Le trottoir du vice

Straight-ahead exploitation film from a director of nudie flicks (oh and exec producer of "The Sorcerers", which is actually a good movie). Hardly shocking, more comical, although still banned by the BBFC on initial release. England in the early Sixties must have been more prudish than previously thought.

There are some funny moments with a lot of non-actors "doing acting", and the spy-jazz theme tune is a swinging number (it gets replayed many times for extra value). I'd say the real interest, though, is the shots of a long-lost vintage Soho: a world away from today's tourist attraction.

Half marks, for genuine Z-grade/camp/period piece/curiosity value. Seekers of smut should, however, look elsewhere.

West End Jungle is a fake documentary with staged scenes. Set in the West End of London it is a morality story with the intention of showing titillating sex scenes and nudity. Due to the time this film came out there is no real nudity shown just a few underwear shots.

The film mainly features men going to clip joints, seeing prostitutes and it ends with a street walker being picked up by the police. All sleazy stuff backed up by a cynical albeit excellently written narration track.

The version I saw was the Strike Force Entertainment DVD release from the UK. It is rated 15 and features a superb print and good sound which could do with being a bit louder. This is a 50 minute film and it is a bit expensive at £10+

Director Arnold L Miller went on to make London in The Raw and Primitive London which are more of the same and is worth watching. The cinematographer is Stanley Long who made the forgettable British Sex Comedies series The Adventures of...

Seamy or at least black and white expose of 1950's London's sex trade in all its guises. Using actors and clearly of the period, this reveals and condemns all the tricks of the trade, from call girls to clip joints and high massage parlours to low class walk ups. It's hard to know which are less appealing: the deluded and self-deluded and desperate punters or the calculating and equally desperate working girls. The film condemns them equally, while revealing in details the titillation and barely legal disrobing designed to arouse man's baser desires. With a voice-over straight from the Department of Public Morals, and fascinating glimpses of a period long ago, this has something for everyone. Huge potential for unintentional humour and entirely convincing as to the facts of the case.

I used to go up to Soho and the West End from the late fifties,to watch the big epics being shown at one of the big cinemas. I have to say that I was never approached by a prostitue though there were lots of signs in doorways for models.

It is difficult to take this film too seriously at its mock serious condemnatory tone. The women who speaks on the soundtrack sounds rather like Dick Emery's Mandy.

The censor at the time was John Trevelyan. If you were what he considered a serious artist then he would give you considerable licence. If you were making exploitation films then he would come down on you like a ton of bricks.

Bob the Moo has said it all really, and there's not much to add to his comments. Almost fifty years later, it's difficult to see what all the fuss was about - one sees worse on pre-watershed TV. All the characters are tawdry: the men are seedy and the girls unattractive. The one exception is the fan-dancer who has a few seconds towards the end of the film: she's a nice-looking girl and obviously a professional artiste.

Apart from the censorious voice-over, the striking impression was the constant smoking - one wonders what the mortality rate from cancer was among night-club hostesses and patrons.