Classic Horrors Club

Paul Bartel was an openly gay filmmaker who also appeared on screen in over 90 movies and television shows. He directed his first feature film, Private Parts in 1972, which was produced by Gene Corman. Gene’s brother, Roger, subsequently hired him as second unit director on Big Bad Mama (1974) and director on Death Race 2000 (1975.) Bartel died from a heart attack two weeks after surgery for liver cancer.

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Private Parts (1972) opens with credits and music that made me think it was going to be a super scary movie. It’s not. However, although it leans heavily into the dark comedy, it has some distinct characteristics of a horror film. For example, when Mike (Len Travis) walks down a hall of the King Edward Hotel, an arm reaches out from one of the doorways and lops off his head. We then see the body being pushed into the incinerator.

The first part of the film seems to be a mystery about the identity of the killer, but at some point it shifts focus to one of the residents, George (John Ventantonio.) He’s a handsome, but solitary, photographer who compensates for lack of personal engagement with trips to the local adult bookstore and by sleeping with a blow-up doll filled with water. What he does when he’s “finished” is kind of horrific and best left to discover for yourself.

Cheryl Stratton (Ayn Runmen), a young runaway, finds her Aunt Martha (Lucille Benson) managing the aforementioned hotel and is temporarily given a room on the condition that she promises not to wader around. She, of course, does wander around and discovers secret rooms and peep holes. Consequently, she encourages George and becomes the object of his affection. Jeff (Stanley Livingston), whom she met at the locksmith where she had her Aunt’s keys copied, is just too dull for her.

She wants excitement and she gets it, defying her strict Aunt’s scolding when she plasters makeup on her face. “Weak women… I tell you, child, my daddy didn’t have any use for those silly, painted-up creatures. Married one anyway. It was the ruination of him.” She also tells George exactly what she thinks of her niece. “I thought she was just a child. But she’s like all the rest in this family. Can’t wait to wiggle her little body to get men all riled up.” 

The residents, including Reverend Moon (Laurie Main), a man with both religious and gay fetishes, aren’t the only strange characters in Private Parts. As portrayed by the wonderful Lucille Benson, Aunt Martha clips obituaries from the newspaper for her scrapbook and visits funerals of strangers with her camera. “At certain funerals, you can actually feel the liberation of a spirit from the prison where it’s been a captive.”

The movie as a whole is uneven, but not dull. The male gaze of the director is omnipresent from the opening scene in which we see Mike’s naked rear end to the lingering shots of George’s chiseled face and thick head of hair.  Oddly, we don’t see him shirtless, but that ends up being more a plot point than a directorial decision. (No spoilers.) I enjoyed it for what it is, but would probably prefer to check out Bartel’s Eating Raoul, made a decade later.