The Curse of Her Flesh (1968)

I have no idea what the hell went on in this film. This here's a gold-plated grindhouse fleecing, with all involved parties putting the absolute minimum effort and coherence into the venture. There's a short bit near the end involving a woman, a man and a large vegetable that manages to be memorable just through it being different, but this is pretty much just exploitation cinema as medicine-tent show, ready to be packed up and moved the hell out before the audience can realize they've been had; the credits are written as bathroom-wall graffitti, if that tells you anything.

Grade: D-