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Skinopsis

The story, as Maude Lebowski said it, is ludicrous, but that doesn't stop this earnestly ironic tit festival from being mounds of fun. The main attraction to this campy, shot-on-video desert romp, of course, is the legendary rack of former gubernatorial candidate Mary Carey. I'm not one of those anatomy experts who can tell you whether a lady's funbags are real or not, but, in this case, it doesn't matter. Either way, Carey's tits are a goddamn miracle. Her big audacious sacks swing out from her body with the flesh jiggling like your favorite flavor of Jello. See, she's got a fat chick's tits without being fat which is the mammarial equivalent of having your cake and fucking it too, as the man said. If that's the work of a surgeon, then it just might be the greatest work ever done in a plastic surgeon's office. She, of course, whips those puppies out any time that it could conceivably make sense, and sometimes when it doesn't. Often, they pop out from her shirt and she does nothing, as she is the most unself-conscious, sweetest pair of knockers that you will ever see. We get to see those tits covered in honey, engaged in some double-the-fun lesbian action, smushed against the table while their owner is spanked and fucked by a rugged, crazy old man. It is, to say the least, a series of awesome spectacles.

The plot concerns this guy James (Sean Andrews) who's like Zach Braff but with even less testosterone (if such a thing is possible) who's come to his crazy father's desert ranch for the summer on his break from college. His crazy father, Hezekiah, has a thing for women way out of his league, spouting long melodramatic campy monlogues, and sculpting the female form out of meat. When the beautiful women start winding up dead, both father and son suspect one another.

The movie is strongest in the first third when Carey gets the most screen time. The music consistently evokes the warm, mindless soundtracks of various genres of daytime TV which, somehow, makes the presence of gigantic boobs even more pleasing. Carey's aren't the only dazzling gazongas to make an appearance. Practically every woman in the film (excepting the hitchhiker and the girlfriend in the epilogue) gets significant airtime for her nipples. Juliette Clarke, Sally Jean and someone called Lucia all have oversized, fleshy racks of lamb hanging off their chests and, goddamnit, they're not afraid to show them.

Pervert! often feels like a cartoon in its zaniness which inspires an instant level of comfort and familiarity in the audience. Often very funny and filled with tasty looking meat (both the literal and female variety,) it's the sweetest little slice of Skingoria that you'll ever want to watch over and over again.

-- Rick Stanko