Inside Désirée Cousteau

I had the flu one day in 1981, and no cable. Even in LA, there isn't always anything good on free TV. So I dragged myself out of bed and rented this title, along with the Lenny Bruce Performance Film. At a time when the cheapest VCR still cost $600 in 1981 bucks, I'd recently purchased two used VCRs with different things wrong with them for a total of $150. They worked when connected together, and weighed as much as small refrigerator.

I got the idea that Cousteu wasn't Desiree's real last name, even without the help of IMDB, because she pronounces it differently in different scenes.

Late in the film, there's a scene where she "does" a gent well into middle age. I assume a producer or pal of one of the filmakers, as he didn't have a porno physique. Desiree gives it up, but you can see she's definately not into it. The mature gent enjoys himself; there are no weird angles to expose the old in-n-out. "Good for him," I thought, though I am only now reaching his age.

In this age of implants, one has a tendency to take a jaundiced look at spectacular bodies. I wasn't hip to this in '81, when the process was much less common in any event. So I don't know how I'd react now. But she was a real beauty, or so it seemed at the time.