El erótico y loco túnel del tiempo (1982, José A. Rodríguez)
Production company: Exclusivas Molpeceres P.C.
Written by Ramón Pérez-Molpeceres B.
The premise is simple and, perhaps, no more original than the occasional recourse to accelerated motion for comic effect but it does serve the film’s main purpose: that of offering as much coital mimicry within its 80 minute running time, in keeping with the common policy of the Spanish “S” film in its late stages. El loco y erótico túnel del tiempo was finished in 1982 and released in 1983, which was precisely the genre’s last year to speak of, when the country’s sex films were still softcore in imagery but close to hardcore in narrative structure.
The film’s protagonist Perico (Paco Maldonado) is a nerdish, bespectacled science student whose bedroom, rich in both girlie posters and sci-fi imagery, is also well provided with books, including the complete works of H.G. Wells. Accordingly, his room also harbors a time machine of his own invention, with which he intends to journey to those historical periods offering the strongest promise of an easy lay. If in danger, he need only press a device on his watch to return to the safety of his home. The settings visited are Ancient Rome, a Bagdad harem, a prehistory of cavewomen, Ancient Egypt and a future in which men (but not women) have ceased to exist so guess what. The template of each of the different sketches is as follows: Perico, in whatever period, finds himself in the company of half a dozen women (including Alicia Príncipe and Rocío Freixas) and is invited to join in an orgy in which the woman often turn to one another for pleasure; finally, a repressive or jealous male (always played by Francisco Andrés Valdivia) breaks in whereupon the hero, for his own safety, travels back to the present. After these five segments are over, there is an epilogue with a twist I could see a mile away and a second twist I could also see a mile away.
What is interesting here is the presence in the credits of the distinguished art director Wolfgang Burmann and the relative care invested in the various backdrops – as opposed to the much skimpier look of, say, the period softcores of Jaime J. Puig - as well as the rather good photography of Tote Trenas, subsequently much active in the big time. The film’s look is also helped, in a different way, by the presence of Elena Álvarez, a frequent presence in Madrid-made “S” films of the early 80s. And as in several of these Madrid soft-porn films, the director is an unknown, possibly from the assistance or production side of filmmaking, whose career as a director appears to have started and ended with the genre. Or he may be the José A. Rodríguez Pipo credited as a supporting actor in some other films produced by the Molpeceres Brothers, a team that was incidentally currently making a great deal of money out of the Dallas spoofs starring Pepe Da Rosa and giving work to Francisco Lara Polop, the director of Murder Mansion.
Rocío Freixas, Paco Maldonado and an unidentified actress.
Francisco Andrés Valdivia