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THE
ABCs OF LOVE AND SEX: AUSTRALIA STYLE
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Review
by
Doug Red
Film:6
:
DVD:5
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I've really been lucky when it comes to seeing unintended sexy
footage in a school setting. Once, in high school, the English
teacher rented a 16mm film print of MacBeth
for our class, expecting it to be a BBC-type traditional stage
production safe for all viewing audiences. Instead, we saw Roman
Polanski's version and got to experience full-frontal nudity and
beheadings, all the while my sweet old English teacher was aghast
in horrified embarrassment and the kids were howling. Later, in
college, I was in an honor's history class with perhaps the greatest
teller of dirty jokes in the history of humankind, a right jolly
fellow who knew every line of Pistol Paul Pete and his misadventures
with 20 pounds of swinging meat, on the day that the professor
showed the Sean Connery film The Name of
the Rose without knowledge of the fairly explicit and exceedingly
hot sex scene interlude that shocked, amused, and aroused a classroom
of 20-year olds. Needless to say, seeing that in a classroom setting
alongside the world's dirtiest jokester (with a red face) and
nearly falling into unconsciousness due to not being able to stop
laughing is one of my fondest education memories. Now, if the
educational film we had watched that day in college had been The
ABCs of Love and Sex, the classroom would have quite simply
erupted. |
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John
Lamond's The ABCs of Love and Sex: Australia
Style (the film's full title) is titillating sexploitation
disguised as an educational documentary. All the hallmarks of
a typical 1970s classroom documentary are on display in the film.
Claymation/puppet animation starts up the scenario: Dr. Leonard
B. Lovett (no relation to Prof. Whippit N. Quick) wants to teach
his class of eager clay students all about the birds and the bees.
Next, the opening credits are unveiled and some dancing babes
do interpretive jazz moves around giant letter-blocks to the sweet
slinky melodies of neglected soul singer Madeline Bell's "You've
Got What It Takes". Thus begins the film proper, which has
narrators Sandy Gore and Michael Cole going through an A to Z
list of the alphabet, sex-style, with titles like A is for
Anatomy, D is for Dreams, G is for Genitals,
and perhaps the most humorous X is for… eXcellence (you
thought maybe it was going to be X is for XXX? So did I!). There's
even the occasional talking head typical of the genre, in particular
Maj-Brith Bergström-Walan, Sweden's first sexologist and proud
member of the Swedish Institute for Sexual Research. You'll actually
learn interesting facts about sexuality as it was understood in
the dark ages of the 1970s via a very earnest and informative
narration. The worst thing about the film is the fact that the
viewer is exposed to photos of some of the most disgusting looking
prophylactics ever committed to film — if you think that overcooked
hotdog on the old drive-in ads looked bad, then you'll really
lose your lunch over sad shots of deflated condoms and no-chic
diaphragms on display under C is for Contraception. |
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So
what interest does a pseudo-documentary about sex from 1978 hold
for the modern viewer? In three words: hot nekkid women. Yes,
some gentlemen reveal their hairy shortcomings and lumpy testicles
for the entire world to see and gawk at, but it's worth it to
witness the wonder that is beautiful, uninhibited women enjoying
Nature's Favorite Pastime. ABCs was
made in a time where the natural body was still the norm, so what
the audience gets to see are people the way they were intended,
rather than cold silicone wonders of aerodynamic suspension in
the form of oversized mammary glands, or shrunken-head botox victims
in search of their lost beauty. There are all kinds of women (and
men) on display, from thin and lithesome to more rubenesque and
many stages in-between. An added bonus is that the people in the
film seem to be having a genuine good time, something today's
erotic filmmakers should consider bringing to their films. My
personal favorite sequences involve an amazingly long-legged Swedish
blonde (Brigitta Almsrön in probably her only film role)
who in I is for Innocence/Ignorance is featured in a beautiful
natural setting, woods right by a lake; and in O is for Orgasm
she's making love on a studio set to the same mustachioed lothario
from the previous sequence — leaving little doubt about if it's
just faux friskiness or if they really are rocking Gibraltar.
(The sequence was one cut out by censors back in the day, so place
your bets about if they were really 'doing it'.) Any one of the
lovely ladies on display may fit your personal definition of hotness,
and there is some of the aforementioned lumpy man-candy for those
who like that sort of thing, ensuring something for everybody
in a documentary about sex. |
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| The
Intervision release of John Lamond's ABCs
of Love and Sex: Australia Style looks pretty good for
a 'documentary' film from 1978. Minor defects in image quality
exist, but these are obviously symptoms of the original source
print. The disc's Dolby Digital Mono audio track is similarly
satisfactory. |
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There
are two extras featured on the DVD. The first is another feature-length
commentary on the film by director Lamond and Mark Hartley of
Not Quite Hollywood fame, which is
exactly the same kind of no-holds barred interview as their previous
collaboration. Among the revelations in the commentary is the
fact that my favorite gal Brigitta Almsrön's hirsute lover
was concerned about his manhood because of a noticeable twist
to it, making it more like a corkscrew than a shaft, which necessitated
creative filmmaking to avoid drawing attention to it. To boost
the fellow's confidence, Lamond apparently told him that the camera
would straighten it out! In further revelation, Corkscrew Harry
must have known how to move mountains with that appendage because
he and Brigitta were married not long after their filmic romping,
which goes to show you that what you feel might be a shortcoming
might just be the thing that you do the best. In every other respect
it is in keeping with the high quality of the previous Lamond/Hartly
audio commentary, full of observation, anecdote and wit. The second
extra is the legendary "John Lamond Trailer Reel". However,
as was the case with Intervision's release of Australia
After Dark, the promised extra is missing in action. Thankfully,
they don't break into the soundtrack and verbally announce "stay
tuned for the John Lamond Trailer Reel" like they did before.
Instead, it's just missing. Maybe the trailer reel is making its
own tour of the sexy side of Australian life, and it just can't
be bothered to actually show up. Maybe it's time that the John
Lamond Trailer Reel got its picture and last known sighting on
the back on a milk carton. 3/23/12
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