Deep in the Buttless Galaxy, on the unisex planet of Droopita, lives Sterilox (Frank A. Coe, The Notorious Daughter of Fanny Hill). The pudgy, 612-year-old dimwit with a spaghetti colander atop his head is given a peach of an assignment: Teleport to Earth to find the “perfect specimen” of woman to perpetuate a slave class, because, according to his leader, “these women make ideal servants if you train them properly.”
Apparently, the ones in Kiss Me Quick! have been trained to stay silent, except to utter the title of this monster-themed nudie cutie, the first flick for legendary exploitation producer Harry Novak, whose prodigious output represents a huge chunk of the Something Weird Video catalog. Residing in the castle of the Dr. Strangelove-esque mad scientist Dr. Breedlove (Max Gardens, My Tale Is Hot) and his Sex Machine, the abducted ladies exercise within Catacombs 69, but mostly they just strip individually for the camera and then undulate in a go-go style that does not-always-flattering things to their bosoms.
During all the undressing and the bouncing, the childlike Sterilox is supposed to be selecting a busty babe to bag (yet in the end, he chooses a vending machine). Taking turns, the girls unpeel the same kind of strapless black bra, garters and partially peekaboo panties, which makes me think Novak purchased only one set of undies and had director Peter Perry Jr. (Mondo Mod) pass it from starlet to starlet. Incidentally, their underdeveloped (in everything but cup size) characters have names like Boobra, Hotty Totty and Gina Catchafanni.
Why, yes, puns are as prevalent as bare breasts! A female mummy under Breedlove’s employ is named Selfish, says the doc, “because she’s all wrapped up in herself!” Ba-dum-bum. Dracula also stops by for the length of a groaner, as does a transgender Frankenstein’s monster (also Coe). The final scene has Breedlove — who looks like a mix of Claude Rains’ Invisible Man and a purchaser of My First Halloween Makeup Kit from TG&Y — judging the quality of the newly arrived nudes by slapping stickers on them, e.g. “CHOICE,” “PRIME,” “KOSHER” and, finally, affixed to one body’s butt crack, “THE END.”
Is Kiss Me Quick! loaded with misogyny or just naiveté? As a product of its time — one in which onscreen nudity still was from-the-dryer fresh — the latter could be argued. Today, the nudie-cutie genre is more likely to bore than titillate, to register as celebratory vs. predatory. This one is among the most enjoyable; even with its castle wall-to-wall toplessness, it exudes an all-American innocence, not to mention a generous spritz of Aqua Net. —Ed Donovan