Ed Wood Wednesdays, week 273: 'Plan 69 from Outer Space' (1993)

This was director Frank Marino's other Ed Wood parody from the 1990s.

It is surprisingly easy to romanticize the adult film industry of the 1970s. This was the decade of "porno chic" when it briefly became fashionable, even respectable, for couples to attend X-rated movies. The stars of these productions, like Linda Lovelace, Harry Reems, and Marilyn Chambers, became household names. The movies themselves were shot on actual film, and directors like Gerard Damiano and Radley Metzger actually attempted to tell stories. This is the era eulogized in Paul Thomas Anderson's Boogie Nights (1997), which ends just as the industry is pivoting to home video.

A year after Anderson's film, the Coen Brothers released The Big Lebowski (1998), a noir detective spoof in which Ben Gazzara appears as an adult film producer named Jackie Treehorn. He's a gentleman of the old school, this Treehorn, and he laments the sorry state of his industry when he meets Jeff "The Dude" Lebowski (Jeff Bridges). When Treehorn denies being in "the smut business," the Dude brings up one of the producer's recent films, a decidedly-unclassy affair called Logjammin'. This prompts a little soliloquy from Treehorn:

"Yes, regrettably, it's true. Standards have fallen in adult entertainment. It's video, Dude. Now that we're competing with those amateurs, we can't afford to invest in little extras like story, production value, feelings. Y'know, people forget that the brain is the biggest erogenous zone."

This prompts a flippant rejoinder from the Dude: "On you maybe."

So is it true? Did all the artistry vanish from adult movies when VHS became the dominant format? Last week, I reviewed director Frank Marino's shot-on-video Ed Wood parody Glen and Glenda (1994) starring Steven St. Croix and Kaitlyn Ashley. While the movie is not going to be confused with a Radley Metzger classic anytime soon, it's not entirely artless either. Marino was certainly familiar with Ed Wood's filmmaking style and was able to do an affectionate, detailed pastiche of it.

Another direct-to-video classic.

And so, when I saw that Marino had directed the previous Wood porn parody Plan 69 from Outer Space (1993), I decided to check it out. Like Glen and Glenda, Plan 69 was released by Caballero Home Video, the company founded by Ed's longtime employer Noel Bloom, Sr. And the two films even have a cast member in common: porn legend Peter North, a man with over 1,600 credits. (That means he has more IMDb credits than Mel Blanc but not quite as many as Shakespeare.)

This week, I consider myself especially lucky because the YouTube channel barefoot and independent has posted what it calls a PG-rated edit of Plan 69. It contains just the plot and dialogue but none of the sex and nudity. (The channel has a whole series of these videos.) Trust me, after a decade of watching numerous pornographic films for this series, it's a relief to be spared the sight of genitals at least once. Besides, in the adult movies that Ed Wood made in the 1960s and '70s, the sex scenes are always the most boring parts.

So how is Plan 69? Well, it's jokier than Glen and Glenda, that's for sure. It starts with a wacky title sequence narrated by the director, who identifies himself as "The Amazing Foreskin." Now, you may be wondering how we got from "Criswell" to "Foreskin." How is that an acceptable pun? Well, the film is cleverly referencing another "amazing" celebrity from the mid-20th century: George Kresge, Jr. better known as The Amazing Kreskin (1935-2024), a mentalist who was a staple of late-night television for years. Criswell and Kreskin would have been contemporaries. The latter is even interviewed in Facts, Fictions, and the Forbidden Predictions of the Amazing Criswell (2023). To be honest, I came along a little too late to witness the golden age of Criswell, but I saw Kreskin many times on Carson and Letterman.

Cris... er, Foreskin's opening monologue goes like so:

"Good evening. I am the Amazing Foreskin. The story that you're about to see is true. Yes, this shit actually happened. I realize it might be difficult for your feeble minds to comprehend, but there are life forms that exist outside of our galaxy. Life forms that are bent on the total domination of other civilizations. Life forms with such superior intelligence that the human race would tremble in its presence. Join me as we present to you the chilling true story of what happened when aliens from the planet Dworkin set out to consummate their evil plan. Plan 69 from Outer Space."

I'd say that's a fair approximation of Ed Wood's writing style, though there is no credited screenwriter on this film. Frank Marino, by the way, seems to be weaving in and out of a Bela Lugosi impression during that speech. Note, too, the reference to radical feminist author and provocateur Andrea Dworkin (1946-2005), who was one of the era's loudest voices on topics such as prostitution and pornography. The world seems to have moved on from Ms. Dworkin in the ensuing 32 years, but that joke probably got a laugh in 1993. I'll also point out that the main characters are identified not by their first or last names but with such campy descriptors as "beautiful rocket scientist," "hero-type pilot," "inept space alien," and "zombie in Dracula costume."

Two cockpits: Plan 9 and Plan 69.

Wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses and actually looking fairly cool, Peter North plays our "hero-type pilot," the smirking, overconfident Major Biff Bummer. Winsome brunette Beatrice Valle is his "willing co-pilot," Miss Iva Honeypot. They're in a cockpit set that is closely modeled after the one from Plan 9. That set is one of the most notorious aspects of the original movie, so it's nice to see it recreated here. Anyway, Miss Honeypot is worried about a possible alien invasion, but Major Bummer insists: "That only happens in cheesy science-fiction melodramas." Then, bothered by a strange humming sound, our lovely co-pilot goes to check on the (unseen) passengers: Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and The Big Bopper. Those guys have the worst luck with air travel.

