1 review
Watching films from the Bluebird catalog is a treacherous undertaking, because many of them feature company owner Paul Chaplin indulging himself on screen unbearable fashion. Such is 'Ello 'Ello!, apparently a send-up of some local Britcom, with PC on screen for 3 hours.
His partner in crime is Ben Dover, equally hammy but slightly more proficient in music hall patter and even a song & dance number, not ready for prime time porn.
The show is set in France during the German occupaion of World War II, with friendly Nazis and poor taste abounding. Though production values are poor (only stock shots of the countryside break up the claustrophobic studio sets (in England) where humping occurs, yet Chaplin spent plenty of money on a lengthy roster of international porn ladies to fill his penchant for orgy scenes. The only one who stood out (literally) for me is Kristi Love, easily breast in show thanks to her amazing naturals.
While Chaplin's Mr. Sardonicus smile and hairy legs are virtually impossible to watch, he makes the film even worse by adding a laugh track, merely to remind us we're watching a XXX send-up of TV filler. His Bluebird Films has already gone belly-up, but I wish some of its crummiest Chaplin vehicles had been consigned strictly to landfill rather than lingering (as remainders) on DVD.
His partner in crime is Ben Dover, equally hammy but slightly more proficient in music hall patter and even a song & dance number, not ready for prime time porn.
The show is set in France during the German occupaion of World War II, with friendly Nazis and poor taste abounding. Though production values are poor (only stock shots of the countryside break up the claustrophobic studio sets (in England) where humping occurs, yet Chaplin spent plenty of money on a lengthy roster of international porn ladies to fill his penchant for orgy scenes. The only one who stood out (literally) for me is Kristi Love, easily breast in show thanks to her amazing naturals.
While Chaplin's Mr. Sardonicus smile and hairy legs are virtually impossible to watch, he makes the film even worse by adding a laugh track, merely to remind us we're watching a XXX send-up of TV filler. His Bluebird Films has already gone belly-up, but I wish some of its crummiest Chaplin vehicles had been consigned strictly to landfill rather than lingering (as remainders) on DVD.