The House on Bare Mountain (1962)

What can we say about The House on Bare Mountain (1962)?  It is a comic sex movie that, for many years I recall, a certain notoriety based upon its title and some vague plot synopses, but that nobody writing about it ever seemed to have actually seen it.  Well, having sat through it twice in twenty four hours, (a result of late night indolence - I was too lazy to change channels, despite the fact that the streaming channel I was watching was showing the same, barely time-shifted, schedule two nights running), I feel that I can make as good, if not better assessment of the film than most of the others I've encountered online.  The most interesting thing about The House  on Bare Mountain is the way in which it tries to unite multiple sub-genres in one film to present as broad an appeal as possible.  Obviously, it is predominantly a nudie movie, packed full of topless girls, bouncing breasts and bare bottoms.  But to provide a framework for these sights (I won't call it a 'plot', it is far too flimsy for that), it draws in elements of the girls school genre, the backwoods/hill billy film and, most notoriously, the teen horror flick.  Thanks to the makers' awareness of the ludicrousness of the whole enterprise and a firmly tongue in cheek approach, these elements gel surprisingly smoothly.

Granny Good, (played by producer 'Lovable' Bob Cresse), runs a sort of finishing school for girls, (Good Grandma School for Good Girls), in a ramshackle house atop a mountain.  The school, as it turns out, is really a front for her moonshine operation, which she runs with the help of a henchman who is also a werewolf (although he seems permanently stuck in wolfman mode).  The cops, meanwhile, are on to her racket -  her latest student is actually an undercover cop - and the Werewolf Union has been called in by the henchman, who is fed up at not getting the either the minimum wage or overtime.  It all culminates with a fancy dress party at which some of the guests are apparently the real Frankenstein's Monster and Dracula.  All of which, of course, is simply an excuse for the girls to take their tops off - to take showers, get undressed for bed or to do their outdoor exercise class, with the camera unerringly zooming in and lingering on their bare breasts.  Production values are, not surprisingly, basic, (the actors playing the monsters at the party are simply wearing fright masks, although the werewolf make up is surprisingly good for a film of this sort, reminiscent of that worn by Glenn Strange in the old PRC  programmer The Mad Monster).  But despite a shoestring budget, the film is put together very professionally, with well set up shots, reasonable pace and incisive editing - shots don't carry on too long, scenes are kept short and dialogue straightforward.  The framing narrative, with Granny good apparently behind bars telling us the story in flashback, is well handled, leading to a finale where it is revealed that things aren't quite as we initially assumed.

Director R L Frost and producer Cresse are familiar names in this parish: later in the sixties they moved on from this sort of nudie picture to Mondo movies, producing both their own compendiums of fake footage - Mondo Bizarro and Mondo Freudo - and repurposing footage from genuine Italian Mondos, (Witchcraft '70, which cannibalises White Angel, Black Angel, adding some new footage to produce a 'new' film). Bob Cresse's eventual demise lends a bizarre footnote to his career - while out walking his dog, Cresse witnessed two men beating a woman and pulled out a gun and challenged them.  One of the men pulled out his own gun, shooting and seriously wounding Cresse and killing his dog.  Not having health insurance, the subsequent hospital bills effectively bankrupted Cresse, halting his career in sexploitation.  He died in 1998 of a heart attack, aged only 61.  While one shouldn't make light of such a bizarre and tragic events, I can't help but hope that Cresse was dressed as Granny Good when he pulled that gun - it would just seem so apt.

So, what can I say about The House on Bare Mountain?  Well, by today's standards, as a sex comedy, it all seems pretty tame.  I've seen its style likened to a British Carry On film or Benny Hill with added nudity. In truth, with its leading character in drag, I'm put more in mind of a sexed up Old Mother Riley movie.  Although, I would say that, despite the gags being universally corny, Bare Mountain is far more enjoyable than any Arthur Lucan film I've ever seen.  The gags might be pure corn, but they did at least make me smile a couple of times.  To label The House on Bare Mountain a sex comedy is misleading - there is no sex whatsoever on display, just lots of bare bums and boobs.  The film stands as another reminder of just how quaint and innocent yesterday's smut seems today. Still, it has to be said that the movie packs a lot into a sixty two minute running time - none of it of any consequence, but it is all harmless.  Which is probably the best way to describe The House on Bare Mountain: harmless.