Monday, December 28, 2009



by Keith Hall, Jr.

Super-voluptuous Lana Wood plays a housewife with a glamorous beachfront house and a husband who has a penchant for taking cold swims in the ocean, but doesn’t make love to her. This has been going on for a couple of years, so Lana is understandably quite put out, and pent up. Help arrives from the beyond…and in a big way. Soon the nubile Lana is getting laid every ten minutes by an invisible ghost: in her bed, in her shower, sometimes even under the nose of her husband. We get many cutaways to the waves breaking on the shore as Lana moans in ecstasy.

Lana soon moves into another room in her house so as to have more privacy with her sexual spirit, who eventually becomes visible and turns out to be Kabir Bedi from OCTOPUSSY. But as if these cosmic couplings weren’t enough, more strange things occur. The other members of the family start bleeding for no reason, meeting strangers who claim to be Satan’s helpers, having weird dreams, noticing their eyes beginning to glow, and experiencing visions. With all these events taking place, Lana can’t tell if she’s cumming - I mean coming - or going.

Lana’s psychic friend (Britt Ekland) gets into the (sex) act when she senses dark forces at work. Satan’s CIA tries to warn her off by giving her a very hot hot tub and then decapitating her boozer husband (Don Galloway), but with the counsel of priest John Carradine, she pursues the case.

It seems our ravishing wraith is a soul who can’t decide whether he wants to go to Heaven or Hell. Satan is using Lana as bait to lure him to the hot place, although things seem pretty hot between the two of them up here. In the end, Bedi elects to go to Hell and the forces of evil are defeated. Or are they?

Miss Ekland receives top billing but only appears in only about four short scenes, and Carradine has just one. It is really Miss Wood who carries the film on her shoulders, and other places! I hope Mr. Bedi (with emphasis on BED) wasn’t paid by the word, since he never said anything. However, if Miss Wood was paid by the moan, she could probably retire by now. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her around lately…

[Originally published in Temple of Schlock #10, August 1988]

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