"Nurse, prepare Mrs. Bennett for... an insemination!!!" These words, darkly intoned by fertility specialist TIMOTHY FARRELL, set the stage for the shocking scene that follows.

Count Henri de Prave revisits the French bistro where he played a small part in the downfall of the Nazis years earlier. He recounts the story of how the evil Nazi Commandant Max von Hildebrandt, a friend of the Count, came to France with his sadistic ways and his ultimate downfall.

A sexy blonde leans over the shoulder of her cigar-smoking boss and purrs, “You’re such a smart guy. To me, you’re the big guy!” At which point the camera pulls back to reveal the boss is a dwarf sitting atop a table. Which is a nice way of opening any carny-noir, especially GIRL ON THE RUN, a hootchy-cootchy whodunit set entirely at a small seedy carnival where the life and death of the characters aren’t as important as periodically stopping the plot to watch a variety of carny girls stop and shake their stuff.

A voyeuristic medical student goes to a psychiatric hospital to learn about his illness.

Not a lot is known about this exploitation clip-collage which examines the classic marijuana scare-films of the 1920s through the 1940s. However, the year of release, tone of the narration, and the complete lack of credits indicate that The Devil's Joint may well have been some kind of underground film. After all, it was released around the time when vintage drug films like the 1936 Reefer Madness were being rediscovered by a new generation via midnight screenings at smoke-filled theaters and college universities. The tone here is cleverly set from the opening text which informs us that the film has been made without the cooperation of the Whit House, FBI, or local police authorities. In case you still didn't get the hint, The Devil's Joint then shows us a clip of TICHARD NIXON stating that he is here to tell us the truth despite his honesty and integrity being under question, before cutting to grisly newsreel footage of Chinese opium users being executed in the 1930s. What follow is essentially a series of extended clips from a number of the most notorious roadeshow drugsploitation films including Reefer Madness (of course), as well as a silent film from the 1920s called The Pace That Kills For the most part, the film wisely lets these clips speak for themselves, although a narrator does give us a quick rundown of all the propaganda clichés used in the drug scare genre, and during sequences which depict stoned people fighting, Batman-style "Pows!" and "Zaps!" flash across the screen. Occasionally, silent-movie-style text cards pop up displaying lurid pulp blurbs like "An Innocent young virgin under the spell of the Killer Weed! Will she fall prey to man's lust?"

Reminiscent at times of Russ Meyer during his black & white drive-in period, crossed with a smattering of vintage Herschell Gordon Lewis-styled histrionics, Shanty Tramp is one of those films which makes it such a joy to be a fan of Sixties exploitation sleaze. Indeed, the film remains a virtual primer of exploitation requirements, and has retained its power to fascinate, repel, and excite.

Before he became known for distributing such drive-­in epics as I Drink Your Blood, I Eat Your Skin, and I Spit on Your Grave, JERRY GROSS directed two fascinating little quickies - Girl on A Chain Gang (’65) and Teenage Mother (’67) - that are textbook examples of classic old-school exploitation. In fact. shot­-on-Long-Island Teenage Mother seems to take its inspiration from a half dozen old roadshow films, updated for the Sixties, and even concludes with that oldest of exploitation standbys, authentic birth-of-a-­baby footage!

In the Scottish town of Loch Lake during the 17th century, Martha, condemned as a witch and burned at the stake, leaves a curse on the village. Years later, her newly married granddaughter, also named Martha, goes to live in the witch's castle. Certain manifestations of witchcraft lead the villagers to believe that the witch has returned and hold Martha captive. Her husband asks a shepard named Maciste to help, and he uproots a tree and descends into Hell in search of the witch hoping to break the spell she has cast.

Now here's a title most women would probably agree with. A transitional film for director JOSEPH P. MAWRA -- who would cut his teeth on the depraved Olga films -- All Men Are Apes! has lived in the shadows for too long and deserves to take its place as one of the genuine little nuggets to be mined from the Sixties sexploitation field.

A faux cautionary documentary that portrays several notorious celebrity sex scandals from the golden age of Hollywood through film clips and often humorous softcore reenactments.