Confessions from the David Galaxy Affair

1979

Comedy

0
IMDb Rating 2.8 10 119

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Synopsis


Uploaded By: FREEMAN
June 30, 2020 at 04:19 PM

Director

Cast

Diana Dors as Jenny Stride
720p.BLU
886.95 MB
1204*720
English 2.0
NR
24 fps
1 hr 36 min
P/S counting...

Movie Reviews

Reviewed by tigon 4 / 10

The dullest confession you'll ever hear!

Husband and wife acting team Alan Lake and Diana Dors sink to the lowest point of their respective careers in this tedious British sex comedy. The long, drawn-out plot fails to hold the attention and Lake's performance, as sex-obsessed astrologer David Galaxy, is annoying and virtually unwatchable, (why any woman would fall for his hackneyed chat-up lines is anyone's guess). Despite a fairly interesting role as a wealthy businesswoman, Dors doesn't fair much better either. The movie's one saving grace is a brief turn fom 70's sex bomb Mary Millington, playing one of Galaxy's numerous sexual 'conquests'. Mary's performance is funny and mesmerizing but even she fails to save a pitiful film.

Reviewed by ShadeGrenade 2 / 10

"Even galaxies must fall!"

Astrology has never been a favourite subject of mine. The titular hero of this lame British sex comedy is an astrologer, and a darned good one judging from the way he lives. Plush apartment, fast car, trendy clothes. The late Alan Lake is 'David Galaxy' whose interest in heavenly bodies does not only extend to those to be found in the sky. Women cannot keep their knickers on in the presence of this after shave reeking, curly-haired, medallion man. While he tramps around late '70's London in search of a good time, two policemen ( Glynn Edwards and John Moulder-Brown ) have him under surveillance, believing him to been involved in a Securicor van robbery five years previously in which the driver died. 'Galaxy' is one of the most irritating characters ever to appear on the big screen. As played by Lake, you find yourself wishing he would jump in one. He calls his penis "Fido", pinches other people's jokes, and has a habit of doing rubbish impressions of the likes of John Wayne, Mohammed Ali, Larry Grayson and Basil Rathbone. It is hard to believe any self-respecting woman would give him the time of day. She would be more likely to laugh at him. In possibly the nadir of '70's British cinema, Galaxy is making out with lovely Amanda ( Sally Faulkener ) when he farts loudly. She complains - rightly so - but he sneers: "Everyone farts! All except one - YOU!".

There is a subplot in which 70's sex-pot Mary Millington plays 'Millicent Cumming' ( ho ho ho ), a poor little rich girl who's never had an orgasm in her life despite having slept with thousands of men. Galaxy does the trick, unaware that his best mate Steve ( Anthony Booth ) and bartender Joe ( Kenny Lynch ) have bugged the room and are listening to every puff and pant.

As someone who enjoyed the 'Confessions' movies with Robin Askwith ( and, to a lesser extent, the 'Adventures' series ), I found this a real chore to sit through. The script gives no-one anything amusing to do or say and wastes everyone, including Ballard Berkeley of 'Fawlty Towers'. Even the sex is not at that exciting. Lake's wife Diana Dors appears as the owner of the apartment block where he lives, and Bernie Winters ( minus Schnorbitz ) is 'Mr.Pringle'. Mary took her own life only a few months after this went on release. Both Dors and Lake passed on five years later. As well as Millington, we have the equally lovely Rosemary England as 'Sandra'.

The clock was ticking for this kind of movie in 1979. It flopped and was swiftly retitled 'Star Sex' ( sounds like the name of a Channel Four game-show ). A curio then. Don't expect much and you just might...get even less! Incidentally, if Galaxy is such a good astrologer how come he failed to predict his own incarceration in jail at the movie's end?

Reviewed by jaibo 1 / 10

God, rid the galaxy of this David

David Galaxy is a selfish, narcissistic, sexist, racist and homophobic little astrologer who gets women for to have sex with him using the most hackneyed of chat-up lines and litters his conversation with p**s-poor attempts at humour. Quite why the filmmakers of this incompetent mess expect the audience to follow this fellow around for an hour and a half of nothing very much happening is the question. The only element of plot is that a couple of coppers are set on fitting him up for a 5 year old armed robbery - when they succeed in sending him down, one doesn't deplore police corruption as much as applaud them for ridding the streets and our screen of this odious personage.

Most of the script is a random collection of softcore sexual encounters (repulsive to the eye as they feature Galaxy) and petty contretemps - sometimes these two elements collide, as when Galaxy farts whilst screwing a psychologist girlfriend (you have to feel sorry for the splendid Sally Faulkner playing this part) which causes a bitter ruckus. There's a supremely distasteful leering sub-plot involving a society heiress who has had sex with thousands of men but has never had an orgasm (a role absurdly played by the common-as-muck former porn star Mary Millington); quite what the other men who schtupped her must have been like is unimaginable, because the disgusting Galaxy succeeds in getting her off - perhaps she has a kink for sleazeballs, but the script doesn't go in for that level of psychological nuance. Did I say script? That supremely flatters a screenplay chock-full of unbelievable incidents, poorly thought-out police procedural and dialogue which would shame a remedial school drama class improvisation.

As for the acting, nearly everyone isn't bothering. Alan Lake's turn as Galaxy is the epitome of charmless incompetent self-indulgence. And what a shame it is to see John Moulder-Brown, so good in Deep End and who worked with Visconti, reduced to appearing in the thankless role of a clichéd plod in this reeking pile of dirt.

Some of the British sexploitation films of the 70s manage to give us a peak into what Britain was like at the time; this film simply manages to show us what went on in the fetid imaginations of a bunch of talentless, middle-aged men.

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