The Massage Parlor Murders!. Exactly what it sounds like. Typical 1970s drive-in yarn from the 42nd St. grind house fare offering a LOT of medium local talent and a lack of budget for proper coverage of actors, AND dubbing.So many scenes are MOS, it suggests the problem of NOT having enough dough to re-shoot, or ADR. Still, these particular films from that segmented era of time bring forth some of the most fascinating artifacts. For starters, the mark of vintage NYC in the day when things couldn't have been for in-your-face blunt. There is certainly that. Also, it is commendable what some filmmakers can accomplish with such limited resources. There's plenty of ambiance and character (by character I mean NYC itself) to provide the common viewer with fascinating elements beside the random thrills.What we have is, naturally, a homicidal nut , preying on the sleazy, lustful, and unfortunate looking women working Massage Parlors in the Times Square area. The premise alone could have been grounds for an ABC or CBS movie-of-the-week (MOW), however, the production company, big-wigs, whom-ever and however you wish to refer to them, needed a quota on nudity and cheap violence. Naturally, directors Chester Fox and Alex Stevens pad out the running time with said filler content to the point that it becomes predictable and boring. That's not always a bad thing, except that naked women with fake blood poured on their bodies hardly makes an impression. Onto more positive aspects, we have a few great lead performances.George Spencer as lead Detective Rizotti. He's honest and straight-forward with a slight humor to him. Right out of a typical cop show of the times, thrust into the degrading and cheap sex and violence. As most films are time capsules, he is never-the-less entertaining and endearing in his own right. John Moser displays absolute charisma as side-kick Det. O'Mara. He has movie star looks, ferocious physical attributes, and a sensitive demeanor. A perfect leading man, who, baffling enough, only has an alleged "Dallas" episode as his following credit on this site! (?) It's a shame he didn't carry this one through as the head detective, and other higher budgeted projects like it. Then there's the always remarkable Sandra Peabody (nee Cassell) of original 'The Last House on the Left (1972') fame. It's assuredly criminal that she, herself, never rose above such tawdry affairs as this. She always displayed perfect commitment to pathos in every role she had in her short B-Movie career. Each performance finely tuned to fit not only the character, but the script and intentions themselves. Fans of her, and they are many, will be satisfied by this aspect alone, if nothing else.The rest of the cast consist of obvious raw, inexperienced NY talent that bring forth endearing ambiance, which says a lot considering there isn't too much credibility among the rest of the production values amid the pedestrian circumstances. 'Massage Parlor Murders!' is none-the-less a film to be loved by it's adorning fans despite it's stance in a long line of sub par drive in fare which remains mediocre at best. Really, it's no higher than a Roger Corman picture from New World Pictures at that same time, yet all those films resonate positively and still hold up to this day. "Massage" and it's peer titles do not.

A religious-fanatic psycho targets frequently-nude massage parlor girls who give new meaning to the term "table service" if the money is right. How can one possible screw that up that gold exploitation scenario? Just ask the makers of MASSAGE PARLOR MURDERS, because they manage to turn it all into one big, colossal bore with an aimless and meandering plot, endless filler, padded scenes, lethargic pacing, a mostly dull cast, a sleep-inducing light jazz score akin to what you'd hear in a waiting room and a surprisingly conservative hand when it comes to dishing out the sleaze. Sure, a dozen or so chicks get naked and there are moments of (mild and poorly executed) violence, but you can see better elsewhere in hundreds of other more entertaining films from this era. I always wondered how a film like this could have possibly bypassed the entire video revolution of the 80s and 90s without ever getting released on home video but now I fully understand why: It's boring as hell!Police Lt. Jimmy Rizotti (George Spencer) and Det. Danny O'Hara (John Moser) are on the case when a topless masseuse named Rosie (Chris Jordan) has her face smashed into a mirror and is then strangled with her own bra. Numerous other ladies soon bite the dust as the cops try to get to the bottom of things, Jimmy deals with his nagging / uptight wife Emily (Marlene Kallevig) and Danny starts getting cozy with Rosie's more straight-laced roommate Gwen (Sandra "I never appeared in another film after LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT" Peabody / Cassell). Though we hear numerous eyewitness accounts of the killer being a clean cut businessman, the investigators spend most of their time interrogating scumball types like a pervy parlor owner who sits around reading Screw Magazine and Rosie's sugar daddy "Mr. Creepy" (George Dzunda in his film debut). They also pay a visit to an insane astrologer, who's played by the inimitable Brother Theodore. He rants and raves about a bunch of nonsense ("My sleeping pills are messing up my horoscope and when I listen to rock n roll my eardrums bleed!") until one of the cops can't take it any more and punches him in the gut!Some of the victims have acid poured on their bodies and one is sliced up, but these scenes really aren't gory and every scene involving action of any kind is clumsily directed and edited as to remove any possibility of them having any impact whatsoever. There's also an extended car chase, long scenes of people walking around in the streets accompanied by pointless narration or voice over, lots of theater marquees (which are at least fun to look at), a male customer stripping down to a one-piece leotard and doing ballet (?!) and an even more WTF scene set at a swinger's party where everyone frolics around nude and have chicken fights in a swimming pool filled with balloons. There were just two scenes I found amusing in this one. The first is the opening bit showing one of the girls (Annie Gaybis) fleecing every red cent she can out of a guilty married man and the second was a scene where a bunch of the girls sit around knitting, bitching about how weird their customers are and talking about going to see SHAFT'S BIG SCORE. Other than that, I found my attention focusing on the clock counting down the minutes until it would finally end.This was filmed under the title "The Seven Deadly Sins" (a concept that eventually helps the detectives unravel the mystery... although it makes no sense whatsoever!) and was reissued to theaters under the title "Massage Parlor Hookers" with the tagline "If you've never been to a massage parlor, this is a visit you'll NEVER forget!" Ironically, I doubt I'll remember a thing about this one a week from now. Keep your eyes peeled for Frank Henenlotter movie regular Beverly Bonner (BASKET CASE), who can be spotted for all of five seconds as a massage girl in a red dress.

