Cox's collection also diverges from Spike's by introducing two strange and sexy films by women: Frances Lea's Oh Julie!, and Emily Skinner's The Perfect Man.

Cox's collection also diverges from Spike's by introducing two strange and sexy films by women: Frances Lea's Oh Julie!, and Emily Skinner's The Perfect Man..

The Saint Inspector. © bolexbrothers.

Oh Julie! chronicles a night of passion aided by augmented body parts and other accouterments. Julie won't be seen naked before she has tucked her excess fat out of sight with alligator clips and put on a big blonde wig, and a special pair of "oral sex lips". She greets her lover under a blue light, a là Flashdance. As he switches the music to change the mood, she puts on larger breasts. Julie's not the only one worried about superficial inadequacies. The man is ashamed of his pot-belly and he fussily relocates unsightly tufts of body hair. When Julie is less than impressed by his sexual equipment, he straps on a giant flashing glow-in-the-dark dick, and is pleased to see it inspire her operatic appreciation. There is also an unexpectedly happy ending: they wake the next morning, their apparatus cast aside, and find they have genuine affection for each other.

Emily Skinner strikes a more macabre note in her puppet film, The Perfect Man. A mustachioed dandy gallops up and scales a high tower to "rescue" a sweet, innocent-looking damsel. She captures him and ties him down, for what he thinks will be a kinky little tryst, but turns out to be a bit of unasked-for surgery. The golden-tressed beauty is building the perfect man and she wants his contribution.

The Donor Party © Laurence Arcadia

Good Lookin' Stuff
I found some of the films notable for their looks, like the computer tweaked Victoriana of Laurence Arcadia's The Donor Party. Flat cutouts are assembled into hallways using "2.5D software" from Apple. Through his opera glass, our hero/spy observes a corseted belle, a dog-faced man, and some experimental surgery eagerly watched by a roomful of the surgeon's past mistakes. I'm partial to Eric Fogel's Mad-Max-like student film Mutilator. I always liked the weird look, atmosphere and pace of his MTV series The Head. In Espresso Depresso, some handsomely stylized beanery stereotypes meet a bad end at the hands of a distracted valley-girl waitress. The splatteriffic Performance Art by Chainsaw Bob is surprisingly well-designed and pleasant to watch. I also enjoyed Beat The Meatles' misshapen "Head" Sullivan, and the gloriously ugly "Meatlemaniacs" who say things like, "I wanna touch one afore I die!" Joel Brinkerhoff's Zerox & Mylar has an interesting half-drawn, half-sculpted look, but it's Tom and Jerry derivative humor failed to amuse me.

I've got mixed feelings about the Manga-commissioned Hungry Hungry Nipples, a deliberately crude and under-animated piece carried by music and wall-to-wall narration. The fake French accent is funny, especially saying things like, "He killed their happy motherfucking asses". It bothers me, however, that the "Nipples" rap song which retells the character-crammed tale of Jean-Jean, his nasty Mom, the bow-tied, two-legged Nipples, the Evil Cat and "the flying Richard Nixon baseball bat" is a hell of a lot funnier than the story as pictured.