On the basis of College Girls Confidential, I clearly went about my higher education all wrong, as my four-year stint at a university was nothing like this. Then again, I didn’t pledge a fraternity, whereas sexploitation specialist Stephen C. Apostolof (Orgy of the Dead) sets most of the black-and-white tomfoolery within the walls of one: Lambda Sigma Delta, for the record. (For those slow on the draw, that shortens to LSD and passes for cleverness.)
But first, Professor Bryce (Sean O’Hara) has eyes (among other parts) for his female biology students. (We know this because of the “Boing!” sound effect Apostolof employs.) One of those young women is failing the class and, therefore, dooming graduation, so a fellow coed encourages her to use her coochie-coo to sway Bryce into passing her. She does; he accepts; and the following conversation takes place in his office as clothes are shed:
Bryce: “You are a lovely biological specimen.”
Clueless Student: “Oh, professor, what a tiger you are! I didn’t know that advanced lab required so many experiments!”
The rest of Confidential — some prints drop that word from the title like trou — is one big-breast fest that interprets the “big man on campus” label anew. A guy rolls around on a bed with two busty babes, who then go downstairs to put their goodies in the face of LSD’s newest pledge. Apparently, this passes for initiation. (What, no latent elephant walk or circle jerk with a saltine?) A real happenin’ shindig is thrown, with topless girls bouncing around everywhere, and one dude taking a bad enough trip to end up in the hospital where he is admonished by a real tsk-tsk of a doctor.
Only at this tail end does Apostolof seem to condemn the behavior of the student body upon which he has capitalized in the preceding hour; you won’t buy his sudden about-face, but you’ll certainly enjoy it. Go looking for skin, not plot, as the characters have about as much need for identities as they do belts. —Ed Donovan