A noble message indeed. And a practical one.
It's a sexploitation flick, so can we forgive its many idiocies and incompetencies? Yes and no. Yes, in the sense that I forgive every B-movie's incompetence, because that's what makes them fun. What's there to forgive? I love the fact that fools and hacks made so many low-budgies in the 50s and 60s. But that doesn't mean I am willing (or able) to ignore their stupidity.
After all, NOTM starts with a whopping 25-minute introduction, during which it's absolutely no different than any other sci-fi flick of the era. During this rather slow, breast-free section NOTM gives us lots of scientific gobbledygook; the movie attempts to be at least somewhat serious. Otherwise why bore the audiences with budgets, schedules and temperature shifts on the Moon? We learn that the young scientist is completely oblivious to women, most importantly to his secretary, who is smitten with him.
Plenty of nonsense, no way of including it all in one review. The usual space sci-fi cheese about getting the rocket ready for a historic mission (in this case a task as easy as organizing a picnic), and then the usual easy-as-punch lift-off. No stray passengers this time though! Which is odd... Perhaps the "writers" weren't aware of the unwritten rule that every Moon or Mars mission MUST have a stowaway...? Then the awesome landing: the astronuts doze off, yet perfectly land! This is where B-movie cosmonuts show total supremacy compared to overrated hacks such as Armstrong and Aldrin.
In Florida. They land in Florida. Not the Moon. Sorry to disappoint, but the movie uses some rather blatant false advertising.
The two astro-nuts marvel loudly at the amazing scenery, it's just a pity that the director wouldn't show us any of it. Still, I'd rather be a viewer than an astro-nut because these two are forced to wear rather gay costume-ball outfits that even the most eccentric and fey of superheroes might adamantly refuse to put on. They find gold, bicker about it, then they get briefly "kidnapped" and zapped(?) by the Moon Queen, played by none other than the love-interest secretary! Though why not? It's not like they'd gone THAT far: they're in bloody Florida!
And yet, they wear helmets. Well, "helmets" which don't cover their heads entirely - but they do have some sort of completely unnecessary breathing devices. Why the visors though? They lift them up occasionally, to have a closer look (at breasts, for example), then shut them down again! Why not just take them off, you clowns! We never ever find out why... Then again, we also never find out what two morons are doing in Florida exploring the "Moon" while dressed as dandy futuristic hairdressers, either. Couldn't they have simply bought train or plane tickets like everyone else?
After discovering a "civilization" (well, 11 naked people standing around sun-bathing), they don't seem to for a moment show either shock or even at least surprise. In fact, they find the flora much more interesting than the boobage! Sort of like "oh, some nude women... we'll get to them later, we must first examine these fascinating plants".
After being zapped, for no discernible reason, and vaguely "imprisoned" (a "jail" from which they could have waltzed out any time they wished), they are "released" (well, sort of, vaguely "escorted" out), and are now free to do the usual Florida tourist thingy. The writer is such an utter nitwit that the elder scientist/tourist tells his young colleague TWICE about gold being needed to finance future missions. The writing is so dumb we even have a role-reversal whereby the young astro-moron loses interest in the "scientific aspects" of the mission (whatever those may be in a Florida park) and has to be admonished by the elder one. Just minutes earlier the younger one had to admonish the elder one that "we're here for scientific purposes"!
Needless to say, it's as if a 12 year-old wrote this script... for his Soft-Core Pawn class. (Don't laugh. They probably have those in "progressive" Sweden.) The sort of script that would probably fail him in any half-way demanding Goteborg Pown School.
And directed by a 5 year-old. The editing, the same shots being used over and over, unrelated scenes being glued together stupidly, day-and-night transitions, ultra-awful anti-continuity...
Unfortunately, NOF (Nude In Florida) overstays its breasty welcome by a half-hour. At least. By the 50-minute mark, at the latest, NOF shoots off all of its load/ammunition, and after that there's nothing left but senseless, dull repetition. Sure, nine naked women are featured over and over (the kind of repetition I really don't mind), but whenever they're not part of a scene it is pure drudgery.
Still... there's that awesome ending, with its poetic, noble, righteous, feminist message. The young astronaut unwillingly goes back to Earth, depressed because he is leaving behind the Moon/Florida Queen/Earth-Secretary. But!... Upon returning to work, the dope finally realizes that his secretary and the "alien" floozie are the same woman. And so man once again proves that love for a woman cannot properly blossom until and unless she takes her clothes off.
So he can inspect the goods. Of course. Makes perfect sense. I'm not being sarcastic.
