You ever watch a film that is so downright unforgiving, gritty and that really has no socially-redeeming quality that you feel you have to soak in bucket of lye to get the stentch of you? Well, if you haven't this might be the one to set you on a course for such activity...Harry Novac's Behind Locked Doors. Well Harry Novac produced this piece of downright icky goo but South African Charles Romine penned and directed this oddity that I guess fits somewhere in the thriller/horror/sexpolitation genre(s). I want to give you a few details of this thing cuz' I think you need to see it...it goes a little something like this. DANGER! PLOT SYNOPSIS AHEAD, A-holes! I tell you the reason I like having this site is the fact that we get to talk about whatever we want and when we do reviews we do them how we want, some might be 6 lines others 6 pages so if you don't like to read long reviews, I tell you what, don't. I am going to go as far as I want and that is just about the crux of it, smart guy.

Behind Locked Doors is the tale of two female "swingers", Ann (Eve Reeves) and Terry (Joyce Denner). Swingers in the sense that they like to go to South African barn dances, yep this thing was shot in South Africa, don't expect hippos and spear-chuckers though cuz' it could have very well been shot in Nicholasville, Kentucky. These gals go to parties, held in out-of-the-way barns apparently, this set-up takes a good 15 minutes to open the film and many viewers might get a little ansy to pop the tape during this barndance shit that goes on and on with a horrible "borrowed" sound track of some sorts. But it is at this party that they encounter gate-crasher Mr Bradley (Daniel Garth), an less than attractive lard ass with thick glasses and a posh hipster accent. He also looks strikingly like Dick Nixon's Secretary of State, the very honorable Henry Kissinger, and I oughta know cuz' I had the honor of breaking bread with Hank a few years ago and even stood at the urinal beside "Kiss" and believe me when I tells ya, he could of dick-slapped Sudat and Begin into a truce. Anyhoo, Mr. Bradley saves Ann from being raped in a hayloft, and later offers hospitality to the girls when their car mysteriously won't start. Well if we have learned anything from these kind of movies it is that what seems like hospitality may make your cooter hurt and this one does not deviate from films like Last House, it does throw it's own spin on things though and that is what makes this thing a possible must-see.

We got a lame lesbo-subplot, no doubt because Mr. Novac reportedly likes to watch the gals "touch each others privates" as one of his former lovers recalled. But it doesn't pan out for the luscious, deep-voiced Terry, so she takes matters in her own hands, which results in a 2 minute erotic deep-breather that had the Jumpin' one ready to ask that gal to marry him.

A decent twist in the film is Mrs Bradley - a sadistic house-keeper with short greying hair who takes the roll of sister a little too seriously as she helps her bro. torture his finds from the barn dance. Many of the film's best moments come from lingering close-ups of Mrs Bradley's evil face, Mrs Bradley listening at doors, Mrs Bradley with her whip! I'm breaking a sweat for Mrs. Bradley.

What sets this film apart from say a Psycho or more mainstream thrillers is rape does occur, torture does occur, but ultimately time and time again as the shots of these acts linger on the victims ACTUALLY SEEM TO BEGIN TO ENJOY IT! Sick, depraved, mysoginistic stuff. Where in the hell was Rape Squad! Mr. Bradley's weird assed "experiments" involve sex with his tubby arsh. There is a serious of shots of him lubing up before the act, that I tell you, will wrinkle your Peter for days. He lovingly applies oil to his paunch, back and shoulders before orally molesting Ann, Why? So she'll remember her aggressor had the softest, most supple skin. You'll be scared, oh, very scared. Mr. Bradley reminds us of the type of audience this type of film must have been made for, the overweight, business guy who ducked into the Times Square crab pits to fiddle for Rolaids under his raincoat for 73 minutes hoping to spray his shorts without really spraying his shorts. This is not pornography folks, this is just plain art. Art of course, for the twisted, pent-up, Henry Kissinger in us all.

But oddly, this is more than simply sexploitation. The plot actually appears to be central, and little nudity is present aside from the Bradley's specimen kept in the basement. Girls who failed the experiment are stuffed and trophied in the basement. This leads to a brief necrophilia scene involving the semi-retarded muscle bound caretaker and, given it is 1968, I am hard pressed to recall an earlier film which shows a guy foldling and kissing on a nude dead body. Harry Novac, ground-breaking? Maybe.

Make no mistake, this stuff in not date material, all of this stuff is handled without much sympathy for the female of species. The guys are downright vile, the girls seem to actually "tolerate" being abused in sort of a "I guess its my turn, sigh." kind of way. At the end of the film you get the feeling Terry was an actual lesbian who is in a relationship with a gal and Ann trots back to the barn dance to hang out with the dude who was raping her in the opening act.

Fuck the flaws in this thing, it is good-quality filth. I haven't really given anything away because there are still a few twists, much more weirdness and overall you can't give enough away to take any of the scum off this winner. Search this one out, you can find it of course at Something Weird, since they have a realtionship with Novac. This is not his best work but far from his worst and kind of defies comparision with much of anything.

If you find yourself turned on at all during any of this thing shy of the masturbation scene, please seek the help of a trained professional, I think you may have issues.

An OILY Mr. B prepares to munch a bit of muffin...is that Kosher?

Retardo forces himself into South Africa.