Nude on the Moon

An astronaut dozes off before landing and dreams a lunar paradise ruled by a telepathic goddess who is the secretary at work he never noticed.

The expedition is financed by a late uncle in the fur business.

The full moon in a dark sky opens to reveal a porthole in the rocket hatch.

I’m moonin’ over you, my little moon doll,

With a sad and broken heart;

I’m moonin’ over you, my little moon doll,

For soon the time will come to part.

 

I’m cryin’ over you, my little angel,

Who lives high in the sky;

I’m cryin’ over you, my little angel,

For back to Earth I soon must fly.

 

I lost my love to a moon doll

Who dances on a star;

I lost my love to a moon doll,

And my heart still bears a burning scar.

 

I long for you, my little moon doll,

A nymph in the pale moonlight;

I pine for you, my little moon doll,

For it’s you who make the moon so bright,

For it’s you who make the moon so bright.

 

Diary of a Nudist

A variant of the one about the old lady who complained to the police about a man undressing outside her window. “I don’t see anything,” says the detective. “Of course not,” the old lady replies, “go up to the attic window with these binoculars.”

A newspaper editor out hunting stumbles on a nudist camp. Shocked, he returns to the office sixty miles away and sends his top reporter, who happens to be female, undercover for an exposé.

Which is the occasion for Wishman sublimities.

Disappointed at her reports, he goes there himself, writes in favor of the rassurante activité, and declares his love.

 

Blaze Starr Goes Nudist

To get away from the hot lights of Hollywood, a variant of Wishman’s previous Diary of a Nudist.

Beautiful Titra dubbing, beautiful Eastman Color, sublime Sunny Palms Lodge in Homestead, Florida.

Great little jazz score, swinging.

Her agent and fiancé follows her to find out where she goes on weekends, her press agent is irate. “Well! Of all the contemptible—”

And D.W. is on the warpath.

Duchamp’s game of chess, outdoors.

“This is the gratitude I get for all I’ve done for you!”

“...You’re more interested in your ten percent commission than you are in me.”

Daniel Wolf (or Wolff) the studio chief spends his weekends incommunicado...

Blaze Starr (née Belle Fleming) signs on the dotted line, the great artiste.

 

My Brother’s Wife

Charm of the real, the naked anecdote.

Titra Sound, La dolce vita, charm of art.

A Lubitsch equation.

Notable camera innovations are crowned with a double shadow play at the centerpoint.

A film of classical shape and poise.

“THE END” on a blurry television screen.

Eahhh, he’ll get over it.”

The dyke cousin rounds off the formula.

Central Park well-seen and photographed. Great Wishman score, jazz and modern.

“This must be a bad dream. If it is, I don’t want to awaken.” A suicide with a faintly puzzled victim.

 

Indecent Desires

The magic of a ring and a doll on an office worker with a beau.

This has been acknowledged as a work of genius, and no more need be said.

 

Deadly Weapons

Hitchcock’s preparation in Frenzy and Cassavetes’ (or Lumet’s) analysis in Gloria do not eclipse the original genius of Wishman’s masterpiece.

She is the cat’s twat of directors, beginning with the star reflected as the Earth goddess, and in sum total making an erotic poem beyond compare, of the highest order.

Critics say abstain.

 

The Immoral Three
Hotter Than Hell

Daughters of the enemy, their mother a greedy agent for the AIC, Agent 73, who leaves an inheritance.

They track down her murderer, in New York, Las Vegas, Fresno, Miami, per the instructions in her will.

“This is much, much better than Mission: Impossible,” says the eldest.

The screenplay is assuredly a masterpiece for its revelations of character and plot delivered so casually in the search for suspects.