DAY 307--ORGY OF THE DEAD

Softcore shenanigans from 1965, ORGY OF THE DEAD marked Edward D. Wood Jr.'s transition from low-budget sci-fi/horror to the less reputable realm of the smut trade. Directed by skin-flick baron A.C. Stephen, it's a harmless piece of fluff with enough monsters and bare breasts to entertain fans of all ages, a far cry from the less-amusing hardcore pics that defined the twilight of Wood's career.

Though Wood is relegated strictly to writing duties, adapting the screenplay from his eponymous novel (!), his stamp is all over this picture (the dialogue spoken in ORGY could have sprung only from Wood's typewriter). Opening with a Criswell introduction (who looks like he slugged half a bottle of cough syrup shortly before filming) that cribs from similar scenes in PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE and NIGHT OF THE GHOULS, it's consistent with Wood's particular brand of delirious ineptitude. I was waiting for Bela Lugosi to show up with a roll of dollar bills.

A hack horror writer and his girlfriend Shirley (played by William Bates and Pat Barrington, the latter of whom performs double duty as a dancer) stumble across the moonlit strip show being put on for Dracula-caped Criswell. Emceed by Vampira stand-in Fawn Silver, the show consists of a procession of "undead" exotic dancers come forth and jiggle their goods for Criswell (who plays some type of effeminate deity), who determines their eternal fate. If he's judging solely on talent, my guess is they're all damned to Hell.

Bad movie fans will undoubtedly get a kick out of ORGY's many shortcomings (the asinine conversations, the blatant day-for-night continuity errors), but even they will be put off by this somnambulant film. The Wolfman and the Mummy show up, serving mostly as window dressing for the main attraction, which is of course the succession of bare-chested ladies.

Now, I wasn't expecting SHOWGIRLS, but this has got to be the stupidest display of striptease ever captured on celluloid. Performed with a monumental dearth of skill, these numbers would be of interest only to those who've never seen a topless woman before (if I had to pick a winner, I'd say the girl hopping around in a ratty cat costume). Most "dances" are comprised of a few repetitive moves, and go on for far to long to be worth a glance; I'm sure the fast-forward button would be your friend.

ORGY OF THE DEAD, despite its cruddiness, will probably prove itself irresistable to bad-movie fanatics, but make sure you've got at least a gallon of your favorite alcoholic beverage on hand before partaking.