In his second film, cult-crap director Ted V. Mikels (The Corpse Grinders) directs Dr. Sex, a nudie-cutie comedy that dares to combine exhibitionism with psychiatry. At last!

In preparation for a textbook project on which they’re about to embark, three shrinks — Dr. Sex, Dr. Schmutz and Dr. Lovejoy — swap tales of their oversexed, horndog patients. And speaking of dog, one is actually a poodle that gets its doggy kicks by watching its female owner undress and soap up in the tub. To each his own.

Another patient is a quite type who believes the mannequins he dresses for work are real, and thus, serves them coffee. The funniest patient — comparatively speaking, of course, as Dr. Sex is funny to no one, save perhaps your grandfather who jacked off to it in its day — is the fat guy who has naked ghosts cleaning his home, prompting some priceless facial expressions from the poor slob.

At the end, the docs throw one wild shindig — so wild that Schmutz turns into a poodle! Wait, huh? Exactly. Dr. Sex is impossible not to fast-forward through. The most interesting thing about it is that it’s co-written by Wayne Rogers of TV’s M*A*S*H, making him the Roger Ebert to Mikels’ Russ Meyer. —Rod Lott