married a Teenage Bride.
Being a fan of exploitation skin flicks, it may seem like heresy to say it, but if you've seen one Harry Novak softcore sex film, you've seen them all. The tiny Titan's approach to pseudo-porno is basic and bold-faced: dream up a clever premise, clothesline it across an 80-minute running time, then tack on as much replicated erotica as the public can stomach. As long as there is an affluence of flesh and artificial copulation, there is really no need to develop the other plot dynamics.
The Dirty Mind of Young Sally takes this notion of non-existent storyboarding to an absurd extreme. Longtime Novak hack Bethel Buckalew (famous for those Southern soil farces like Tobacco Roody, Midnight Plowboy, and The Pigkeeper's Daughter) inserts about 45 seconds of non-dirty dialogue in between every scene of elongated interloping. Plot points (like Sally's organ transplant-based reasons for starting a pirate radio station) are swept under the rug while more and more members of the Oh! Calcutta! cast album get starkers and share STDs. In fact, the last 40 minutes is nothing but boot-knocking.
But Sally is still a step above other Novak nookie-fests, if only because it features some solid performers in its leads. As Sally, Sharon Kelly is a little awkward when hampered with actual lines to recite. But when asked to act like an overheated harlot machine, she delivers in natural redheaded wonder (it's no surprise that she went on to an illustrious career in hardcore). George "Buck" Flower (who many may remember from They Live or Back to the Future) drawls and drools as the horny hayseed Toby, who uses some of the most unusual pick-up patter ever exchanged between potential paramours to score with our gal Sal. Even the ancillary aspects offer some interesting moments. The whole master/slave homoerotic hinting between Dimwittle and his police chief is good for a bewildering giggle or two (do all law enforcement bigwigs have toilets in their offices?) and some of the songs Sally plays have hilarious—if socially inappropriate—titles. If you can tolerate all the teat and tool tomfoolery, you may actually enjoy the 15 minutes of non-friggin' fun in The Dirty Mind of Young Sally.
Thankfully, Teenage Bride is a lot better in its Peyton Place-meets-peter-placement paradigms. With such a scandalous title, one would expect a truly creepy experience in perceived pedophilia. However, the actress authoring the supposed underage role looks practically post-menopausal, and is never once referred to as jail (or any other kind of) bait. Indeed, the film's name could merely be a publicity put-on, a surefire way to get the automanipulation throng to pack the peep show. This 1970/1975/1977 (it's hard to pinpoint a date on this sucker) excuse for screwing is about as close to the insertion and explosion of actual adult industry material as a supple-centered sex film can get without testing for possible pregnancy.
There are several sequences that will have you doing a Dutch door double take (and we're not talking about the scenes where a stoned Peter Jackson lookalike shouts "far out" every five seconds). For a husky homunculus with hair issues and the IQ of a kumquat, Charlie sure gets propositioned a lot. No wonder he's had about 10 jobs in two years. With all the action he's getting, who has time to punch a measly old time card? Instead of going for silly laughs or appalling pillow talk, Teenage Bride just delivers its sordid set-up, steps back, and lets the pseudo-smut fly. All mathematical parameters between Charlie, Sandy, Dennis, and Marie are explored (except in the Sappho department) and though she is barely (pun intended) featured here, Sharon Kelly again stands out as an accomplished, if slightly stockier than before, mattress mover. Add in a maddeningly miserable song about personal reflection that plays over and over throughout the film (it's earworm time again, people), and Bride becomes the Rowan to Dirty Mind's Martin.
There is a real redundancy in the bonus material offered on this DVD. Something Weird must have limited access to the Novak vaults, or perhaps Harry has given all he wants, but the galleries are starting to feature a lot of the same old publicity pics. Thankfully, the trailers are a newfound treat, as Sylvester Stallone's XXX heritage comes back to haunt him with featured ads for his sole sex film The Party at Kitty and Stud's House (along with the Rocky retread version, The Italian Stallion). The sensual send-ups for Don't Just Lay There and Female Factory are equally compelling. Sadly, our sole archival short features a rather unattractive gal in some of the worst makeup ever slathered on a skank. Bad Girl in Black Boots is a mere five minutes of topless trash. As for the films themselves, the technical attention paid by SWV really delivers. Dirty Mind looks mint, offering a colorful, clear 1.33:1 full screen transfer. Teenage is also in great shape, though a little fuzzier than its double feature.
For many, Novak's naughty sex farces are the height of exploitation excellence. They represent everything that the raincoat crowd ever wanted in a skin flick. But there can be such a thing as faux fornication OD. When a passion-pit picture starts stacking up the coitus couplings like carnal cordwood, some of the fun just fades. Make no mistake about it, The Dirty Mind of Young Sally and Teenage Bride are a couple of the best Harry Novak hump-a-thons currently available from SWV. Just don't be flabbergasted if and when the flesh gets excessive.
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