Review of The Amazing Transplant

Of all the excessively nonsensical, rancid and imbecilic Sexploitation movies ever made during the decade of the 1970's (and genre buffs know there are a LOT of them), Doris Wishman's "The Amazing Transplant" definitely takes the cake when talking in terms of pure senselessness and sheer incoherence. This doesn't even qualify as a movie; this is just some crazy lady (Wishman was the only female smut-director at that time) showcasing her most lurid and morally incorrect sexual fantasies. The premise appealed to me, since it sounded like a deviant and exploitative variation on the "Mad Love" and "Hands of Orlac" concept. In those classic films the hands of an executed killer become transplanted onto a pianist who lost his in an accident, but the hands gradually turn their new owner into an unstoppable killing machine. "The Amazing Transplant" basically features the exact same plot, but of course we're dealing with a raping penis here instead of a murdering pair of hands. It's a curious and interesting concept for a sleazy and gritty 70's exploitation flick, but the sad truth is that Wishman wasn't the least bit interested in telling a story, as the (not so) amazing penis transplant only gets mentioned ten minutes prior to the ending. The rest of film merely exists of sleazy and soft-core padding with atrocious acting performances, painful dialogs and unattractive women. In the opening sequences, Arthur Barlen strangles his fiancée – and what a fight she puts up – and flees. His uncle, who's also a police detective, goes after him using Arthur's address book as the only lead. Whilst the sleazy fat copper checks out the young girls' legs and breasts, they explain through flashbacks how Arthur changed from a quiet and introvert boy into a perverted and mad-raving sex machine. At those points, we're not supposed to know anything about the penis transplant, but obviously the title and every possible synopsis description on the internet already revealed everything. The film only lasts a mere 70 minutes, yet it's insufferably boring and contains over 75% of redundant footage. There's an inexplicably large amount of images showing people's legs and feet as they simply stroll over sidewalks. Larry Hunter's character of Bill Barlen the detective is unintentionally hilarious. He displays the weirdest facial expressions when astonished, makes offensive remarks towards lesbians and simply walks away when women clearly need emotional support. This was my fourth movie directed by Doris "Sultana-of-Sleaze" Wishman (after "Deadly Weapons", "Double Agent 73" and "Let Me Die a Woman") and she never ceases to "amaze" me. Not necessarily in a positive way, but you have to admit she dared to exploit pretty much every controversial topic.