One million years after a great war wiped out most of civilization, human beings finally reestablish themselves as the dominant force on the planet. Considering science to ultimately lead to the downfall of man, humans evolve their technology far enough to create Fleshapoids, robots encased in synthetic flesh. The Fleshapoids are dedicated to catering to every whim of their human masters, who now live in paradise, growing fat on ice cream cones, Clark bars, sex, ignorance and wax fruit.

A fair trade-off for world peace, right?

However, in the 20,000-year span the Fleshapoids have existed, the machines begin to evolve along with their human counterparts. A Fleshapoid named Zarn becomes one of the first victims of emotion and decides to revolt against his masters in order to be with his object of desire, Melenka, another Fleshapoid who tends to Gianbeno and Vivianna, a cruel and effeminate prince and his cheating wife.

Zarn manages to break into Gianbeno’s residence and to express his love for Melenka just at the moment when Gianbeno is realizing his own wife’s infidelity. Vivianna thwarts Gianbeno’s attempts to find out the truth by throwing him down a staircase, thus giving her enough time to tell her lover to get dressed (in a football uniform, no less) – but she finds out her partner’s motives and promptly finishes him off before he can get away with her jewels/Christmas ornaments. Shortly thereafter, Gianbeno awakens to find a post-robo-coital Zarn and Melenka and realizes that the Fleshapoids’ growing sentience is a threat to all mankind and must be destroyed.

Sure, it might come off as soap-opera-y melodrama in text, and possibly unwatchable when considering the film’s dialogue plays out in comic book-esque speech bubbles, but Sins of the Fleshapoids is an enjoyable, easy-to-follow bit of surrealist nonsense. The surrealism mainly stems from the juxtaposition of just how ambitious the film actually is and what the filmmakers could actually afford. What should come off as a science fiction epic is relegated to what seems to be the director’s basement. Actors are shrouded in togas made out of bed sheets; sets are painted with simple house paint, and even crayon. The budget seems to have been blown entirely on sparklers and children’s toys.

Yet the film still comes off successfully by managing to balance camp with serious commentary, all with a straight face, and especially by having a fairly short running time. A film like this would have been absolutely dire if it had been filmed as a full-length film, but the brisk 40-minute running time is near perfect. And, above all else, it has a narrative. And I haven’t seen one of those in a very long time. Hooray!

Since Fleshapoids runs a scant 40 minutes, Other Cinema packs in two additional films by Mike Kuchar: The Secret of Wendel Samson and The Craven Sluck. All three films are vastly different from each other, but they all are of interest; from Samson’s somber and honest tone about a man trying to find happiness in his sexuality, to the true embracement of camp in Sluck, where a married woman falls in love with a married man who abuses his own seemingly retarded wife… And then the flying saucers show up. While I think Fleshapoids is the most entertaining of all in the set, Samson is the best overall technically, while Sluck can be a bit rough to get through, with its disjointed storytelling and multiple scenes that tend to run overlong. Combined, you have about 90 minutes of true “What the hell?” footage to spring on both your friends and enemies.

Presentation
Of course, you wouldn’t expect the best video quality when the original source material is a low-budget short filmed in someone’s basement over 40 years ago on 16mm home video equipment, but don’t lower your expectations just yet. Yes, the print does feature a consistent amount of damage and odd editing, but the detail is decent and the color is exceptional. Originally told the film stock had little use outside of the home market, director Mike Kuchar must be having the last laugh over just how vibrant the film looks. As for the audio, I’m assuming this is a simple 2.0 mono track. Slightly shrill but never distorted, the film is full of string music pulled from whatever vinyl could be found.

Extras
Director Mike Kuchar is joined by actor Dan Carbone on three commentary tracks for each film. Since these films were made up on the spot, there isn’t much discussion about the stories themselves, but what you do get is a lot of information on the making of a low-budget flick. Especially good is when Kuchar tears into his own film, specifically on the commentary for Sins Of The Fleshapoids, when an actor is deemed “decorated beef,” suggesting that if your actors can’t act, hire even worse actors.

There is also a pair of trailers for The ‘70s Dimension (a audio and visual collage of pop culture clips which makes me feel both sad and very, very happy to be born in the ‘80s) and the science fiction film Tribulation 99.

Overall
A painfully acquired taste, if you enjoy the early works of John Waters, this might be of interest. If your dream is to see a combination of low rent ‘70s porn and Douglas Sirk melodrama, check it out. If Crayola-ed sets, wax fruit and wackiness isn’t your thing, steer clear.