Vicky (Viki Caron) just can't have sex with her husband Bill, whom she
loves very much, and she and especially rather her mother (Ruth Blair)
blame this on a rape that had occured when she was only 15, an event the
girl seems to have fully repressed. Mom also suggests a divorce, but Vicky
decides to pay a visit to Doctor Warren (Lash La Rue) instead, who is
quick to realize there's more to this than a simple (?) rape. So he calls
in hypnotherapist Ormond McGill (himself) to uncover the full truth, and
the two men soon find out that Vicky was never actually raped, this
incidence was only suggested by her mother to not lose her grip on the
girl. Sure, Vicky was dragged into the bushes by a ruffian, but the
ruffian was chased away before he could do any actual harm. But then,
you may ask, what caused Vicky's fear of intimacy? Turns out it is
nothing but a ring that Bill is wearing that reminds her of what she has
so far believed to be a rape and which has thus turned her instantly
frigid. But now that she knows she hasn't been raped and Bill abandons his
ring, the two of them are able to shag like nobody's business - and
there's nothing that mother can do ... Now that is a fun film
that has all the elements to become a classic of the so-bad-it's-good
variety: It's good totally pointless mondo footage of fakirs lieing on
beds of nails and the like, it's got former cowboy star (and frequent Ron
Ormond-collaborator Lash La Rue playing a psychiatrist, it's got a real
life stage hypnotist and hypnotherapist Ron McGill (whom Ron Ormond knew
from his vaudeville days), and it's got an attractive redhead (Viki Caron)
walking around in various stages of undress (no frontal nudity though, and
tame by today's standards, but remember, this was made in 1959, released
in 1963). Add to this Ron Ormond's rather blunt direction, including a
hilarious dream sequence, a silly script with priceless dialogue, and a
weird over-emphasis on cigarettes, and you've got yourself one hilarious
Thanksgiving Turkey of a movie!!!
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