Dr. Abe Adams is a scientist who does science things like type on a typewriter and pour frothy liquids from one container into another. He is a serious scientist doing serious science. None of that soft science horseshit like political science or psychology. We’re talking hard science here — chemistry and biology and the study of sex-making.
Dr. Adams’ girlfriend comes over. He puts on overly dramatic classical music to set the mood. They go at it on a plaid couch. Extra special attention is placed on her nipples. There’s tonguing of the ears, which makes me involuntarily wretch. We’re two minutes into the movie and there’s already heavy petting. So far, so good.
The scientist has created the philosopher’s stone, which if you recall, is something that can turn shit into gold. But there are a lot of other things it can do. For example, it counters “sexual frigidity,” removes “corruption from the body,” postpones decay, and prolongs human life. But most importantly, it can transform you into an insatiable poon-hound or a cock-hungry minx. Side effects include bloody tears, erections, sexual assault, and dry mouth. Maybe some vertigo.
This is hogwash, you say! Why, this isn’t science, this is alchemy! It’s mysticism! Dr. Adams puts on a thick chain with a baller gold medallion.
“Science and mysticism can be merged! And I shall be the first!”
He laughs maniacally and drinks an elixir made from his philosopher’s stone. He gasps. He chokes. He makes a pained o-face. He looks like he’s passing a kidney stone or having sex with a bear trap. He cries tears of blood. Then he finds a gay guy named Casey and feeds him some philosopher’s stone. Now Casey is gawking at ladies and going on a rape spree.
“I gave her a surprise . . . then I gave her something else.”
Looks like the philosopher’s stone can also cure gayness!
Soon ladies in the neighborhood throw themselves at Dr. Adams, and he quickly understands the sheer power of his wang. But then it becomes too powerful. Another side effect of the philosopher’s stone is “enlarged genitalia.” Is there anything this stone can’t do?
Curse of the Alpha Stone is a movie where a mystical stone turns people into relentless fuck machines, but it doesn’t quite have all the sex-fueled mayhem you want or deserve. There are no flashes of peen in this movie or sweet honies in trashy lingerie, nor are there twists that involve incest or lady-on-lady action. So compared to other 70s exploitation films, this movie is quite mellow. This is like the mild green salsa of exploitation filmmaking — it’s tasty in its own right, but if you want something really spicy, then you should order Italian. This is not to say that Curse of the Alpha Stone is boring. It’s far from it. It’s a solid piece of exploitation with plenty of inappropriate touching, gratuitous nudity, maniacal laughter, and other elements we know and love. It’s fun and confusing, and at times it’s deliciously deranged. And while the pacing is laid back, it never gets stagnant. There’s always something that hooks you in and keeps you there. There’s a scene where a maid gets turned on by a vacuum cleaner and another where a dead rape victim sort of gets stuffed in a washing machine. It also stars a fat man in a bedazzled tie-dyed shirt. Also seventies bush. Plus, Sandy Carey (Drive-In Massacre, Flesh Gordon, among others) plays a sexually unsatisfied ice queen who finally gets some vitamin D–the D stands for “dick.”
But if there’s one reason to watch Curse of the Alpha Stone, it is this: a man gets to third base with a mannequin.
