Teenage Bride (1975)

Be prepared to be blown away by not one, but TWO redheaded sex queens: Sharon Kelly AND Cyndee Summers, one of the earliest hardcore porn starlets. They play the two women in the life of chubby greaseball jerk Charlie (guess he has a thing for redheads). He’s married to Sandy (Summers), a cutie with sparkling eyes who hates his guts and forces him to eat frozen dinners because she can’t cook. Charlie’s so sick and tired of her bitching and moaning he begins shacking up with busty neighbor Marie (Kelly), who has sweaty sex sessions with him almost every night. But Sandy’s no faithful wife herself, as she wastes no time making the moves on Charlie’s young college student stepbrother Dennis, who stops in town for a few days on his way to Florida. To make things even stranger, Charlie’s cute blonde secretary has the hots for her boss. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of sexual intrigue to go around, especially after Charlie hires an alcoholic private eye who schtupps his secretary in the office to catch his wife in the act of adultery to get a divorce.

Despite the cool exploitation title, there is no Teenage Bride in this sexploitation tale of marital bliss gone sour. But that doesn’t matter, it’s a cool, sexy, funny flick with nice photography (even some dolly shots!), excellent editing during the pretty good sex scenes, and a great soundtrack by Vic Lance (a maddeningly miserable song about personal reflection that plays over and over throughout the film is a real earworm). If that isn’t enough reason to see it, there are some good boom shadow shots, Summers gives perhaps the performance of her career (which continued into her 40s in hardcore films), you can see nasty pimples on Charlie’s legs during sex (eww), a stoned Peter Jackson lookalike shouting “far out” every five seconds, and almost non-stop “hard” softcore sex, the Novak way. By the Novak way, I mean unattractive guys and drop dead gorgeous women knocking boots like they just don’t care.

With such a scandalous title, one would expect a truly creepy experience in perceived pedophilia. However, Cyndee Summers looks nowhere near being teenage, and is never once referred to as jail (or any other kind of) bait. Indeed, the film’s name could merely be a publicity put-on, a surefire way to get the automanipulation throng to pack the peep show. This 1970/1975/1977 (it’s hard to pinpoint a date on this sucker) excuse for screwing is about as close to the insertion and explosion of actual adult industry material as a sex film can get without testing for possible pregnancy. All mathematical parameters between Charlie, Sandy, Dennis, and Marie are explored (except in the Sappho department) and though she is barely (pun intended) featured here, Sharon Kelly again stands out. Her winning smile and perfect body made her a real draw, and she was not a bad actress either.