Judge Clark Douglas thinks the average Land's End catalogue is sexier than this monstrosity.
Her "man-made" lust cannot be satisfied!
Seduction Cinema's Mistress Frankenstein has two goals it attempts to achieve. First, it wants to be a clever, low-rent parody of Mary Shelley's classic monster saga. Second, it wants to be an appropriately titillating slice of softcore porn. That information is enough for many viewers to determine that they're not interested, but as a critic, it's important to judge a movie for what it is rather than for what we want it to be. I imagine it's entirely possible that someone out there has the skill to create a movie which manages to alternately arouse and entertain. However, Mistress Frankenstein fails rather spectacularly at both of its goals, delivering 80 of the most bewildering minutes I've seen since I began writing for this website.
While the softcore genre isn't really known for its clever plotting, it's not unreasonable to expect something of a coherent story that connects the scenes of bedroom antics. However, Mistress Frankenstein has such a short attention span that it can barely manage to provide the viewer with a coherent scene, much less an entire movie. As the film begins, we're introduced to Dr. Frankenstein (John Paul Fedele, SSI: Sex Squad Investigation), who spends most of his time engaging in wacky antics with his monster (Michael R. Thomas, Lord of the G-Strings: The Femaleship of the String) and his servant Igor (Bennigan Feeney, Sexy Adventures of Van Helsing). Whenever two or three of these dudes appear, fart jokes will inevitably follow (because nothing serves as better filler between sex scenes than a bunch of guys farting).
Anyway, it seems that the good doctor has a rather chilly sexual relationship with his wife Helena (Darian Caine, An Erotic Werewolf in London). This is subtly indicated by a scene in which the doctor runs up behind his wife, grinds against her rear end and then yelps, "I'm so sorry, honey! I didn't mean to touch your ass!" Immediately after making this declaration, he takes a closer look at his unresponsive wife and discovers that she is dead. He determines to resurrect her, and sends Igor to find a brain to put in his wife. Igor goes to the local brain store (no, really), where the clerk offers him a "lesbian brain." Igor mistakenly thinks the clerk said "thespian brain," and cheerfully agrees that it sounds like a very satisfactory brain. It's funny, because "lesbian" and "thespian" sound similar.
Once Helena is brought back to the world of the living, she begins behaving in rather peculiar ways. First, she begins moving in a very stiff fashion and speaking in a harsh monotone that comes much closer to suggesting "old robot" than "undead monster," but one doesn't watch a film like this for Oscar-caliber performances. Additionally, because Helena now has a lesbian brain, she begins engaging in typical lesbian behavior: roaming the countryside desperately searching for hot ladies to rape. During this period of wandering, she encounters (and subsequently beds) such nuanced and descriptively-named characters as The Broadway Girl (Heidi Christine, Gladiator Eroticvs: The Lesbian Warriors), The Hooker (A.J. Khan, Sexy American Idle) and Angry Wife (Victoria Vega, Girl Explores Girl: The Alien Encounter).
Now, to answer the question many of you are undoubtedly asking: what about the, uh, cough, sexylesbianlove, cough.
Dear reader, the multiple love scenes offered by Mistress Frankenstein are about as sloppy and inexplicable as it's possible for such scenes to be. I understand that they're supposed to play as simulated sex scenes, but more often than not they play like sessions of purposeless, uncomfortable mutual massage. I kid you not, there is a scene in which one girl sits on another girl's chest and bounces up and down while unleashing cries of ecstasy. More frequently, one lady will bang her forehead into another's belly button while both attempt to restrain their laughter. Hilariously, some of the scenes begin as rape sequences, but midway through the cries of protest abruptly stop and everyone seems to be having a good time. The music during these sequences is similarly confusing, as it veers recklessly between banal Kenny G-style grooves and gritty John Carpenter-esque horror. To cap all of this off, the producers of the film seem to have limited themselves to victims of particularly unsuccessful breast implant operations (almost all of whom also feature quite a few prominent surgical stars—a Caesarian section shouldn't prevent anyone from being an adult film star!). Just when you think things can't possibly get any worse, the filmmakers add strobe lights into the mix for the film's climactic, cringe-inducing threesome. It should also be noted that all of the film's love scenes are of a girl-on-girl nature. If you're a guy in this movie, you're stuck with what this movie regards as "comic relief" (though truthfully, the sex scenes are much funnier than the jokes).
The film's one and only entertaining moment comes at the conclusion, as an odd-looking court jester (John Link, Spiderbabe) spews a hilariously horrible freestyle poem at the camera while Frankenstein's monster does an ungainly waltz with The Broadway Girl in the background. Oh, and there's a gorilla playing a very cheap keyboard. It's not much, but you take what you can get with review assignments like this.
The full-frame DVD transfer is beyond horrible. The film looks like it was shot on VHS, and it's hard to make out much detail unless the film is offering close-ups (though in fairness, it offers quite a lot of those, as the cinematographer zooms in for uncomfortable profiles of artificially-enhanced body parts). The audio is similarly bad, as much of the dialogue sounds distorted and the music sounds tinny. Supplements include over fifty minutes of outtakes, some additional footage shot by the film's producer and a trailer.
I suppose Mistress Frankenstein might appeal to some people. Say, 13-year-old-boys who haven't really seen any naked women before and who might appreciate the sophistication of the copious fart jokes the film offers. However, most viewers will undoubtedly concur that this is the rare film which makes the average Cinemax After Dark fare look like The Seventh Seal.
Death by torches and pitchforks.
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Scales of Justice
Studio: Seduction Cinema
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