“They must follow their orders, no matter what they wish…”LOVE CAMP 7
Who made it? Directed by Lee Frost | Written by Bob Cresse & Wes Bishop | Director Of PhotographyLee Frost | Special Effects Harry Woolman
Who’s in it? Maria Lease | Kathy Williams | Bob Cresse | Phil Poth | John Alderman | Carolyn Appleby | David F. Friedman | Bruce Kimball | Natasha Steel
If you weren’t watching this the week it came out, you might have been watching… Paint Your Wagon / Oh What A Lovely War
Production notes and whatnot
What’s it all about?
Well to be honest, summarising this motion picture effort for this blog is –and I’m going out on a (naked) limb here – probably the most writing this movie has been involved with. And I’m including the script, the receipts for Swatika flags and hiring an angry dog to bark at nude Jewish ladies.
Yep. It’s that sort of movie. So, if we must – and as I say, I watch these to stop you having to do so – here’s the “plot” of Love Camp 7.
So we start in the present day (1969) where a grey haired Britishy business man is “consummating” a deal with some American. Or just “closing” a deal, as humans say. Post contract chit-chat leads to talk of the WW2 map framed on the wall, at which point Mr Britishy Businesschap gets all misty eyed and the film is a narrated flashback (“fleshback? Ed) of his derring war “story.”
The 1940s. We’re in a bunker of some sort. Army paraphanalia from a local theatrical-prop store all about the place. Some top brass with a “Mind Your Language” school of accents are talking about a a daring rescue plot.
A scientist with some kind of plans for some kind of super rocket/jet thing has been captured. Or possible killed. It doesn’t matter which. His assistant, one Martha Grossman, has been captured and sent to a Nazi “Love Camp.” Essentially a French brothel type concentration-camp type torture chamber type barracks where tired and weary Nazi officers can take their furlough to relax and have violent whippy sadomasochistic angry slappy sex with naked female Prisoners Of War.
As you do.
Martha (not to be confused with Marcie – see below) has all the knowledge they need to build the rocket. If only they could somehow infiltrate the Love Camp and get all the details…
Cue the arrival of two female officers who have been trained to have eidetic memories and remember everything they hear and read. These two will be parachuted behind enemy lines, picked up, hopefully sent to Love Camp 7 where they can get all the info from Martha before the Allies burst in to rescue them after 3 days.
Okay, so far, so Where Eagles Dare. The bulk of what remains of the movie revolves around the women being brought to the camp, hosed down by a barky, overacting black uniformed SS-Type Commander and his troops while an Alsatian barks at their screams.
Picture Barry Kripky from the Big Bag theory. But fatter. And a peverted Nazi. And a comedy German accent.A violently abusive medical examination follows by a brusque Sapphic doctor (all naked screaming and plunging fists and wobbly cameras). In fact “Naked screaming, wobbly camera” would have been a much more fitting title for this piece of exploitative drivel.
Off to the dorm room where the other semi-naked prostitutes lounge around in open-chested boiler suits on iron bunk beds. One of the “spies” is being a bit “difficult” in the whole “let us beat and slap and violate you for kicks” game so is hung by her wrists by the ceiling. She screams and sobs a lot.
Now some Nazi guards come in like a cattle market and choose their “lovers.” Not much like a cattle market, to be honest. Unless when you get your dairy herd home you strip to the waist and rape it on an iron bed while it whimpers and twists and sobs.
One nazi (the names couldn’t be less important. Let’s call him Coburn, as he looks a little like a young James), gets all emotional and complains that he’s only doing his job. That he’s not a big fan of the slappy rapey boob-mangling humiliation that seems a prerequisite for is role. A spy thinks this is lovely of him to be so sensitive. I mean a high-ranking member of the Maser Race. But with a “soft side.” So they, of course, have proper sex. (This tender boob-noshing and gasping cut “cleverly” between as we watch the other spy get a teary assault. See what they did there? No, me neither).
Next up, Coburn goes to “Kwipky” in order to prove what a “nice” Facist he is and requests a transfer. SS Kwipky laughs this off and forces Coburn to go and work as an assistant in the gruesome “medical lab” where hard working lesbian doctors are trying to perfect sterility by pumping foam and gunk up women’s bits. Coburn is less than thrilled.
