SPOILERS INCLUDED
In the twilight of his career Glen or Glenda director Ed Wood was wheeled out for this less than appealing, one joke sex comedy. Such is the demand for anything Wood related that Rhino/Acme have unearthed the film for DVD and even gone as far as adding computer generated titles to (falsely) claim Wood as the producer/director. In fact the man calling the shots was Joseph F Robertson, an old WW2 buddy of Wood who had a parallel career to Wood's as a one-time horror man (he produced The Slime People in 1962), before ending up directing soft and hardcore porn. Robertson used Wood for several features including the unreleased Misty', Mrs. Stone's Thing' and the hardcore Love Making U.S.A'. That said, Wood did write the script for The Love Feast (or Pretty Models all in a Row') and plays the lead role. Despite stiff competition from his drag role in Mrs. Stone's Thing and Pops' in Fugitive Girls, The Love Feast can lay claim to boasting Wood's most alarming on-screen performance.
After an opening featuring the titles painted on a nubile young thing (and gynaecological snapshots of some far from young things) we're introduced to Wood's Mr Murphy (just call me Murf'), a nudie-photographer complete with showbizzy white suit and pinned on flower. Talking directly to the viewer Murphy shares his technique' of how to get girls, though given the scrapes it gets him in you might not want to use it. Murphy simply phones up any model agency in the Yellow Pages and has them send round young models for him to bed and occasionally photograph nude.
His first victim/model balks at the idea of posing nude-but being somewhat naïve agrees to model see-through clothing'. Stripping down to her birthday suit on Murphy's couch, she awaits the arrival of the see-through' clothes only to be told by Murphy she's already wearing them. Pretty soon Murphy whisks her away to his bedroom for sex, but is called away when another model arrives. After salivating over the second model (from the top of your head to the bottom of your toe, you make me want to go,go,go') Murphy ends up in the sack with both girls and gets as far as pulling his trousers down before .in case you haven't guessed this already .he's called away when yet another model starts ringing his doorbell. This continues over and over again with Murf' bringing multiple models to bed for sex but always being called away at the vital moment by the arrival of yet another model, causing him to have tantrums on the end of the extremely crowded bed (another impatient lass arrives .will it never end'). It would appear Murphy rang up every model in Hollywood. Murphy has just enough energy to wildly proclaim I feel like King Kong' and upon eyeing a pair of big breasts quip ye Gods what a milk factory' but by the time around ten women are sprawled on his bed he's too tired to do much. Pulling gargoyle faces and walking like a crab Murphy reluctantly hands over stud duties to a passing cabbie and a pair of plumbers who burst into his bedroom carrying a wrench and a plunger.
Sneaking away from the orgy to do some heavy drinking Murphy ends up so intoxicated that when a car full of girls turn up he has to crawl around the house to answer the doorbell. In the film's twist' it transpires Murphy has accidentally rung a dominatrix service and despite his protests the girls are intent on putting him through his paces. Marching him into his living room, they force him to wear a dog collar and then dress up in a pink frilly nightie and yellow knickers (I'm getting to like them'). Finally Murphy has to lick a girl's boots, which causes the entire kinky troupe to go weak at the knees. Getting carried away, one girl even whips off Murphy's old Y-fronts and begins lewdly rubbing herself with them.
With its suburbia setting, 16mm photography and crude direction which serves only to get the cast from Murphy's door to his bed, The Love Feast has the feel of the most primitive of early hardcore. However-despite a snippet of Wood's leering later making its way into a hardcore sex education' film-The Love Feast is strictly within the softcore sensibilities of uncomplicated nudity'. Which leaves cast members in the centrepiece orgy to let it all hang out, crawl on-top of each other, giggle allot and little else. The late cameraman Hal Guthu (a regular softcore cinematographer and one-time agent of Rene Bond) pans around the literal wall-to-wall nudity in search of anything resembling foreplay but only has a knack for uncovering every bruise,scar,birthmark and tattoo the cast have to offer. It's not a pretty sight.
Appropriately Look Back in Angora', the Wood documentary that accompanies the film on DVD realises heavily on Pretty Models all in a Row' to comment on Wood's declining years. While Wood is quite a character and brings a cartoonish quality to his dirty old man role, autobiographical elements seem strongly evident and the line that separates the fictional street level pornographer Mr Murphy from the real-life street level pornographer Ed Wood appears blurred several times. How else can you interpret the second act's turn towards a transvestite theme, and dialogue like sometimes I even hit a lucky day, then again' and here I am reduced to crawling like a wet dog I don't know if I'm gonna make it' have a horribly confessional tone. Sickly and feeble looking with greasy hair and less than flatteringly photographed when semi-nude, every moment Wood is on-screen only reinforces the depressing thought that little lay between his role in The Love Feast and a slow death from poverty and alcoholism in the slums of Hollywood. The Love Feast also seems authentic' in at least one other respect; most of the actresses really do look like they came from the Yellow Pages. More sad than titillating.
