Not Tonight, Darling

I watched this film in the early hours on a VERY obscure Sky channel called 'Movies for Men' ( That says just about everything ) The ONLY reason I watched it was the hope of seeing the lovely Luan Peters with her clothes off . By any standard she is lovely . I had a real thing for her in the 70's and if any of you are 'Fawlty Towers ' fans , she was the Aussie in the yellow T shirt who Basil manhandles with oily hands .

The film is an illustration of the films that were bought out just to titillate male audiences and for film makers to see exactly what they could show .

The most laughable aspect is the actor Vince Ball, an aging Australian actor who must be years older than all the girls who describe him as 'gorgeous ' . I think he must of been a friend of somebody and probably paid them to get next to Ms Peters ! Like all these films it is more interesting to take note of the fashions, scenery, attitudes of the 70's rather than follow the plot .

The ending is weak and inconclusive . Really only for fans of Luan Peters .

NOT TONIGHT, DARLING is a surprisingly endearing British skin flick despite the obvious shortcomings of the plot and cast. A virtually forgotten low budget effort, this chronicles the adventures of a bored housewife who struggles with the inattentions of her husband and the Peeping Tom who spies on her when she's getting changed.

There really is no more plot to it than that - this is just a 'kitchen sink' style drama, enlivened with some sex scenes and a bit of skin here and there. Despite the fact that they're generally hopeless, I always get a kick out of this era of British film, where the scuzziness is outweighed by a great sense of realism and era authenticity. Hell, I feel nostalgic and I wasn't even there!

Fans will no doubt enjoy the cheesy song contributed by guest band 'Thunderclap Newman' - beaten only in terms of cheesiness by Stoneground's cameo in Dracula 1972 AD - and the general state of poor acting, particularly from the wooden male actors. Still, lead actress Luan Peters (TWINS OF EVIL) is a revelation: incredibly voluptuous and giving a sympathetic performance to boot.

The demise of the British theatrical feature of the end of the sixties, along with the proliferation of sex cinemas, tempted a number of fringe operators into the production of Girlie Movies.

This one looks quite handsome, with established director of photography Waxman (Waterfront, I Thank A Fool) on board, as a favor to the then young crew. By the standards which must apply, it met the needs. The women are presentable. The dialogue is audible and the plot can be followed without any effort - enough for the demands of the British skin flic.

The real action had already moved on to TV where the technical standards left much to be desired but talent and ideas were showcased. These films proved a dead end.

Confirming my theory that the 70s were the decade that taste forgot this movie has the production values of a school play and looks like it was shot in various crew members flats.

By modern standards it is utterly unsexy - it as also unfunny, undramatic, badly lit, the leaden dialogue is almost inaudible (spectacularly drowned out by traffic noises at one point) and there is no resolution to the incredibly thin story.

There is nothing to recommend it at all apart from the odd flash of breast - and a brief, weird interlude where two of the characters watch the band Thunderclap Newman rehearse a couple of numbers. (I guess that might be of historical interest to musicologists of the era... but it's easy to see why they only got to release one album.) The two watchers were shot without any idea of the music they were supposed to be listening to and probably had no playback to respond to so they tap their feet, nod their heads, and snap their fingers (groovy man!) in several random rhythms simultaneously - none of them unfortunately matching the music.

Avoid. (Why doesn't IMDb allow you to rate films as a zero ?)

A London housewife (Luan Peters) is bored with her sexually cold husband (Jason Twelvetrees -- and yes he is that wooden!) and is lead/blackmailed in to temptation with an Australian travelling salesman (Vincent Ball) and his rather more unbuttoned pals.

There are many films around where the story behind the film is far more interesting than the film itself. There are also films which are more interesting for the background than the foreground. This is both.

London in the early 70's was in a strange hangover of a place -- vice had been clamped down upon and the new thing were films that were sold as sexy, but were actually nothing of the kind (but hey, they have your money by then). Today this is less sexy than post watershed TV!

The one thing that I learn from watching this is that body painting had left the London sex scene as of 1971 and that heavy blue mascara could be worn all day long. Even in bed. Love the last sightings of the those wooden finished cars too.

Thunderclap Newman come on -- and don't (repeat don't) perform their only hit "Something in the Air."

Liz Taylor once said that she won an Oscar of Butterfield 8 because she had an utter contempt for the part (and her life at that time) and the Academy mistook it for great acting. No such luck for Peters who needs her whole life (on screen) to come apart to register emotion.

This is a film that has the air of multiple failure. The acting is cold and wooden and has a pretty bad script. Indeed if you stick with it, it doesn't even reach a conclusion to its rather weak storyline. That really twists the knife in the wound.

Antony Sloman (the director) is said to be one of the biggest film buffs in the UK -- but this proves that watching a lot of good movies doesn't mean you can learn a thing from them!