The Immoral Three (Doris Wishman, 1975)

nWhoever decided to give the three characters at the centre of The Immoral Three names that all end in ‘y’ is going to feel my wrath someday. Oh, and don’t worry, I’m not blaming Doris Wishman, as she only directed this film. That being said, she could have chimed in and said something. Nevertheless, I doubt she had anything to do with naming the characters. No, from the looks of it, the only thing Doris was responsible for was the wonderfully garish interior design and the sex scenes that focused primarily on the participant’s feet. Actually, that’s not entirely true, as you can see Doris Wishman’s fingerprints all over this film. Everything, from the colour of the carpet, to the sudden bursts of violence practically screamed Doris Wishman. Though, I have to say, she’s come along way from the black and white roughies she made in the mid-1960s. In those films, you would be lucky to travel beyond a two block radius. Yet, in this film, we travel the globe, as we visit Moscow, Las Vegas, Munich, New York City and exotic Fresno, California. Yep, you heard right, I said Fresno. It’s true, it might not have been really Fresno, but when a curly-haired redhead wearing a dress–one that sported so many slits, that I literally lost count–shows up at the house of some German guy who may or may not have been her dead mother’s lover, I totally bought that it was Fresno; yeah, it was that convincing.

nWhile it’s pretty simple to fake Fresno, it’s another thing all-together to fool people your film is taking place in New York City and Las Vegas. In order to overcome this difficulty, Doris Wishman shoots the curvaceous Cindy Boudreau walking the streets of both cities.

nI know, the film is called “The Immoral Three,” not The Immoral One. In other words, where are the other two? Why don’t we get to see Sandra Kay and Michele Marie walking the streets of any of these cities?

nThis question proceeded to nag me throughout the film, as it would seem that Cindy Boudreau is doing the majority of the heavy lifting. To put it in less diplomatic terms, I don’t think the other chicks are pulling their weight.
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nSure, Sandra Kay’s Nancy performs oral sex on a banana and a gardener (not at the same time, mind you) and Michele Marie’s Sandy visits fake Fresno in a slit-heavy dress, but that’s pretty much all they do.

nIf that wasn’t enough, first time and last time actress Cindy Boudreau plays a duel role. Playing Ginny and…

nWait a second, I think I might have mixed up the names of the other two chicks. It says here that Sandra Kay plays Sandy, the grumpy brunette who performs oral sex on a banana and a gardener. And Michele “with one ‘l'” Marie is Nancy, the enthusiastic redhead with killer gams. To make matters even more confusing, Ginny is a redhead, too. On the plus side, however, Ginny’s red hair is straight, while Nancy’s is curly.

nAnyway, Cindy Bordreau plays Ginny, a vivacious redhead who discovers that her recently deceased mother was a secret agent, and she also plays–you guessed it–Jane Tennay, Ginny’s mother. And, as it turns out, Jane’s the mother of Sandy and Nancy as well.

nIn the flashbacks that show Jane in secret agent mode, they depict a woman who doesn’t take no shit from anyone. Wielding her DeLeeuw-esque frame like a spear made out of pure, unadulterated shapeliness, flashback Jane fucks men and then she kills them. Present day Jane, however, dies like some two-bit whore.

nThe film opens with present day Jane relaxing on a balcony in a yellow bikini, when all of a sudden, a man starts choking her. Instead of fighting back, like flashback Jane would, present day Jane just lies there and gets strangled to death.

nWhat gives, present day Jane? You were such a bad ass in the flashback sequences. Take, for instance, the flashback that shows you in Moscow. After fucking some lumpy guy with a beard, you attempt to steal a microfilm from his pants while he slept in a dried up puddle of his own jizz. Catching her in the act, the lumpy guy tries to straight up kill her shapely ass. Not wanting to get killed, flashback Jane stabs him with some sort of medieval fire poker.

nIn order to make it seem like they were in Moscow, Doris Wishman puts flashback Jane and the lumpy guy in coats and tells them to act cold.

nTo collect their inheritance (one million dollars each), Ginny, Sandy and Nancy must avenge their mother’s death (we never see the face of the man who choked her on the balcony). Not to worry, though, she left her daughters an envelope containing photos and the location of the four men Jane thinks might have wanted her dead.

nUsing Jane’s house as their base of operations, the three women plan their next move. Well, Ginny and Nancy plan their next move, as it would seem that Sandy doesn’t want anything to do with this convoluted revenge plot. I’m with you, honey, this movie kinda sucks.

nPutting on a red bikini, Sandy relaxes on a lawn chair with a banana.

nSpeaking of things that are yellow, check out the yellow wall-to-wall carpeting. I must say, watching the heels of Ginny, Sandy and Nancy’s shoes grind seductively into the thick carpet of Jane’s swanky pad is the only thing this film has going for it so far. (Are you nuts? Sandy just gave oral sex to a banana!) Did she, really? I mean, it’s just a piece of penis-shaped fruit. No, I prefer to watch women digging their heels into thick carpet. (Weirdo.)

nSince there’s barely enough material to justify it being called a movie, we’re shown Sandy attacked by a delivery boy and a pointless scene where Ginny has sex with a stranger while trapped in an elevator.

nImpress your friends and get an “OH SHIT” belt buckle. (What are you blathering about?) The film just got interesting again when, for some strange reason, we’re given a close up shot of Sandy’s saucy belt buckle.

nYou see, while Ginny is scouring the streets of New York City and Las Vegas looking for her mother’s killer, Sandy’s sitting on a gaudy couch doing jack shit in an “OH SHIT” belt buckle and Nancy’s in Fresno talking to some asshole named Hans in a dress with six maybe seven slits. (Wait, this Hans asshole was wearing a multi-slitted dress?) No, Nancy was wearing the multi-slitted dress. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to stop writing about this film now. It blows.

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