A deranged and ferocious killer terrorizes the sordid red light district of Times Square in New York City by savagely bumping off the lovely young ladies who work at massage parlors located throughout the area. It's up to grouchy veteran detective Rizotti (solid George Spencer) and his more cheerful younger partner O'Mara (likable John Moser) to figure out the maniac's identity and apprehend the fiend before he strikes again. Directors Chester Fox and Alex Stevens do a sound job of creating and sustaining a perfectly sleazy tone from start to finish, deliver oodles of tasty female nudity, stage a wild car chase with rip-roaring gusto, and offer a marvelously seamy time capsule of dirty'n'dingy 70's New York complete with foul backrooms in seedy massage parlors, grungy fleapit theaters (check out those incredible double bills on the marquees!), raunchy newsstands with issues of Penthouse for sale (keep 'em peeled for issues of Screw magazine as well!), filthy back alleys, and even a swingin' naked orgy at a public pool. The murder set pieces not only are quite ugly, brutal, and twisted, but also have a nifty religious motif concerning the seven deadly sins that predates "Seven" by over two decades. The game acting by a sturdy cast of familiar exploitation cinema faces keeps things humming: The delectable Sandra Peabody of "The Last House on the Left" fame projects an utterly winsome charm as the sweet Gwen, adorable blonde pixie John Sarno soft-core regular Chris Jordan makes the most out of her regrettably brief screen time as the lunatic's first victim Rosie, Anne Gaybis has a brash ball as the sassy Sunny, the singular Brother Theodore contributes a stand-out loopy'n'lively turn as wacko astrologer Theodore, and, best of all, there's even an early appearance by a very young and then unknown George Dzundza as pervy client Mr. Creepy. Victor Petrashevic's rough and unpolished cinematography provides a suitably scroungy look. The funky-throbbing score hits the get-down groovy spot. Good scuzzy fun.

"Massage Parlor Hookers" (otherwise known as "Massage Parlor Murders!") is something of a disappointment, promising more titillation and trash than it ultimately delivers, so exploitation fanatics are advised not to get their hopes up too high before viewing it. It doesn't even show off that much female flesh. Even the one sex scene is rather tastefully done. The movie is very crude, yet undeniably it's so incredibly amusing at times that this helps to keep the rating fairly high.Detectives Rizotti (George Spencer) and O'Mara (John Moser) are on the trail of a ghoul slaughtering the young lovelies who work in NYC's massage parlors. For Rizotti, it's personal: one of the victims, Rosie (soft core / hard core pro Chris Jordan) was a favourite of his. And O'Mara gets close and personal with Rosie's roommate Gwen (Sandra Peabody of "The Last House on the Left" '72).Choppily edited and graced with a very loud, yet enjoyable music score, this movie does offer some entertainment. It can boast one good car chase in which the person doing the pursuing is clad only in a towel, a series of tacky murders including death by stabbing, a face smashed into a mirror, and acid poured over a lady's body, a memorable WTF moment where the detectives watch a masseuse with a client - a portly ballet dancer in a leotard who moves to the strains of "In the Hall of the Mountain King", and a priceless revelation where Rizotti finally figures out the motive behind the killings - while in church, no less. Brother Theodore has one hysterical scene as a potential suspect, and the movie also has some value as a curiosity: it's an early screen credit for prominent character actor George Dzundza, playing a client with the moniker of "Mr. Creepy". (Dzundza also takes an assistant director credit.)Even at 80 minutes long, one CAN feel the padding on this thing. As adult fare goes, it's decent enough, but won't be as sleazy or as sexy as some viewers will want.Seven out of 10.