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Dir. Jacques Boyreau
Sci-fi fans are a very special breed of people. They hoard their copies of Kamandi: The Last Boy on Earth with a certain endearing shame, and get caught up in seemingly incoherent conversations about Rudy Rucker and the Fourth Dimension with their sci-fi brethren.
But beneath the veneer of geek is almost always the obligatory chic whose vision is as far-reaching as its fashion sense (Star Trek was, after all, the first national show to star a black chick in a miniskirt).
Fashion and design are one of sci-fi's most accessible and universally-appreciated qualities; from the future-cities of Metropolis and Just Imagine to the slick costuming of Planet of the Vampires and Flash Gordon, sci-fi is consistently the perfect amalgamation of style and substance.
Not only that, but sci-fi reeks of sex. And nowhere is this more shamelessly apparent than in Jacques Boyreau's low-budget sci-fi extravaganza, Candy Von Dewd.
Candy Von Dewd takes place in a barren future where 'Rocket Leroy' expeditions are sent out into space armed with the experimental potency drug Vakuta-16 to seek out 'seedable' life forms (which leads to quite a bit of intergalactic frolicking and all the multicolored latex that entails).
The film carries influences from science fiction films of the '50s through '70's, but has a certain 'beat' sensibility that sets it apart from the established canon of sci-fi homages/parodies. In musical terms -- and the film moves along at a lysergic musical pace -- it's like Scott Walker and Serge Gainsbourg collaborating on John Carpenter's Dark Star.
Brimming with sexual energy and boasting the incredibly creative deployment of its admittedly modest budget, Candy Von Dewd marks a return to the kind of exploitation films that matter.