In the twilight of his career Glen or Glenda director Ed Wood was wheeled out for this less than appealing, one joke sex comedy. Such is the demand for anything Wood related that Rhino/Acme have unearthed the film for DVD and even gone as far as adding computer generated titles to (falsely) claim Wood as the producer/director. In fact the man calling the shots was Joseph F Robertson, an old WW2 buddy of Wood who had a parallel career to Wood's as a one-time horror man (he produced The Slime People in 1962), before ending up directing soft and hardcore porn. Robertson used Wood for several features including the unreleased Misty', Mrs. Stone's Thing' and the hardcore Love Making U.S.A'. That said, Wood did write the script for The Love Feast (or Pretty Models all in a Row') and plays the lead role. Despite stiff competition from his drag role in Mrs. Stone's Thing and Pops' in Fugitive Girls, The Love Feast can lay claim to boasting Wood's most alarming on-screen performance.
After an opening featuring the titles painted on a nubile young thing (and gynaecological snapshots of some far from young things) we're introduced to Wood's Mr Murphy (just call me Murf'), a nudie-photographer complete with showbizzy white suit and pinned on flower. Talking directly to the viewer Murphy shares his technique' of how to get girls, though given the scrapes it gets him in you might not want to use it. Murphy simply phones up any model agency in the Yellow Pages and has them send round young models for him to bed and occasionally photograph nude.
His first victim/model balks at the idea of posing nude-but being somewhat naïve agrees to model see-through clothing'. Stripping down to her birthday suit on Murphy's couch, she awaits the arrival of the see-through' clothes only to be told by Murphy she's already wearing them. Pretty soon Murphy whisks her away to his bedroom for sex, but is called away when another model arrives. After salivating over the second model (from the top of your head to the bottom of your toe, you make me want to go,go,go') Murphy ends up in the sack with both girls and gets as far as pulling his trousers down before .in case you haven't guessed this already .he's called away when yet another model starts ringing his doorbell. This continues over and over again with Murf' bringing multiple models to bed for sex but always being called away at the vital moment by the arrival of yet another model, causing him to have tantrums on the end of the extremely crowded bed (another impatient lass arrives .will it never end'). It would appear Murphy rang up every model in Hollywood. Murphy has just enough energy to wildly proclaim I feel like King Kong' and upon eyeing a pair of big breasts quip ye Gods what a milk factory' but by the time around ten women are sprawled on his bed he's too tired to do much. Pulling gargoyle faces and walking like a crab Murphy reluctantly hands over stud duties to a passing cabbie and a pair of plumbers who burst into his bedroom carrying a wrench and a plunger.
Sneaking away from the orgy to do some heavy drinking Murphy ends up so intoxicated that when a car full of girls turn up he has to crawl around the house to answer the doorbell. In the film's twist' it transpires Murphy has accidentally rung a dominatrix service and despite his protests the girls are intent on putting him through his paces. Marching him into his living room, they force him to wear a dog collar and then dress up in a pink frilly nightie and yellow knickers (I'm getting to like them'). Finally Murphy has to lick a girl's boots, which causes the entire kinky troupe to go weak at the knees. Getting carried away, one girl even whips off Murphy's old Y-fronts and begins lewdly rubbing herself with them.
With its suburbia setting, 16mm photography and crude direction which serves only to get the cast from Murphy's door to his bed, The Love Feast has the feel of the most primitive of early hardcore. However-despite a snippet of Wood's leering later making its way into a hardcore sex education' film-The Love Feast is strictly within the softcore sensibilities of uncomplicated nudity'. Which leaves cast members in the centrepiece orgy to let it all hang out, crawl on-top of each other, giggle allot and little else. The late cameraman Hal Guthu (a regular softcore cinematographer and one-time agent of Rene Bond) pans around the literal wall-to-wall nudity in search of anything resembling foreplay but only has a knack for uncovering every bruise,scar,birthmark and tattoo the cast have to offer. It's not a pretty sight.
Appropriately Look Back in Angora', the Wood documentary that accompanies the film on DVD realises heavily on Pretty Models all in a Row' to comment on Wood's declining years. While Wood is quite a character and brings a cartoonish quality to his dirty old man role, autobiographical elements seem strongly evident and the line that separates the fictional street level pornographer Mr Murphy from the real-life street level pornographer Ed Wood appears blurred several times. How else can you interpret the second act's turn towards a transvestite theme, and dialogue like sometimes I even hit a lucky day, then again' and here I am reduced to crawling like a wet dog I don't know if I'm gonna make it' have a horribly confessional tone. Sickly and feeble looking with greasy hair and less than flatteringly photographed when semi-nude, every moment Wood is on-screen only reinforces the depressing thought that little lay between his role in The Love Feast and a slow death from poverty and alcoholism in the slums of Hollywood. The Love Feast also seems authentic' in at least one other respect; most of the actresses really do look like they came from the Yellow Pages. More sad than titillating.