Bummer and Honeypot then spot a flying saucer made out of paper plates. As diehard Ed Wood fans know, the unconvincing, wobbly spaceships in Plan 9 were actually UFO model kits from a company called Lindberg, but in the film, they certainly resemble paper plates, pie plates, or even hubcaps. (I've seen them identified as all of these.) Plan 69 does a fair share of "paper plate" jokes. Presumably, the pilot and co-pilot have sex after surviving this near-miss with the aliens, but the PG-rated edit deletes this scene entirely.

We now move on to two bikini-clad women sunning themselves in deck chairs on a set that somewhat resembles the Trents' patio from Plan 9. As we soon learn, these attractive, poofy-haired ladies are both rocket scientists: Tina (Dyanna Lauren) and Melanie (Celeste). Tina longs for some excitement in her life, and the radio announces that Biff Bummer's plane went down over the "Gwanji Valley area." So there's another reference thrown in. I'm sure most/all of you have seen The Valley of Gwanji (1969). I first caught that film on TV as a child and was convinced for years afterward that it was merely a strange dream I'd had.

Tina and Melanie spot a flying saucer, and we are introduced to two aliens: the evil and erudite leader Katspoo (Woody Long) and his inept and nearly-inarticulate subordinate (Blake Palmer). Both are wearing shiny silver jumpsuits, and when we meet them, they are arguing over who gets to use the ship's only telescope. For reasons I don't know -- perhaps something further explained in the full-length movie -- the aliens have various dots and arrows drawn on their faces. They talk about how they need some human brains to complete their diabolical plan. Then the evil alien declares: "The director still has leftover footage from his last horror film, The Dead Smell Bad. He can splice it right in." Yet again, I am impressed with the depth of Ed Wood knowledge in this parody. Keep in mind, this was 1993. Tim Burton's Ed Wood hadn't even come out yet!

If you've seen the original Plan 9, you've probably already guessed that this sets up a scene in which a character dressed as Dracula sneaks into a woman's bedroom. And that's exactly what happens. Our hapless zombie is played by adult film lifer Brad Armstrong (veteran of 300+ films), and he trips and falls over his own cape when he enters Tina's boudoir. She's busy combing her hair, however, and doesn't initially notice him. He staggers toward her but stumbles again. Interestingly, at one point, we see Brad Armstrong sneaking up on Dyanna Lauren in a mirror. (So he's obviously not a full vampire.)

Our oblivious heroine Tina eventually notices that there's a guy dressed as Dracula in her bedroom, but she's hardly frightened of the intruder. Instead, she takes a little pity on him and tries to engage him in conversation, but he has those fake plastic Dracula teeth in his mouth and can't speak very well. Actress Dyanna Lauren then flubs one of her lines, giggles, and apologizes to the director. The scene briefly fades to black, and we see a question mark on the screen. They start the scene over again and continue as normal. Deliberately leaving in a blooper seems like another nod to Eddie's often-slapdash way of working. 

Tina tells the zombie that she recognizes him from The Dead Smell Bad and compliments him on his "cheap costume." She takes out his fake vampire teeth and gives him a breath mint before they make love. Meanwhile, back on the spaceship, the aliens are impatient that the pseudo-Dracula is taking so long. Ed Wood fans will probably notice that the equipment in the background is very similar to what the aliens in Plan 9 have aboard their ship. They decide to go down to Earth and finish the job themselves.

The alien spaceship.

And what of our hero, Biff Bummer (the parody's stand-in for Jeff Trent)? Well, it turns out he parachuted to safety, using Iva Honeypot's brassiere. Iva herself didn't make it, sadly. As he tells his wild tale to Melanie, the other rocket scientist, director Frank Marino adds some film grain and uses jump cuts to make this scene look like something out of a '50s B-movie.  Another nice touch.

A few deleted sex scenes later, Melanie, Tina, and Biff are all aboard the alien spaceship. Katspoo lays out his fiendish plan: he will take the three Earthlings back to Dworkin, remove their brains, and send back robotic clones in their place so that they can "infiltrate the government." 

And why do the aliens even want to conquer such a primitive planet as Earth? Mainly for the pizza and bagels you can get seemingly anywhere on our planet, "except Los Angeles." They've already cloned Iva Honeypot, who casually demands her bra back. In the great tradition of Jeff Trent, Biff tries to punch the evil alien right in the nose, but he's instantly vaporized by a laser gun. So the Plan 69 aliens have more effective weapons than their counterparts in Plan 9. Ultimately, though, they're just as unlucky as their 1950s predecessors. The aliens' ship explodes with them in it. I guess the alien and humans all perish.

Really hamming it up, Frank Marino delivers a final benediction:

"So you see, people of Earth, don't be so quick to laugh at the stories of extraterrestrial beings among us. Why, the person sitting right beside you in this very theater could well be... ha ha ha!"

Then he starts coughing, obviously too overcome with emotion to continue.

Look, I don't want to oversell something called Plan 69 from Outer Space. It's a no-budget, deeply goofy porn parody that was probably made in an extremely short amount of time. The production values are just barely above those of a snuff film. This is no masterpiece for the ages, in other words. But it is an enjoyable, good-natured, and sharply-observed parody of the films of Edward D. Wood, Jr. I'm certain that Eddie would have been flattered by this, though he would have wanted a cut of the profits.

Let's be realistic. To most viewers, an adult film is merely a delivery system for nudity and sex scenes. That's all it has to be. As long as it serves up the necessary body parts (and in great quantities), we're satisfied. So anything else that a director does on top of that is a bonus. Frank Marino went well beyond what he was required to do when he made this movie. For that, I salute him.

P.S. The YouTube edition of this film is part of a series called Squeaky Clean Adult Films hosted by the gregarious Jason Heath. Before and after the movie, he gives his thoughts on Plan 69 from Outer Space and its overqualified cast and crew. Enjoy!