Mau Mau Sex Sex

"This is what's wrong with movies today -- not enough bloody crotch shots!" opines Basket Case director Frank Henenlotter, only half kidding, as he watches some assorted clips from the filmographies of David Friedman and Dan Sonney, two latter-day carny barkers who peddled exploitation films for years. All the good stuff you don't get to see in film school is here, including plenty of black-and-white nudity, cats' eyeballs being eaten, sex with gorillas and films carefully shot at nudist colonies to avoid showing frontal genitalia or implied intercourse. Nowadays, Friedman and Sonney are like Grumpy Old Men Redux, bickering over the names of Bond girls or apocryphal anecdotes they've heard about one another. When the movie focuses on their personal lives, it loses steam (basically, they're old, love their wives and kids and are surprised anyone cares about their old work), but the clips alone make the film worth watching, as do some of the anecdotes surrounding the films' promotion, such as the injunction the filmmakers filed against one of their own movies to generate controversy, only to find they couldn't lift it later; or the titular Mau-Mau, a documentary about Africa into which was spliced staged scenes of actors playing natives raping and killing. No B-movie fan, save perhaps the extremely obsessive for whom this is old hat, should miss it.