Please…Mr. Postman (1981)

One of the lesser known “Lewis Brothers” flicks proves to be among their all time best. Producer Elliot (whose real identity remains shrouded in mystery to this very day…) jumpstarted the whole myth, engaging various friends to pose as “brother” Louie and “sister” JoAnn, then making their way across the US of A to shoot cheap ‘n’ cheerful carnal quickies that made good many times on their initial investment. The fact that they always managed to get hold of some of the biggest names in the business certainly didn’t hurt matters either. What people often seem to forget about adult’s so-called Golden Age is that both the talent pool and number of films produced was but a minuscule fraction of what we have out there today. To put it bluntly, if performers wanted to put bread on the table, they couldn’t afford being too picky about some of the projects they appeared in. Not that the Lewis Brothers represented any kind of industry nadir, far from it. Their frugally produced features frequently looked as though they had spent a budget several times bigger than they actually had at their disposal, thanks to the photography and editing skills of talented technicians invariably unaccounted for in the concise credits.

Their mainstream knockoff 8 to 4 (now take a wild guess !) may have been their most financially rewarding title but was seriously overrated by both fans and critics alike at the time, the presence of superstars like Annette Haven and Lisa DeLeeuw notwithstanding. Being a huge Veronica Hart fan myself, I would personally place Touch Me in the Morning (taking its title from the syrupy Diana Ross ballad) at the top of my shortlist. Please…Mr. Postman and Memphis Cathouse Blues (Dolly Parton’s The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas with sex instead of songs) would share a close second place, well ahead of the sleeper trio of Trashi, Brief Affair and Her Wicked Ways. I’m not even going to mention “11” or the lamentable Ladies Night ! The premise is simplicity itself. Overworked postal delivery person Barbara Cohen (lovely Loni Sanders) barely has time for a quickie with fellow postie Jesse Adams, the prototypical blonde surfer dude making out on the yacht with Sharon Kane in the Tom Janovich trifle Small Town Girls, before both have to rush out for their daily delivery rounds. The letters and parcels they deposit provide the set-up for the various erotic episodes.

When a freshly developed home movie turns out to be a porno loop (featuring, for the record, Phaery I. Burd, Anna Turner and an uncredited Shaun Costello making a rare appearance for another filmmaker, by his own admittance in order to generate some quick cash for a project he had trouble completing through overexpenditure on nose candy !), the action on screen is mirrored by Tigr and Lynx Canon (a/k/a “Jean Damage” from Fred Lincoln’s stellar Same Time, Every Year) in a tremendous Sapphic number. I particularly like Tigr (a/k/a “Chelsea Manchester” and one of the great jailbait types in adult, despite her being well of legal age, leading to lecherous Lenny Kirtman casting her in both Coed Teasers and The Erotic Adventures of Lolita, see image below) acting all flabbergasted by the flick, effectively seaguing into Lynx’s masterful seduction of her inexperienced girlfriend. Luscious Loni actively takes part next in the superb Nina Franks shrine sequence with Richard Pacheco as a doting fan mistaking her for a famous Hollywood actress and requesting her to model a lacy bit of lingerie she wore in “her last film with Al Pacino”. Charming interaction and superb chemistry highlight this sparkling encounter that rightfully plays to the performers’ strengths. While he’s being all funny and nervous, tripping over his pants in excitement, she’s adorable and giggly.

Sorority sisters Misty Regan (star of Chris “John Christopher” Covino’s delightful Velvet High and Lawrence T. Cole’s surprisingly atmospheric Inflamed) and rarely seen Sonya Sommers (who has thankfully discarded her braces since Gerard Damiano’s Never So Deep) find a package full of sex toys delivered to their doorstep, courtesy of horny frat brothers Mike Horner, Blair Harris and Perry Mann (also in Juliet Anderson’s pioneering video All the King’s Ladies) who naturally proceed to join in the fun. A lonely pervert – Milton Ingley (a/k/a “Michael Morrison”) who seems to go for a heavy breathing Peter Lorre impersonation – makes a few phone calls from the ads in his dirty magazine and winds up with demure, white-wearing Erica Boyer (this Hall of Famer, who was sadly killed in a car accident little over a year ago, should need no introduction) and domineering, black-wearing Nicole Noir (Mata Hari in Edwin Brown’s appropriately titled Irresistible), the lucky sod! By far the most outrageous scene has frustrated housewife Holly McCall, who won Best Supporting Actress award for Sam Weston’s Nothing to Hide and does despair really well, trying to lure TV addicted husband Paul Thomas away from his favorite game show by impaling herself on a male blow-up doll ! Most unusual for a movie made in the early ’80s, there’s a preponderance of sex toys permeating almost every scene. Remember this was when they were still being euphemistically referred to as “marital aids” and invariably credited to Doc Johnson. I’ve often deplored their use as a staple ingredient in girl/girl scenes, decrying the actresses’ laziness when fingers and tongues would’ve done the job just as well, but here they’re employed with an infectious curiosity by people still feeling their way who don’t always seem to know exactly what to do with them. Call it the shock of the new or the joy of discovery, but either way it works a treat.

At one hour and peanuts, this snappily paced movie never wears out its welcome, juggling sex scenes with deftly executed bits of physical comedy as Loni and Jesse struggle to make their rounds, scored with a brass band rendition of Oh! Susanna. It should also have great crossover appeal. The sex, which I would categorize as goodnatured raunch, will satisfy the most hard-up of raincoaters while the breezy and often surprisingly sophisticated humor could quite easily win over the couples crowd. In fact, if there’s one minor drawback to this flick, it’s the somewhat sparing use made of its shining star, the elusive Loni Sanders, the Jane Seymour of porn and perhaps most memorable playing Costello’s Beauty. A mere two sex scenes in the first half hour represent but a meager harvest for stargazing fan boys. The Lewis Brothers tried to make up for this oversight with another vehicle for her talents, the supremely silly Every Which Way She Can, forcing her to portray a Stetson-wearing wrestler named “Clit Westwood”!

Directed by Louie Lewis. Produced by Elliot Lewis. Starring Loni Sanders (Barbara Cohen), Jesse Adams (Ben), Lynx Canon (Eleanor), Tigr (Suzanne), Richard Pacheco (Ralph), Nicole Noir (Ripper), Erica Boyer (Mary), Holly McCall (Betty), Misty Regan (Carrie), Michael Morrison (Stanley), Sonya Sommers (Linda), Mike Horner (Chris), Blair Harris (Tim), Paul Thomas (Bud), Shaun Costello (Porn Stud), Perry Mann (Bob), Phaery I. Burd & Anna Turner (Hot Tub Girls). Running time : 72 minutes.

Great things come in small packages : the petite yet positively perfect Loni Sanders

By Dries Vermeulen