Nude on the Moon

Doris Wishman & Raymond Phelan – 1961 – USA

A uniquely surreal relic from the golden age of American exploitation films, one that is virtually impossible to translate to today’s world.  Like her contemporary Herschell Gordon Lewis, Doris Wishman was an accidental auteur, not a filmmaker by avocation but an entrepreneur who recognized an untapped market for movies that could feature salacious material still forbidden by the Hollywood code.  Lewis specialized in gore and Wishman went for nudity.  These films could be shown in drive-in’s and grindhouses, and their audiences were certainly blue collar but they also quickly developed a cult following among film enthusiasts who had a taste for the bizarre; (John Waters is a famous example).  Like most in the same genre, Nude on the Moon boasts horrendous production values, comically bad acting and a ludicrous premise; namely that the moon – (well-known by 1961 to be devoid of life) – is actually populated by a nudist colony; a cult ruled by a queen who communicates in whispered voice-overs.  Two male astronauts from earth think they’ve landed in heaven, of course, but their adventures amount to little beyond being led, very slowly, around a Greco-Roman outdoor set, being whispered to by the topless matriarch, and generally being very confused.  There are movies that are ‘so-bad-they’re-good,’ but I consider this film and others of its kind slightly higher in value.  Intentional or not, there is a sensibility present that is endearing in its strange mixture of amateurism, prurience and humor.  The appeal of Wishman’s and Lewis’ films, as well as those of diverse and more rigorous auteurs of the same era – Russ Meyer, Stan Brakhage, Andy Warhol – revolves around the potent idea that untrained and outsider voices can provide a shot of adrenaline to cinema just as well as, if not better than, industry professionals.