Beneath the Valley of the Ultra-Vixens 4K 1979 Ultra HD 2160p

Story Movie

All the inhabitants of a small American town only think about sex. The most insatiable of them all is the mulatto Lavonia, which leads to a series of grotesque erotic episodes.

Review 4K Movie

Russ Meyer timed his latest career spurt to coincide with the last year of his best decade in filmmaking. There are no surprises: the familiar hysterical meggers have everything to fuck with, and no man (if he's a man) escapes. The plot starts with a dramatic episode in the spirit of “scenes from family life”: luxurious Lavonia seduces her husband Lamar - an incomplete impotent in every possible way: she calls out her charms, splashes a dildo in a bottle of lubricant, slides it between her breasts and readily indulges in fellatio. But her husband rudely interrupts the process, taking her from behind, replacing the under-the-table oral with over-the-table anal. The humiliated Lavonia goes off into the night to forget her humiliation, first with a trucker, then with a teenage virgin, then with a traveling salesman. And she's understandable. Just because a woman looks like a whore, acts like a whore, doesn't mean she's a whore, and it certainly doesn't give her the right to be treated like one. Lamar realizes this, too, as he serves his black, two-hundred-pound boss, who is going through a marital discord. Promiscuity is no obstacle to sincere love. What us Homer and Bergman - that's where the true comprehension of human nature!

An unshaven, phlegmatic farmer in soiled overalls broadcasts the chronicles of the town from the seat of a pickup truck. In the finale, he personally greets Russ himself (who not coincidentally is on the other side of the camera) and gives a master class in possessing a woman's body, causing the earth to shake and the rocks to take on the shape of labia. And there's more! Therapeutic sex radio, clots of colorful blood at characters, intimacy in a coffin, aggressive gay dentist, tender lesbian - dentist's assistant, large-caliber dildo, cauterization of a causal place with a fiery lamp, use of a sock as a condom dash of arousal..... The aesthetics of “The Valley of Ultrameger” is rich in unusual specific fantasy, and the heroes' path to a happy ending is eventful and tortuous.

There is an opinion that Meyer parodied “provincial” Hollywood morality tales. Hypocritical passive men and small-breasted skinny girls of the Midwest. They are all prudes with dirty thoughts, and they have no place in the Sacred Valley, where women have their souls open, their legs apart, and love for the whole world has no boundaries. You can laughingly, whispering into your fist, “yeah, and the world is one solid functioning scrotum, hee hee.” So what? There is still more life-giving in animal fucking than in making money for your old age, in accumulating material possessions. Think metaphorically. The world without local movies has long been likened to a stale seed in a unscrewed scrotum. You'd rather make love to Meyer's “wives” than war with Stepford's or whatever.

Russ Meyer, for all his stylistic blandness, is more of a theoretical philosopher than a second-rate pornographer. Like the explorations of the Marquis de Sade, the actual sex in his films is mechanically detached and emphatically comic. The importance of the message stems from the general impression of a twisted model of intersexual relations, the conflicting essence of which is the axiom: a man has intercourse when he can, and a woman when she wants to. So much for the revanchism of civilization with the male charisma of the ruler. A decent meger will be offended if she is offered a breast enlarger and advises penis enlargement in response. “Give me a boy and I'll give you back a man” is Lavonia's motto. The credo of a true mistress of the universe - natural and honest.

Titsy babes with bouffant hairdos, pouty lips, and furry pubes greedily crave erect phalluses. The craving is eventually satisfied, but the visualization of this satisfaction has as much to do with sex as an allegorical explanation to an eight-year-old about the structure of stamens and pistils. Graphic sketches about people with superpowers, super size, super libido: from vulgarity to vulgarity, from vulgarity to funny comedy, from funny comedy to boring idiocy.

Megers - women, the type of which will not choose a spouse of any sane man. But they are not bitches, not lustful bitches, not mythological literary nymphs, obsessed with rabid uterus. Tragic figures of the theater of doom, statisticians of spermic reveries, boyish and masculine dreams, whose place is in the shameful recesses of the imagination, on toilet pinups, in hard drive files. Not desperate housewives, but desperate. Amazons tapping into the root of fertility for purposes idle, sinful, and unashamed of it. Meyer is the only one who saw human dignity in the despicable priestesses of philistine fantasy. He doesn't stoop to satire. How vulgar it is to rehash what Balzac Steinbeck, Chekhov, and Steinbeck have already said about the philistine; what Kazan, Pekinpa, and Chabrol have filmed. It is better to sing an ode in honor of the shallow mind of the redneck, driven by existential problems into an imaginary valley of super heifers, who do not need to be milked according to regulations. They themselves will milk and milk anyone with their available blades and vents of physiological relief.