Oh I almost forgot. The spy tied to the ceiling? Remember her? She’s eventually cut down and made to crawl naked on the floor and like the Commandants boots, which she does with a lack of gusto. And then taken to a torture room to be stripped (again) and whipped.
Oh what next. And how much more of this awfulness is there?
Well the woman have all been “promoted” to see only senior officers. So they are marched tediously into another room (clearly the same set, just with some hardboard put up) where they are then assaulted and fondled by men in sharper Nazi gear. All caps and whips.
By the way, in case one was to accidentally mistake this pseudo “based on true events” harrowing “documentary” for just gratuitous “uniforms and boobs” tittiliating tripe, Mr Businesschap provides a clipped narration throughout. Like a young David Attenborough. But shit.
Where were we? Sadly still here. A tippity top Nazi SS chap then turns up for no reason, criticises SS Qwipky for his shabby treatment of his officers and promptly asks for recompemce. In the guise, natch, of 4 of the women stripping off and sort of half-heartedly lezzing up with ineffectual moans and gropes.
Meawhile (exciting isn’t it) spy number one is then left alone with…you guessed it, what are the chances, Martha Grossman! Martha spills the beans about the rocket/jet plans thing.
And then something amazing and unexpected happens! Seriously!
The YouTube channel I was watching this on (or streaming service or swastikas-and-sluts-on-demand.com site or whatever the fuck it was) suddenly had an audio problem. This was the most stimulating part of the whole tedious 96 minutes. So I was unable to hear the sparkling THX crystal clear sharpness of phrases such as “Jawohl” and “uhhhh! Ooooh!” and “you like zat you bitch?!” which was a shame. The woman who uploaded it (I assume it was a woman) just looped the audio track over so we got the last 15mins of pictures, mixed with the first 15 minutes of sound again. So there we are, watching lingerie draped waifs fake a mixture of bored and violent intercourse with some laxidasical Nazi officers in a sort of “compilation orgy best-of/Now That’s What I Call Munich” repellent romp, while we hear the title music and Mr Britishy Businessman seal his business deal again.
So I’m going to have to surmise the ending based on visuals alone.
The women plan to seduce all the generals and catch them off guard with their trousers down. At which point the allies can burst in to rescue them. And then, in some feeble “I Spit On Your Grave” justice/comeuppance, the women can despatch all the Nazis with beatings, shootings and a lovely skewering in the neck with a corkscrew. Lots of flailing and blood. Oh and boobs bouncing about.
We cut back to the prologue where the old Brit is ending his hilarious tale of escapes, spies, intruige and violent genital violation. He leaves, gets in cab to go home. Meets up with his wife…who is one of the spies in old-age make-up. See! He married one of them! So, y’know, it sort of worked out. Except obviously this is all just revolting.
I’m going to stop now.
Is it any good?
Are we grading on a curve? Because “is it any good,” is a rather difficult question. Is it a good film, well crafted, performed, produced and displayed, demonstrating creativity and storytelling at its cinematic best? No. No it fucking isn’t.
Is it a harmlessly titillating pervy bit of soft-core boobs and whips nonsense designed to appeal to a certain type of lonely WW2 buff who has 96mins to kill and can get in a quick wank before his mum knocks on the door? Well no, it’s not really that either.
Is it a fine example of something called “Nazisploitation,” which Wikipedia calls “… a subgenre of exploitation film and sexploitation film that involves Nazis committing sex crimes, often as camp or prison overseers during World War II. Most follow the women in prison formula, only relocated to a concentration camp, extermination camp, or Nazi brothel, and with an added emphasis on sadism, gore, and degradation…”
Sigh. Yes, I suppose it is.
I was always slightly confused by films in the “exploitation” genre as a lad. Your John Waters style schlockers being tagged with this label. What was being “exploited” exactly? The cast? The crew? The audience? And when it came to genre offshoots with specific themes, such as “Blaxspolitation” and of course, “Nunspliotation” again, I was scratching my head. Is black culture being exploited to make this movie? Are nuns?
Reading a little further, it seems – and I’m sure there are ciniphiles and cineasts with their own definition – “exploitation” cinema simply exploits whatever is currently en vogue, to make some quick cash.
Take a newspaper fear, such as ASBOS and Hoodies, for example. Scaremongering stories of feral knife-weilding skate-boarding tearaways and ruffians fill the newspaper. The Daily Mail has a hysterical Op Ed about the state of the nation.
