So let’s say that some silver aliens are very advanced, so advanced that they can impregnate women in minutes not months and they decide to do it onstage at a kinda sorta men’s club and pick Mrs. Foncesca (Lina Romay, who else, using her Candy Coster alter ego) to be the one to bring their otherworldly children to life.
Or maybe it’s a spy movie.
Or maybe it’s a dream.
Or maybe it’s Franco’s take on Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice.
Or maybe it’s Franco’s take on Rosemary’s Baby.
Or maybe it’s the making of a sex movie within a sex movie.
Or maybe those aliens come back and they’re real.
Look, only Jess Franco would film Lina Romay pouring water all over her nether regions as if he were shooting the Sistine Chapel, but maybe her body was his vision of what God could bring to man with a soundtrack that sounds like a Casio set to demo mode. I really don’t know what he was going for — people don’t even speak any language that exists — but in no way do I feel that I wasted my time watching whatever this was.
I think we’re going to have to get a deprogrammer for me after Jess Franco month.