It's a sexploitation flick, so can we forgive its many idiocies and incompetencies? Yes and no. Yes, in the sense that I forgive every B-movie's incompetence, because that's what makes them fun. What's there to forgive? I love the fact that fools and hacks made so many low-budgies in the 50s and 60s. But that doesn't mean I am willing (or able) to ignore their stupidity.
After all, NOTM starts with a whopping 25-minute introduction, during which it's absolutely no different than any other sci-fi flick of the era. During this rather slow, breast-free section NOTM gives us lots of scientific gobbledygook; the movie attempts to be at least somewhat serious. Otherwise why bore the audiences with budgets, schedules and temperature shifts on the Moon? We learn that the young scientist is completely oblivious to women, most importantly to his secretary, who is smitten with him.
Plenty of nonsense, no way of including it all in one review. The usual space sci-fi cheese about getting the rocket ready for a historic mission (in this case a task as easy as organizing a picnic), and then the usual easy-as-punch lift-off. No stray passengers this time though! Which is odd... Perhaps the "writers" weren't aware of the unwritten rule that every Moon or Mars mission MUST have a stowaway...? Then the awesome landing: the astronuts doze off, yet perfectly land! This is where B-movie cosmonuts show total supremacy compared to overrated hacks such as Armstrong and Aldrin.
In Florida. They land in Florida. Not the Moon. Sorry to disappoint, but the movie uses some rather blatant false advertising.
The two astro-nuts marvel loudly at the amazing scenery, it's just a pity that the director wouldn't show us any of it. Still, I'd rather be a viewer than an astro-nut because these two are forced to wear rather gay costume-ball outfits that even the most eccentric and fey of superheroes might adamantly refuse to put on. They find gold, bicker about it, then they get briefly "kidnapped" and zapped(?) by the Moon Queen, played by none other than the love-interest secretary! Though why not? It's not like they'd gone THAT far: they're in bloody Florida!
And yet, they wear helmets. Well, "helmets" which don't cover their heads entirely - but they do have some sort of completely unnecessary breathing devices. Why the visors though? They lift them up occasionally, to have a closer look (at breasts, for example), then shut them down again! Why not just take them off, you clowns! We never ever find out why... Then again, we also never find out what two morons are doing in Florida exploring the "Moon" while dressed as dandy futuristic hairdressers, either. Couldn't they have simply bought train or plane tickets like everyone else?
After discovering a "civilization" (well, 11 naked people standing around sun-bathing), they don't seem to for a moment show either shock or even at least surprise. In fact, they find the flora much more interesting than the boobage! Sort of like "oh, some nude women... we'll get to them later, we must first examine these fascinating plants".
After being zapped, for no discernible reason, and vaguely "imprisoned" (a "jail" from which they could have waltzed out any time they wished), they are "released" (well, sort of, vaguely "escorted" out), and are now free to do the usual Florida tourist thingy. The writer is such an utter nitwit that the elder scientist/tourist tells his young colleague TWICE about gold being needed to finance future missions. The writing is so dumb we even have a role-reversal whereby the young astro-moron loses interest in the "scientific aspects" of the mission (whatever those may be in a Florida park) and has to be admonished by the elder one. Just minutes earlier the younger one had to admonish the elder one that "we're here for scientific purposes"!
Needless to say, it's as if a 12 year-old wrote this script... for his Soft-Core Pawn class. (Don't laugh. They probably have those in "progressive" Sweden.) The sort of script that would probably fail him in any half-way demanding Goteborg Pown School.
And directed by a 5 year-old. The editing, the same shots being used over and over, unrelated scenes being glued together stupidly, day-and-night transitions, ultra-awful anti-continuity...
Unfortunately, NOF (Nude In Florida) overstays its breasty welcome by a half-hour. At least. By the 50-minute mark, at the latest, NOF shoots off all of its load/ammunition, and after that there's nothing left but senseless, dull repetition. Sure, nine naked women are featured over and over (the kind of repetition I really don't mind), but whenever they're not part of a scene it is pure drudgery.
Still... there's that awesome ending, with its poetic, noble, righteous, feminist message. The young astronaut unwillingly goes back to Earth, depressed because he is leaving behind the Moon/Florida Queen/Earth-Secretary. But!... Upon returning to work, the dope finally realizes that his secretary and the "alien" floozie are the same woman. And so man once again proves that love for a woman cannot properly blossom until and unless she takes her clothes off.
So he can inspect the goods. Of course. Makes perfect sense. I'm not being sarcastic.