jimm-8

Doris Wishman and her rival contemporary Russ Meyer shared somewhat parallel careers. Both churned out a fair amount of rubbish, but somehow along the way achieved an almost cult status. Indeed, both film-makers were honoured in 1988 when no less than Jonathan Ross interviewed them and discussed their work. In the case of Ms Wishman one must judge Diary of a Nudist as her key offering, a film that was regarded as just another nudie flick when it came out in 1961. However, on closer inspection, it now comes over as a wicked satire on both nudists and the nudist film genre.

Doris has a great time here poking fun at basic naturist psyche. For instance, in one memorable scene we see two guys relaxing by the pool probably discussing sports. A naked girl wiggles up to them and they politely, almost reluctantly, give her a few words. She slinks off and they get back to the Dodgers. No suggestion the boys are gay -- just standard emotionless nudists. Ironic that their names are Bill and Ben, since even the Flowerpot Men showed more imagination. Similarly, whilst new girl Stacy is being shown round the camp by the supervisor, she's introduced to Eleanor, John, Helen and Fran who are sitting on the grass doing naked flower arranging. Although it's explained that this is important for the summer festival, one does suspect that Doris has her tongue firmly in her cheek. The main method of having an exciting time here seems to be drinking coffee and throwing endless pebbles into the stream. Stacy is also introduced to a little girl called Phyllis, but how she was conceived is an unexplained mystery.

The other target for satire is the fundamental problem faced by every nudist film in 1961. Although most of the body could be displayed on camera, the "naughty bits" had to be out of sight, which led to all manner of cover-ups, camera manoeuvres and coy posing. So, when the girls emerge from the changing hut, we see waistlines covered by first a towel, then a folded blouse, followed by a hat, a shopping bag, a newspaper and lastly (running out of camouflage ideas) another hat. There's a bizarre game of volleyball between the shorts and the no-shorts. Needless to say, the shorts are filmed from every angle, but the no-shorts only from the back. And how those girls struggle to look natural while posing behind a bush (no pun intended).

As for the technical credits, these are quite impressive with attractive photography and good sound. However, since the cast are all amateurs, the dialogue has been post-dubbed at the famous Titra Sound studio in New York. A disconcerting consequence of this is that anybody who has just seen Hercules Unchained will probably notice that Arthur and Stacy have the same dubbed voices as Steve Reeves and wicked Queen Omphale. One must also give credit to the music score which is a delight, right from the bouncing title song (composed by Doris's niece) to the cool jazz for xylophone and brass that accompanies the sun bathing and swimming. If only someone had released this as a soundtrack album, it could have been a haunting classic.

An amusing postscript came to light when old episodes of What's My Line were later repeated. Camp owner Zelda Suplee (using her real name Yolande Reed) crops up in a 1953 episode, challenging the panel to guess her occupation. Witty panellist Steve Allen had already worked out the answer when he posed the immortal question, "Would the services you provide improve my eyesight?"