Quick thinking film makers can then, riding the wave of the cultural impact, release a movie like “Eden Lake” and cash-in on the mood of the people.
The theme, mood, class, grouping, politics or attitude you wish to “exploit” can of course be anything. Hence “Teenspolitation (Bikini Beach), Mexsploitation (Machete) and Sharksploitation (Sharknado) etc.
So who are being exploited in “Love Camp 7?” Well, it appears almost everybody. But the taboo, shock, terror, think-of-the-kiddies, hateful sadism of Nazi War Crimes and the fear of the unknown horrors of camps and doctors and evil SS maniacs is being exploited here to try and drum up some creepy, sweaty “fasctination,” I guess, for what is a rather humdrum, if toe-curlingly sadistic, beneath the counter grubby porno.
It’s incredibly cheap looking, what budget there was clearly going on renting convincing – albeit ill-fitting – Nazi uniforms. One assumes that historical accuracy is important to the porny-nazi crossover market and nothing’s going to put one off one’s stroke than a misplaced insignia or error in rank badge. Clearly all filmed in one small studio, on one sound stage, props (desks, swastika, Adoph busts, bunk beds) have been slid in and out of the one-camera set-up.
You remember Prison Cell Block H? The Australian women’s prison soap opera? Well make that on half the budget, strip all the cast down to their knickers and bung in some jackboots. That’s what we have here.
The acting and whatnot are as piss poor as you might imagine. Stilted, shouty, camp, dumb and over the top. Think Confessions Of A Window Cleaner meets Allo Allo on the set of Emanuelle.
The film has nothing whatsoever going for it. The Nazis are unconvincing, the sex is grubby, nasty, violent and unpleasant, the gore (in the final shoot out) just ketchup and reaction shots. A Maguffin of a “spy plot” cobbled together to string a load of slapping, fondling, crying and “Heil Hitler-ing” to make a nasty little piece of crap seem 2% more “taboo.”
Fuck. yes. I mean there’s all sorts of porn in the world. Apparently. Hard, soft, presumably something in the middle. Black, Latino, dwarves, POV, teen, bondage, threesomes, fetish… You name it. It’s difficult to imagine a word you could hyphenate with “-porn” and not get somekind of dark-web hit. “Animal-porn?” Probably millions of hits. “Bus-Driver-Porn”? Probably just as many. “Hassidic-Porn?” Uhm…well, I’ll trust you to check that out.
So it stands to reason that if you find some folk who like one thing (steam-trains, tuppaware, horse-brasses) and drape some boobs over the top, you have a niche bit of VHS to sell. What’s disturbing of course, is that films like these have added nudity and sex to “Nazism, violence, butchery, degredation, torture, rape and humiliation.” So our target market here is a viewer who’s either seen Confessions Of A Driving Instructor but was disappointed that Timmy Lee didn’t tie any of the buxom wives to an iron bed and whip them til they screamed. Or people who’ve watched The World At War and thought it could have done with a few more tits.
Or Prince William.
People like this exist and the Nazisploitation market blossomed from the 70s until it dies out around the mid eighties.
I assume no animals or people were harmed during the making of this motion picture. But what it says about the viewer’s tastes could lead to some troubling psychotherapy sessions.
Would banning it help? I mean I feel about this stuff like I do about many niche interests. Make it very very hard to find by accident. Make it viewable at a cost for adults on some kind of subscription set up. Get it off the shelves of WHSmith certainly. Will folk who “get-off” on this stuff resort to recreations, violent re-enactments and rape if they can’t find this sort of 2D outlet for their lusts? I don’t know. But for Chrissakes if you have to make this stuff, make it better. It may be politically appalling, the worst taste and unforgiveably exploitative. But then cinema often is. You could at least write in some jokes and light the damned set properly.
What does it remind me of?
As I said, Prisoner Cell Block H meets Confessions of a Gestapo Cleaner vs Allo Allo. Shot over a weekend by some amateur dramatic wannabes who’ve got pissed on Liebfraumilch.
Where to find it?
Must you? Oh well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Youtube has it I think. Protected under age restrictions. And…
Actually…no. Find it yourself. Christ the last thing I need right now is accusations of nazi-porn distribution. Will no-one think of the children?
Next up? Let’s see…