1963 had two other nudie cutie movies.  Bare Hunt was shot in black and white, and She Should Have Stayed in Bed was shot in color.

I had my doubts about the format of the She Should Have Stayed in Bed, so washed out was the color, until I got hold of the trailer.  This was one of Gigi Darlene’s first movies, which makes the miserable condition of the DVD border on the tragic. I used the DVD for the clip and the first two collages,

but then in the trailer (see above) and in the third collage you see The Goddess of All Things Grindhouse in vivid color.  She was to die for as a blonde but as a redhead Gigi was off-scale.

She Should Have purports to show the viewpoint of a cameraman as he follows women around from one apartment to another, with a running gag about a wedding cake and a repeating performance of Audrey Campbell brushing her hair.

Through it all is the voice of he who is supposed to be the director, speaking lines written by the wife of the real-life director; they are amusing in the same sense that Tiger King’s comments at his husband’s funeral were.  

A few other women revealed in their natural habitats are:

Alice Denham,



Davee Decker,



Monica Davis



and Terry  More (decidedly not Terry Moore, once the wife of Howard Hughes). 

I failed to recognize two other women, who have the longest scenes:

Unknown 1 is in the best scene of the whole movie, but I have no clue who she is.



And Unknown 2 is not only in the film



but also shows up in the trailer, so I grabbed a frame of her from it.




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Bare Hunt also uses voice over for most of its length, as a detective follows a trail of dead women who had been naked only moments before they met their maker. Not so much a whodunnit as a who gives a shit about it, the movie manages to reveal:

Jimmie Marcell (wearing pasties??!!!) in the beginning,



followed by Karen Moore,



Paulette Kire,



Sherry Holden



and Shirley Skiles



at an establishment called Myrtle’s Modeling, as seen in this film clip.

Someone manages to slip a noose around Ms. Moore’s neck without her noticing anything amiss until the noose tightens, such is the magic of hemp.

The detective hangs out a pool with Betty Peters and Angela Webster - not at all sure which name belongs with which person - and then with Marge London in a verrrryyy long photo shoot.

It all ends when he confronts Marilyn Savage, his secretary and serial murderess. 

The scene with Ms. Savage is the only one shot with dialogue, and by the sound of it, the director set up a microphone in the kitchen but shot the scene in the living room.  Ms. Savage is a hoot to watch as she goes from enticing - y’all wouldn’t shoot little ol’ me because I am too sexy for my shirt - to seriously pissed off in less than a second.  She then runs out the door.  Roll credits. 

This is what grind houses had to offer their customers in 1963, desperately awful movies for desperately horny men.  And the producers could get away with it because in the early 1960’s they had no competition.  All of that would change in the space of 5 years and when it did, grindhouse would become much more interesting.